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Archive for December, 2009

Excuse to blog!

If you have a blog, not only do you get to supplement your failing long-term memory by recording the happy and sad and funny and weird things that happen to you and your family, but also you just might meet some like-minded blogger out there in Internet Land who might just become a Real World true and for keepsies friend who isn’t afraid to show up on your doorstep when you’re lost and all alone in East Texas with no one to talk to. I’m just sayin’. It could happen.

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Just Wondering. . .

Seriously, is it not rude to stare in East Texas? Because people are seriously staring. And I don’t think I’m imagining it. I wish they’d say something at least, so I could know what’s so weird about us. The kids? The clothes? The accent? All of the above? Just comment, already! Ask a question! At this point I’m alternating between smiling back and ignoring, but if this keeps up I might have to start making t-shirts. “No, we’re not Mormons.” Or, “I left ten more on the bus.”

In any case, it makes me glad of a God who takes my attention off of other people and what they might think, and reminds me instead of who He is. No matter where I am, that’s home.

Jason is driving back to Austin. It was a sad evening, knowing he had to leave. I’ve never missed him so much. I think that’s evidence of how greatly God blessed our marriage over the last four years in the mountains. We’re only beginning to see what He did there.

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This is Overthinking it.

This is the business of reentry. Of listening to a teenager order sandwiches at Chick-fil-A. Of noting her sirs and ma’ams.

This is missteps. And awkward moments, and embarrassment.

This is feeling utterly wrong.

This is a valiant attempt at camouflage, smearing on and washing off a few years’ deep Southern upbringing.

This is five extra minutes with the mirror, to blow a little more effort into hair, to look like I try, but not too hard.

This is sticking out like a sore thumb. Shushing my children. Matching their socks.

This is the schizophrenia of letting go and putting on and retrenching. The knock-kneed joy of the new.

This is grief that doesn’t belong.

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Anna + Christmas

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The Moving Album

It’s not much, because I was too distracted by all the moving to take many pictures, but here are a few anyway.

Palm Springs, CA. I have so many childhood memories of these windmills!

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Storm Warning

Me: Hey, there’s supposed to be a big thunderstorm tomorrow.

Sarah: A THUNDERSTORM?!

Jonah: With LIGHTNING?!

Anna: And THUNDER?!

Me: And big winds. It might even hail.

Sarah and Anna: HAIL???!!

Anna: I know what the lightning will look like! Just like in the movies!

Sarah: Will the electricity go out?! Oh, I’m sooooo excited!

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We’re Here!

Somewhere in East Texas. I am told this is nothing like Austin, which is good, because here people seem to frown a lot and make comments under their breath in the store. It kind of depresses me. A lot. So we’re mostly keeping quiet in the house, which is lovely and comfy and once belonged to Jason’s grandmother. Jason’s stepmom ValliAnn lives here when she’s not working in Houston. We’ve been making big family meals together and visiting with friends for Shabbat.

The kids learned all about Channukah, and now that it’s finished we’re getting ready for Christmas. Today we’re going to paint the salt dough ornaments, and maybe make a popcorn chain or two. This is my favorite time of year, but it’s hard to fully enjoy it without Jason. He’s going to drive over here for Christmas Eve, and I’ll be really glad when he walks through the door.

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