A Photo Essay: Quiet for the Weekend - August 31-September 2, 2012

It's been a strange sort of week.

'Found time,' here at home,

time we thought we'd be traveling -

but we're not.

So we got to extend our days with our

youngest granddaughter by a couple of weeks,

and that was sweet.

Next Wednesday, she begins pre-school.

We took time to plan vacations for next year,

always a fun thing to do.

But communication with the agent got a little dicey 

and we weren't sure why.

Everything worked out in the end;

it generally does. 

Yesterday, we went to see "The Odd Life of Timothy Green,"

and found it quirky and sweet.

And then the projector blew up about 2/3 of the way through.

Say what?

We got a couple of free theater tickets out of it,

but still . . .

So we had an early dinner at a nearby

cheap-o place that turned out to be pretty good,

and we shopped at Costco, to prepare

for the thundering herd (in the nicest possible way!)

that will descend on us for the holiday weekend. 

It was 7:00 p.m. and the sky was unusually pretty,

so I turned the car right instead of left as we drove out of the parking lot, and headed to Isla Vista - the crazy college community that isn't quite crazy yet,

 as UCSB hasn't begun their fall semester. 

There was a good place to park, so I grabbed it,

reached in the back seat for my camera bag,

and headed out onto the bluffs,

just as the sun was beginning its last 

sinking, saturating radiance,

and the blue moon was starting its ascendency.

And I walked.

And I looked.

And I breathed.

Every once in a while,

I stopped to take a picture

to exclaim over the beauty all around,

and to say, 'Thank you' to the One who made it all. 

Come along with me, won't you?

(By the way, I have no idea what all those multi-colored small flags mean,

but they were pretty and whimsical in their own right, so I took their picture.

And I have to say that just scrolling through these pictures makes me say 'Thank You' over and over again. I cannot begin to put into words how grateful I am to live where I do.) 

And these words from scripture jumped out at

me as I reflected on this experience today, 

the day after all that confusion - and all that beauty.

Because someday, all that we see now as 

spectacular,

glorious,

breath-taking,

and life-giving

will pale in comparison to the LIGHT

that will overwhelm and bedazzle us on the Day of the LORD.

"No longer will violence be heard in your land,

nor ruin or destruction within your borders,

but you will call your walls Salvation

and your gates Praise.

The sun will no more be your light by day,

nor will the brightness of the moon shine on you,

for the LORD will be your everlasting light,

and your God will be your glory.

Your sun will never set again,

and your moon will wane no more;

the LORD will be your everlasting light,

and your days of sorrow will end."

Isaiah 60:18-20

Joining Michelle DeRusha's invitation to Summer, for the last time this year,

and with Sandy and Deidra for their ongoing weekend invitation to quietness and reflection.

Things Change. . . A Mixed Media Post

Life has gotten interesting of late. And I haven't had as much opportunity to join with Lisa-Jo as I'd like. But when I saw this week's prompt, I went to my draft pile and pulled this one up. I started to write it a week ago, to note what feels like a great, big, massive change in our lives - our youngest grandchild will no longer require our weekly care.

Gasp. She begins pre-school next week. How can this be??

So, you'll see where I began the timed part of this post - and I surprised myself with where I went from there. Isn't that always the way with 5 Minute Friday?? 

(Pictures added both before and after the 5 minutes!)

Lilly - one-hour old

About 10 months old.

Feeding the bluejays with Poppy.

Tough girl pose - 15 months.

Playing doctor, 18 months.

Sweetness at 22 months.

Just a little uncertainty, also 22 months.

A series of wild-hair shots. Oh, my - yes. About 2 years old.

At her 2nd birthday party.

Under some semblance of control with Aunt Lisa, just past her 2nd birthday.

Lilly at 2 years, 6 months - how can it be?

A little dress-up play, three weeks ago.

Perhaps a cell phone would have been simpler for this little jaunt??

Every Wednesday since June of 2010,

she has come to our house to play.

And eat.

And sleep.

She was four months old when we began,

and I was just weeks out of the hospital,

and more tired than I knew.

So when nap time came,

I would put her down on the bed next to me.

I'd run the TV softly to create a little white noise,

 and sit next to her while she slept,

my computer on my lap.

During those first months,

I would do email,

research for teaching or preaching,

and wonder what the looming world

of retirement would be like.

Since the end of that year,

I've used Lilly's nap time to

read blogs,

check Facebook,

think about posts,

write posts,
and watch her while she sleeps.

START:
Two days ago marked the end of an era for us,
an end to babies.
First there were our own three,
each of them remarkable,
unique,
full of fun and curiosity and determination.
Then those three grew up,
met some pretty amazing partners,
and started having babies of their own.
Three boys from daughter number one -
one, two, three.
Three boys from daughter number two - 
one, two, three.
Loud, rough-and tumble,
some more than others -
wonderful promise of sturdy men to come.
Then, just one month after that last boy,
our boy and his wife had a GIRL.
Glory be.
And nearly four years and one miscarriage later,
another girl.
And now, they tell me, they are done.
Their family is complete.
So.
Will I live to see great-grandbabies?
It's within the realm of possibility -
our eldest is 21.
But I'm not sure it's within the realm
of probability.

Everyone waits theses days.
We married young,
had kids while we were kids.
Not so much anymore.
There is education to be gotten,
jobs to be found,
houses to be bought,
lives to be lived.
And that's all wonderful. . .
but . . .
I wouldn't change a thing about our journey.
I loved growing up TOGETHER,
hanging on by a shoestring,
having babies before we had the money for them,
and loving every (well, almost every!) minute of it.
So,
change comes.
And we?
We roll with it,
or
it rolls right over us.

STOP.

Maybe I won't miss this mess every week  . . .

. . . and maybe I won't miss this weekly menagerie as I tried to get a very sleep-resistant girl to acquiesce . . .

But this?

(at 15 months old)

And this? (last week)

And yes, THIS (two days ago) I will most definitely miss.
She now covers almost the entire bed . . .

. . . and sometimes adjusts herself to make contact, her head on my leg as I type.
Sigh.