Just a quick pick of the boys. Hanging out in the living room. Amazed Laura is letting him walk on this carpet. She barely lets ME walk on this carpet!
Brooks' first night at our house. Here's praying for lots more! COME ON ST FRANCIS OF ASSISSI!
Sola Journal. Half the story.
Many ask why the Catholic faith is not based on sola scriptura - that is, the Bible alone. For Catholics, there is more to it than that. When we consider the Bible alone, it's a wonderful place to start...Here's a great source to understand a little more.
My Great-Grandma Maggie kept journals during her married life. They're a wonderful look into the history of our family. They were a struggling family living in the hills of Southern California, where my Grandpa Weaver was a parole officer and my Grandma Maggie was a homemaker. They had four kids and a house. The journals document much of their daily life, and a little bit of the tragedy and joy they experienced as a family. But as informative as those journals may be, they don't give us much of a glimpse at the author at all.
Grandma Maggie was this loud, boisterous, silly, fun, kind, opinionated, loving, cuddly, apron-wearing, smart-as-a-whip, witty gal who lived a big life. She was uncontainable. Grandpa Weaver spent most of his life watching her live. He thought she was the most enchanting and amusing person in the world, and she probably was.
But you'd never know it from the journals. The journals tell a story of a family who worked their hands to the bone, who tried to make ends meet, who sacrificed for each other, who prayed to make it through the tough times. Depressing, right? The journals speak of small birthdays, small rooms, broken appliances and deaths and illnesses of friends and family. They help us to place the times and events of the things that made us who we are.
And yet, our family doesn't remember much of that. We have MORE than the journals. We have boxes of letters, pictures, menus, itineraries, receipts, Christmas cards and heirlooms. We've added to our rich history as we've gone along, and are the better for it. We have the things Grandma Maggie touched and wore (relics, anyone?), the things she used in her own home, the traditions that glued her own family together as they grew. We remember the noise and laughter of family reunions, the stories passed down from past generations, the love of a family at Christmas, the richness of the success Grandma and Grandpa shared at the end of their lives, the legacy their children and grandchildren live today.
There is so much more to the story than what's written, and there is so much more to the code of living than just working hard and making it through. Without the tradition of our own family, we'd have so much less with which to tell our story.
The Bible is the place we start and SHOULD be the standard we hold ourselves to. But as the family of the Body of Christ, we rely on so much more to add to the richness of our faith. The examples of the men and women who've gone before us, the writings of Popes, saints and holy people, the relics of the people we believe to be with the Lord now, these are the things that make us richer and wiser.
My Great-Grandma Maggie kept journals during her married life. They're a wonderful look into the history of our family. They were a struggling family living in the hills of Southern California, where my Grandpa Weaver was a parole officer and my Grandma Maggie was a homemaker. They had four kids and a house. The journals document much of their daily life, and a little bit of the tragedy and joy they experienced as a family. But as informative as those journals may be, they don't give us much of a glimpse at the author at all.
Grandma Maggie was this loud, boisterous, silly, fun, kind, opinionated, loving, cuddly, apron-wearing, smart-as-a-whip, witty gal who lived a big life. She was uncontainable. Grandpa Weaver spent most of his life watching her live. He thought she was the most enchanting and amusing person in the world, and she probably was.
But you'd never know it from the journals. The journals tell a story of a family who worked their hands to the bone, who tried to make ends meet, who sacrificed for each other, who prayed to make it through the tough times. Depressing, right? The journals speak of small birthdays, small rooms, broken appliances and deaths and illnesses of friends and family. They help us to place the times and events of the things that made us who we are.
And yet, our family doesn't remember much of that. We have MORE than the journals. We have boxes of letters, pictures, menus, itineraries, receipts, Christmas cards and heirlooms. We've added to our rich history as we've gone along, and are the better for it. We have the things Grandma Maggie touched and wore (relics, anyone?), the things she used in her own home, the traditions that glued her own family together as they grew. We remember the noise and laughter of family reunions, the stories passed down from past generations, the love of a family at Christmas, the richness of the success Grandma and Grandpa shared at the end of their lives, the legacy their children and grandchildren live today.
There is so much more to the story than what's written, and there is so much more to the code of living than just working hard and making it through. Without the tradition of our own family, we'd have so much less with which to tell our story.
The Bible is the place we start and SHOULD be the standard we hold ourselves to. But as the family of the Body of Christ, we rely on so much more to add to the richness of our faith. The examples of the men and women who've gone before us, the writings of Popes, saints and holy people, the relics of the people we believe to be with the Lord now, these are the things that make us richer and wiser.
The Very Paltry Pantry.
So here's something incredibly personal that I'd like to share with you. While I was Molly-proofing (kind of like baby chimp-proofing) a few weeks ago, I took a picture of our "new" pantry. The old one (see below) was nothing to write home about, as it is incredibly deep and just plain stupid. It's also Molly-height, while means she shops there regularly. And if there are snacks, Molly will bust through any door, lock or other various barrier to get what she's looking for.
Here is the "new" pantry. It's up high, and really doesn't hold a whole lot. Somehow it feels like a lot of food, so I guess that's a good thing. See that box of Hamburger Helper in the bottom right? It moved with us from Maryland. No joke. And still it waits, probably expired, definitely ignored and unwanted. If anyone would like a box of lasagna Hamburger Helper, do let me know. See up there in the top right? 1000 Popsicle sticks. Very important to keep anything that numbers 50 or greater up high where Molly can't reach them. If you know Molly, that would be a no-brainer. We also keep the writing implements up high, but they're in a cabinet that doesn't have counters under it.
You'll also notice that we have a lot of elbow macaroni. I hate pasta. I buy it with the best intentions and then it sits in my pantry. I love lasagna, but I'm pretty sure that the copious amounts of cheese and sauce negate the pasta content.
We also have a lot of soup. Andrew is one of those guys who will scrape off everyone's plates after dinner and put it in a container and take it for lunch the next day. He's incredibly not-very-concerned with what he eats. If there are no plates to scrape or leftovers to take, he just grabs a can of soup. I really feel that if I were the one out there earning the cash, I'd be like, "Hey you! Fix me a decent lunch!" but he'd never say such a thing when we're really almost not keeping our heads above water with the chaos. I used to pack the most beautiful lunches in brown paper sacks with a love note and chips and a cookie. Now he gets Campbell's Chunky. (To my credit, I saw Tomato with Pasta today and thought, "Ooh, Andrew will love that." Thoughtful, eh??) I think that maybe admitting my craptastic lunch-fixing to the entire world might have inspired me to make him a lovely lunch on Friday. ( "Friday?!" Sheesh, people! The shopping's done for the week and the soup's in the cupboard!)
And here you can see what's been done with the "old" pantry. There are still Goldfish in there, because that carton is enormous, and a huge bag of sugar. I'm sure that's the best place for a huge bag of sugar with Molly running wild in the house. There are also two packages of "who nu" cookies in there. The girls are totally fooled. I give them these perfectly nutritious and less than delicious cookies and they have no idea that the good stuff is hidden wayyyyy in the back of the "why on earth do they make cabinets this deep?" cabinet.
I also have a giant gallon of white vinegar. I can't figure out why my garbage disposal backs up into my dishwasher. I did a test and it does, officially. I don't use my dishwasher, so I left it completely clean and empty for a week, and when I opened it, there was water in the bottom. So I put vinegar in it and ran it and the water was gone and the washer smelled fine. I don't have any idea what's up with THAT, but I'm just running it with vinegar every couple days until I feel motivated to call somebody. I should do that, right?
And that is my pantry. Tomorrow I'm going to do a "day in the life of a chick with three daughters who hides the good cookies from her kids" post. I don't think I've done a day in the life post since I was a mother of two children, so this should be fun. Guess I'd better grab the camera so I can be ready first thing!
This is not a tutorial.
That will come later. But first, let me tell you a couple of things I've learned about Roman Shades. Just a few "dos and don'ts" with some sage wisdom peppered in.
- DO plan on several days of tears.
- DO attempt this yourself. It's not as bad as it looks.
- DO NOT plan on making your living and dining room your first attempt at Roman shades. I suggest the laundry room, garage or attic. Definitely not across from the toilet, the couch, or your usual chair at the dining room table.
- DO plan on saving approximately 90% of your window treatment dollars by doing it yourself. (I estimate we're saving about $1100. Booyah.)
- DO buy several bottles of your favorite libation and a package of Double Stuf Oreos. You're gonna need them.
- DO NOT yell at your machine. Whisper sweet words. Sweet words.
- DO realize that it takes two people to hang these suckers. You might try the libation/Oreo/sweet words trick on your husband for the weeks preceding "The Big Hang."
- DO NOT despair. Someone, somewhere has uglier Roman shades than you. Right???
- DO think often about the energy costs you'll be saving once you get these puppies hung.
- DO save the Hobby Lobby coupon in your phone for your multiple trips to buy everything you forget. Or throw away in your Oreo haze.
- DO NOT expect to get the shades sewn or hung with children in the house.
- DO lock them all on the back deck and scatter some Goldfish about for the baby.
- DO NOT listen to the haters. They're everywhere.
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