Miscellany Monday (on Tuesday)

Miscellany blog post means miscellany photos. 

* All stars! Let's address the subject all rural Albertan's first discuss - weather. Now, I know the Caraganas may be snapping and popping, that fields are being steadily harvested and the dang geese seem to be flying in a southward direction. Folks, this does not mean you need to be spouting off about Fall and things a-freezing at night. I don't wanna' hear it. For moi, I feel as though Summer just began three weeks ago, now all the running to the city for appointments is over.  If you really need to run your dirty mouth about Fall, pre calendar change of season,  feel free to wander out behind the barn. I read this year that summertime in Alberta isn't just a season, but it's an event. Yes! An event! Please keep in mind, this event is still taking place and your bad manners about bringing Fall up are just that, bad manners. So hush. 

* Three. It seems to be a magical number up in this hood. I am loving having three babies. I think there is nothing finer than a little boy to round out the circle of pink in this home. Oh, the gushing that takes place by the big sisters and the frightening moments of, 'Please don't poke baby brother with your hockey stick!' seem to keep us busy. Who knew a three year old could be such a big helper and that a two year old, well, isn't? We are well and floating through summer days on clouds of baby brother joy. 

* It's zucchini season! I love small towns, especially on these sun soaked days when you run into the grocery store and fly back out, worrying you forgot a kid somewhere, and there is often a dirty old zucchini on the seat of your pick up truck. Everyone grows 'em, everyone gives them away, and usually in a haphazard sneaky fashion of dumping them on the neighbors doorstep in the middle of the night or sneaking out of church to get rid of the blasted things in everyone else's vehicle. There has to be some kind of balance here. Truth be told, the only balance I'm looking for is the one that weighs heavily on chocolate zucchini cake ending up in my freezer.

*I am starting to wonder if the reason I seem to pack weight on post-baby might have something to do with the fact I am finding crumbs in Little Man's hair at 3AM? Crumbs from cookies, muffins, and cinnamon rolls that my dear heart neighbor ladies have been dropping off. Do you think it could possibly contribute to my resemblance of the saggy baggy elephant and the fact I wish I had a sports bra for my bottom when I'm running? That lil' ol' issue of happily shoving my face at any given feed in the middle of the night? The way I look at it is - life is short, let's not make waste of Mennonite cooking. Duh.

*My computer has been in a funk. I haven't had one of my very own to yatter on since pre babe. I am constantly searching out ways to get my grubby hands on one to check my mail, whether I pilfer my husband's phone or make the trek to mama's house. Truth be told, it's kind of nice to not feel the pull of always having to respond to e-mails. I knew it was only stirring the pot of my anti social ways when our phone lines were down too and we were told the yahoos weren't able to come fix them for near a month. If you need me, you know where to find me, but there is a good chance I may be in my pajamas at 10 in the ay-em, so please send some sort of smoke signal first. My First Nations ways will hear your calling. 

*My cup runneth over. I have multiple girlfriends that have had babies within weeks of mine, days of mine really, and my sister has a stork due to arrive at her pad any ol' time. It is like one monster baby shower around here.  I'm thankful for my people.

Three Price babies - hooray! Photo courtesy Robino. My Little Man looks somewhat like a homeboy in his Wranglers - brother needs to put on a few pounds. 

Welcoming

My bare feet creak along the old hardwood floor, while I open windows to let an evening breeze blow through this old house. Little girls lie quietly underneath their white sheets, as the lace curtains flap in the warm air. In a hushed awe I sit on my three year old's bed, smoothing the hair out of her eyes. My heart so grateful for the three gifts wrapped up in snuggly, tiny selves our family has been given.

A couple of weeks ago we drove down the old back roads that I drove on as a teenager. We headed towards the city and for the third time in my life, I knew that soon, we would welcome another little life into our home. I wondered if the same curves and juts in the road will be familiar to my children? Would they know the feel of these gravel roads beneath their feet? Would these pastures look the same? Will this country tug at their hearts? In low whispers I offered my thanks. 

Here we are, a family of five, and I think back to the course my life has taken and I'm still boggled by what a miracle it is that we are exactly where we are today. And I'm ever grateful for the small things. For those tiny, long sweet fingers that grasp my one, for the smell of freshly laundered onesies, and grass stains on little blue jeans. I'm heartsick grateful to be here, to be exactly here in this time, to have four hands smaller than my own to help bathe baby brother. I'm grateful for the sound of baby snuffles in the night and for the moon that shines through his window while feeding someone who has hardly known what sunshine is for two weeks. I am overwhelmed with the big girl holding a swaddled up boy, while the middle one snuggles onto my lap and we all cram into one bed to read bedtime stories, our bodies stuck together in the heat. While my sandals pad along the dusty road, beneath the hot August canvas of blue, with a babe nestled close to my body and wild girls ride their bikes each step is filled with gratitude and days pass. 

I realize it is these small things, they are the moments that are making up my life, my story, and they are my heart's song. 

He tends his flock like a shepherd:

He gathers lambs in his arms

and carries them close to his heart;

he gently leads those that have young.