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We woke up to our first hard frost this week. It was Birdie who discovered it, opening the curtains in the still near-dark as she settled in to read a chapter of Rifles for Watie before chore time. We were both dazzled by the beauty, and a bit caught off guard. After all… didn’t autumn just settle upon us? Is it time to start thinking about winter already?
It is. Cold weather has been creeping up on us this week— though I fully look for at least one more week of warmer temperatures before we hit full-time wooly socks and scarves. Our heat has been kicking on at night a bit, though, and my early morning, coffee-in-hand walks with Cassiel have required me to grab a sweater to brace against the chill.
I managed to change out most of the kids’ clothes this past week, though I’m not done with the sorting. It’s a major task every season, and not one I overly enjoy due to the volume and massive chaos it creates in our living space as I work. Plus, am I the only one whose children routinely wear the same two outfits in rotation no matter how many things are in their drawers? Every year I pare down what I pull from the bins more and more, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Each child settles on favorites, and that’s it. I can bury those shirts or pants under four others and still, that’s what they will dig for. Currently, I’ve put five shirts in each son’s drawer and have seen them in… two. The same two. The streak is intact.
With colder weather comes more hearty breakfasts. Our rhythm is a light morning snack (usually yogurt for kids, coffee for adults), then chores. The people whose work takes them outside especially appreciate things like baked oatmeal with lots of dried fruit and nuts added, or egg and sausage casseroles and scrambles. I might have a habit of heating some of the cream off the thick raw milk we get each week and making cups of cocoa on especially bitter days as an extra means of warming chilled fingers after carrying frozen watering buckets. Maybe.
We resume our weekly meetings with our CC community on Thursday. I’m looking forward to being in fellowship with our friends again, even though this particular series of weeks focuses on my least favorite aspect of American history: the Civil War. I respect the voices pointing out the value of state’s rights, but for me, it’s always, always been about the inherent wrong in owning human beings. No matter how right your primary cause may be to my ears, if you hitch it to a pony of such grievous injustice, you’ve lost me. Studying such a sad season of our nation’s background while others walk alongside is an encouragement to me to look for God’s hand and the good He accomplished during that time, so I’m grateful we are not solo right now.
And finally, I’m happy to report that we’ve entered that sweet, sweet time when baby Decimus is wiggling and kicking and generally a constant presence rather than an abstract notion. I am twenty-two weeks into this most surprising and delightful pregnancy, and appreciating this “bonus round” of baby movement and all the happiness and delight of waiting to meet a new little person. Christopher and I are enjoying narrowing down name options (no, we’re not telling; don’t even ask!) and praying over who, exactly, this soul was created to be. While I love looking ahead to holding this someone soon, I am awed even more so at the prospect that while we were content in our lives going forward as a family of eleven, the Lord was smiling all the time, waiting to reveal that there was another place needing to be set at the table.
Before this cold weather leaves us, we will have a new baby. How absolutely, unexpectedly amazing.