I’ve noticed that mothers like photos of their children that others may not understand. I am no exception. There are other shots in this series that are easier to like, but I absolutely love this one. Livia has an air about her, a tousled-hair-tired-kid expression that makes me look at her in a new way. I snapped this shot 18 months ago on Father’s Day (note the tattoos) when Livia was, apparently, all tuckered out.
A quick run around the blogosphere this morning reveals lots of plans to vote, a small amount of fear regarding America’s future, and a whole lot of campaign exhaustion.
I’m not exhausted by the campaigns of 2008. Why? We’ve had no access to any television channels… until last night. I picked up a $9.99 antenna from Target and, yippee!, now I can watch the election returns from my own living room. While I’m thrilled to access the world of Oprah, Good Morning America and Jeopardy without paying cable fees, I also realize what a blessing it’s been to have avoided all the paid campaign commercials over the past year. CNN Online and conservative talk radio have made me groan enough—CNN hearts Obama, clearly conservative talk radio hearts McCain, blah blah blah. I can’t imagine how worn out I’d feel after all the negative ads on tv.
After googling “candidates on the issues,” I feel comfortable casting my vote for John McCain.
And you know what I’ll feel comfortable doing after that? Drinking a free Starbucks in the coziness of my own living room. Thank you, cheap antenna.
Good Monday morning! I present to you, for your bloggy viewing pleasure, some of the last non-purple photos from my Canon Powershot. I now have within my possession two more cameras, loaned with generosity from my mom and the Moreheads, but I still feel like I’ve lost a body part with the death of my camera. I’m slow to make decisions that require spending a large chunk of money and yet I really need to make up my mind soon. Ack! Moving on…
World, meet Winnie, my parents’ 3-4lb half Bichon Frise/half West Highland Terrier/full canine cutie. She’s crazy about the outdoors, nibbling on Livia’s pigtails and cuddling with on anything connected to her Mama Claudia.
Livia sees Winnie cuddling and figures she needs a bit of lovin’ too. In the shot below, notice that Liv is telling a story. Her pointer finger is out and Nana is wearing her I’m-listening-to-your-very-serious-story face.
The following photo is the last one from my camera. It is blurry and not so great, but still, I love the delighted look on Livia’s face. She placed little Winnie in a little basket and was quite pleased with herself.
Liv keeps talking about how we’re going to “SLICE THEM UP.”
And then I have to remind myself about the Pumpkin Carving we’re hosting tonight.
Slice ’em, dice ’em, cut ’em up. Let’s do it.
This is what death looks like.
My sweet little Canon Powershot S1 IS saw no tunnel, no white lights. Rather it saw a dark screen with horizontal purple lines.
RIP, my small, silver friend.
(Let’s hope the blog doesn’t die as well.)
I spent a little time last week photographing aspects of our garden, all the while aware that the colors would soon be fading under the cool Nebraska nights. It’s been a really mild autumn so far and I can’t remember the last year our garden and lawn looked so vibrant for so long. As a final farewell to warm temps (it’s high time, the water in the birdbath was frozen solid this morning), I present a few pics from Prairie Box Gardens 2008.
Last up, a few shots of butterflies. Livia has retained a “pet” butterfly, grasshopper or caterpillar for most of the warm months. She doesn’t catch her prey, er pets, though; that’s a job for mom, dad or grandma. So if you drive by and see one of us looking like a total goofball, running around the yard, arms furiously swiping an empty butterfly net in the air, just know that we love this four year old very much. There is some strategy involved in netting a butterfly. I hope I remember how to do it right next year.
These aren’t the best butterfly shots I took, but I think they’re the most interesting. The head-on angle is my favorite—look at the insect’s pug-nosed appearance. Note the fuzzy back and the fact that we do feed our pets well. I want to always remember Four Year Old Liv as a girl who loved bugs and spending time outdoors, dirty fingernails and all.
The sweetest sound in the world is hearing your child go to the bathroom all by herself. No “Mom, I need to potty!” or anything. Praise Jesus, my child is potty-trained.
I asked Mom where she normally sat during concerts with Nancy. “Oh, somewhere off to the side. In a space reserved for family,” she said. Well, for whatever reason, the first concert I attended with Mom and Nancy had family sitting in the FRONT ROW, smack dab in the middle of the large church worship hall, planted firmly at Charlie Peacock’s feet. Protesting that we weren’t front row kind of people, we ended up there anyway, not wanting to abandon the one family member who was holding seats for the Webb family.
Turns out the Art*Music*Justice event was an amazing evening of music and social awareness. And when I tried to forget that I was sitting front and center, I found myself lost in the most worshipful concert I’ve ever attended. I heard Derek Webb, Nancy’s son, play years ago at Covenant College when he was with Caedmon’s Call. The Caedmon’s album I bought became the soundtrack for many of my travels over the next four years. I had also heard Sandra McCracken play at Covenant Seminary, and more recently I’ve been a frequent listener of this great album, The Builder and the Architect. But Sara Groves, Brandon Heath and Charlie Peacock were fairly new to me and I thoroughly enjoyed their songs and stories that night. If the tour is coming to your area in the next two weeks, you should definitely go. It’s an inspiring evening.
I learned one more thing that night. Tour buses, as cool and glamorous as they are, contain *tight* sleeping quarters. Nancy showed us the teeny bunk where her grandbaby sleeps. Super cute, but again, teeny! It blew my mind to imagine all the folks on the tour sleeping in one bus and I couldn’t help but wonder what happens when Sara Groves’ kids wake up with bad dreams or when the stage crew/merchandise guys snore too loudly. The bus seemed to me to be a traveling commune—everybody together in one space. I bet they all know each other really well when the final concert comes around!
I knew Liv was playing with water this morning, I just didn’t care. That is, I didn’t care until I heard about five water sloshes in a row. Then I turned my attention to my four year old and began walking toward the noise.
Me: What did you do in here, Livia? Spray a hose around the dining room?
Liv: No. [pause] I was feeding and baptizing my babies.
And that, my friends, was the end of water play at the Tredways on a Wednesday morning. Good thing all our baby dolls have now received the sign and seal of the new covenant.
Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad;
let the sea resound and all that is in it;
let the fields be jubilant, and everything in them.
Then all the trees of the forest will sing for joy;
they will sing before the Lord, for he comes,
he comes to judge the earth.
He will judge the world in righteousness
and the peoples in his truth.
– Psalm 96:11-13