little green room

Goodnight Moon begins by describing the "great green room." Here's our little green room for our little guy, who is due any day, in June.

The corner cubbies are filled with books and treasures, including my stuffed teddy bear, "Bobby," and "Lambie," at top. My grandmother's miniature rocking horse completes the trio. 

The feeding, reading, rocking, and reclining corner. The photographs feature Iowa City and the Iowa countryside -- just one of the artistic contributions from the baby's aunts and uncles. (Others include a whimsical painted owl, an original poem, and a collage with Psalm 139.)

The curtains, crib, and changing table. I had to hunt a bit to find furniture low enough to accommodate my short height! I've gathered items from all different places, like twigs for a nest.

breakdown blues

The delights of gardening have been well-documented here. But any illusions about the bliss of homeownership were soundly crushed this spring as we juggled planned and unplanned home projects. My mental energy was diverted from nursery decor to window replacement, from editing to A/C repair. Planned upgrades included a new cap and crown for the chimney and new windows. Unplanned “upgrades” included a new electric meter box, a new refrigerator, and a new A/C condenser. It seems the closer we get to the baby’s due date (now next week!), the quicker the succession of problems. In early May, as I recounted the fridge debacle to an overnight guest who arrived the day after the appliance’s replacement, I realized that air was blowing through the house but it wasn’t getting cooler. This week, the new condenser was installed and cool comfort restored. Predictably, a thunderstorm knocked out the internet a mere four hours later. (Ironically, as I was writing this post.) The dryer—which is older than I am—has been making funny noises (the HVAC tech volunteered that it’s probably a loose belt) and the neighborhood woodpecker has decided our wood trim is his favorite breakfast treat. So, back to gardening: At least the netting is keeping the birds, bunnies, and squirrels off my produce!

a tender harvest

The arugula and red lettuces have stretched out their delicate leaves as this dry spring makes its way toward summer. It is the time of simple salads—lemony oil or balsamic vinaigrette, creamy avocado, cucumbers. The days are long and I watch the light filter into different rooms at different times. There is much work to be done: there are weeds to pull, mulch to spread, and annuals to purchase and pot. But in a season of busyness my body slows down and requires me to do the same. It grants all its energy to nurturing the little one, its fragile project. With God’s good grace, he will arrive sometime between the peas and the green beans, just in time to welcome summer.

birthday

Today the words of Psalm 65 bless this birthday. The Lord waters the earth, blesses its growth, and crowns the year with bounty. "... those who dwell at the ends of the earth are in awe at your signs." Here is some backyard bounty:

The tulips out front arrived just in time!

The pond and hedge are already lush and filling in for the season.

The chives and mint are begging to be cut. (How can I make a virgin mojito?)

And, finally, the arugula takes the prize for first to sprout outside! (The chives in the middle are returning from last year.) The weather has been so warm, barely three days passed between planting and sprouting. Hopefully it will cool off so the arugula, lettuce, spinach, and peas can develop some good spring flavor.

happy spring

Last year, we weren't here early enough in the spring to welcome the crocuses. Here they are today, basking in the sun, nestled in the juniper and myrtle.

garden dream

This winter has been unusually mild. The Bradford pear is budding, the crocuses and snowdrops have emerged around the neighborhood, and my two stalwart parsley plants never really died. (See picture below.) My subconscious has also been contemplating the aberrant weather; a few nights ago I dreamt I was surveying my vegetable garden. Last year’s plants had re-seeded themselves and emerged into bountiful bushes in the winter sun. There were dozens of ripe tomatoes, three varieties of basil, and rows of lettuces. How odd, I thought … but how delightful! In the morning, I peered out the window and the two little beds were still wearing their oak leaf covering.

the in between times

It’s been a while since my last post (say bloggers the world over), but as my writing lapsed I savored some of life’s precious in between times. After the squirrels devoured the pumpkin, and the robins pecked at all the winterberries, the rhythms of the church calendar ushered our little household into the season of Advent. We celebrated Christ’s incarnation—the fully divine becoming fully human, in humanity’s humblest form. We joyously anticipated the kingdom to come—another lighted city.

The “now and not yet” of Advent took on a rich (very human) meaning as we encountered the many in between moments of expecting our first baby. There was a time of waiting to see if “it” was really there; a time of waiting to share the news; a time of waiting for sickness to subside; a time of waiting to feel the slightest flutter or kick; and, a time of waiting to find out whether the little shadow was a son or a daughter. 

Our son (!) still has a lot of growing to do before we meet him face-to-face in early June. In the coming months, my hope is that this short season will be more than just a time of busyness. Yes, there are windows that need replacing, compost that needs turning, and books piled high next to the television. I just hope I can endeavor to pursue prayer with the same focus as decorating the nursery.