The soft voice whispers

As the events of the "Boston Massacre", as my teenage son calls it, unfolded over yesterday and today, I have by turns been overwhelmed by disbelief, concern, horror, anger, fury, pain, sadness, and grief.  As each story comes to light it breaks my heart anew, and I cry and sob. 

Today, my eight year old son and I ran in honour of those who are affected by the Boston Massacre.  I was deeply affected by the poignancy of the fact that I was running with my healthy eight year old son.  He was alive.  He went out too fast.  He stopped.  He had to take a few breaks to "tie his shoes". He chattered happily even after agreeing that we would run quietly in memory of Boston.  He was a quintessential eight year old, and I am so so thankful, and my heart breaks for the family who lost their happy, vibrant son.

After running together I took Andrew to his lego class at the gym and hopped on the treadmill while he engineered a cool design.  The tv stations were a mixture of soap operas, game shows, and news.  The juxtaposition between the programmes was painful.  I sobbed as the news programmes spent several minutes talking about Martin Richard.  No-one else in the gym seemed to mind.  Or maybe they didn't notice.

As I pondered on the obvious fact that someone or someones planned this attack to cause the maximum amount of pain, grief, and heartache, I thought "There is a special place in hell for people who do things like this."

And then came a soft voice; a sweet whisper, "This, even this, can be forgiven."

Forgiveness is a loving gift you give yourself.  If the person you are forgiving repents, it can also be a gift for them, which is a bonus; the cherry on the cake.

We have all made mistakes.  We have all done things to hurt other people.  I would imagine that for the couple of people who read this blog, those things are limited to "I really wish I hadn't shouted at my kids and made them cry" or suchlike stuff, rather than the horrific act of intentionally seeking to kill, maim, terrorize, and emotionally damage.  And even if the stuff we have done is appalling...it can be forgiven. 

This, even this, can be forgiven.  It may take time.  It make take a very very long time, but at some point in the future...maybe not even on this earth...all will be made right.

In the mean time, we grieve.

Nana, Fish fingers and custard, Anton Krupicka

Nana
My Nana died last week.  Is it weird to say how happy I am for her?  She was suffering in terrible pain and was so unhappy and ready to go.  I'm so glad she's home again and out of pain.  I hurt for my Mum and her sisters though.  My Nana was a lady of incredible strength and endurance.  She had a difficult life and lived it as best she knew how with great courage.  I love her very much and am proud to be her granddaughter.

Doctor Who
We have become quite obsessed with Doctor Who in this household, and while our favourite is either nine or ten, we agree that number eleven is okay.  And thus, for dinner we had fish fingers and custard.

I thought they were pretty good, actually.  Andrew gagged.  Hahaha. =D

Anton Krupicka

He was coming to the local Fleet Feet and I forgot.  I know, crazy.  I promised Andrew that we could go swimming...and then my phone beeped and reminded me of the Krupicka meeting.  I didn't think we could fit in both, so I did what every self-respecting mother would do.  We went swimming.

And my sacrifice was not unrewarded for when we got there the pool was full of classes and we were unable to swim.  Outwardly sympathetic, inwardly I was all "MUHAHAHAHAAAA!" =D

So off to Fleet Feet we went.

And he. Was. AWESOME!  

Before I was all "Ok, ultrarunner.  Cool."  After meeting him I'm a bit starry-eyed. =P  Also, he's INSANE!!  My gosh, the amazing things he does on mountains. Astonishing.  

But more amazing things were to come when I chatted with him one on one.  He is the sweetest, nicest guy.  The kind of chap it would be an absolute pleasure to just sit and chat with.  We had a lovely conversation about injuries (he sympathized greatly about mine.  I sympathized greatly about his).  I thought he was interesting before I talked to him.  I thought he was *fabulous* after I talked to him.  What a lovely, lovely man.

He was very sweet with Andrew.  

Andrew took a picture of Anton and I.  

(Ugh. I don't like this picture of me. I wish I hadn't stood on tippy-toes.)  

Anton squatted a little, and I stood on my tippy toes, and we were giggling as Andrew took our picture.  

And then I trod on his toe when we hugged goodbye.  I apologised and he said it didn't matter cos worse had happened to them and I looked down and...yes, it appears worse has happened to them. Haha. =D  I wanted to get a picture but was too shy to ask.  Pity.

Andrew wanted his poster on the wall as soon as we got home.  I know how he feels.  I need to put mine up on a sort-of-hidden section of wall though, so Bert doesn't get jealous.  Ha! =D

Funny, Homeschool, Halloween, Hike for the Homeless.

I meant to write a post at least every week.  Haha.  =P  Every time I think "Oh, I should put that in my blog" it's followed by a "Meh, I can't be bothered."  A few times I have thought of things to write that would be mildly entertaining - but I've forgotten what they are now so never mind.

I left Facebook.  Have I mentioned that before?  =)  I haven't missed it at all really.  A couple of times Andrew has said something funny that in the past I would have put on there...that's the only time I've missed it really.  So clearly I was using it to show off my brilliant children.  Here, then, are a couple of things Andrew said that had me giggling:

On Thursday, Andrew looked at me all fuzzy-eyed and said, in a super sweet little voice, "Oh I just love homeschooling!  It's like a happy fairyland!"
And as I'm hugging him and kissing him I'm thinking, "Ok.  What was that all about?  And what does he want?"
And then he whispers, "Actually, it's like a jail.  Cos I can't watch TV all day."

Hahahaha!  =D

I've forgotten the other two things he said that had Bert and I giggling. Darn.  But he's lost three teeth recently and is all lispy.

Also, Apparently:

So there you go.  =)

We finally had enough money to purchase the Sonlight books we needed for this year.  I was SO excited to order them, and waited excitedly for them to turn up.  Box day was like Christmas.  Wheeeeee!!!!  So much fun. =)  

We've been doing Core C now for...two weeks?  Three weeks?  I don't know.  In any case, it's been soooo much fun.  Hooray!  *Happy Dance*  

I've noticed that the R&S English is really overwhelming and lots of tears are shed over it.  Thus I'm experimenting by reducing the amount.  Instead of doing Phonics, Reading workbook, and English every day, we're doing one each day.  Considering we homeschool only four days a week because of tutorial on Mondays, and considering the past couple of weeks we've had field trips on Fridays, it means we're getting through a day of Rod and Staff English each week.  Not exactly ideal, but I'm ok with it.  Rod and Staff is pretty rigorous.  The alternative is to drop the phonics and reading workbooks...but I think what they teach is stuff we need to cover.

We had Halloween.  It was ridiculous fun.  And we have massive amounts of chocolate to apply liberally to our hips.

Ben and his girlfriend, Peyton, came along for the evening and appeared to have fun. =)

Yesterday, Andrew and I went on a Hike for the Homeless.  It was fabulous fun.  Apparently last year it was *freezing*.  This year it started at 41f, and heated up to over 70f I think.  It was a beautiful walk, and Andrew ran for a mile.  There was delicious fabulous lunch (veggie burger!  One of Amy's.  Not sure which one.  Yum though) and music, and Andrew went on the bouncy castle and climbing wall.  

It was a good day. 

Silence

Skimming through previous entries, it seems I used to be quite good at writing blog posts.  I enjoyed reading some of them at least.  It feels to me that I have lost that ability to string words together, though.  The thoughts are stilted.  Halting.  Hesitating.  There is a silence; a dead space, where feelings are muted.  It reminds me of when I read "My Brother Sam is Dead".  (It irks me there are no commas before or after Sam, but that's neither here or there.)

Normally when I read a book that draws me in, I want to discuss it in detail.  I want to talk to someone who has the same opinion, or a different opinion, or has picked something out that I didn't.  However, "My Brother Sam is Dead" is the only book that left me silent.  I didn't want to discuss it.  The pain left me wordless.

And that's what I feel like I am right now.  Wordless.  Yes, yes, I'm meandering on spilling these words out blah blah blah - but they say nothing.  The words that express what's really going on don't exist.

So maybe I won't talk about what's going on in me.  Maybe I'll just talk about what's going on *around* me.

The College Girl appears to be doing well....though she isn't *actually* in college right now.  =P  She has a job and is happy.  This weekend she went to California, spent the day lounging on Newport Beach, then spent the night with her Grandparents.  She's having a fabulous time. =)

The Prickly Teen is still prickly and still a teen.  I imagine we will survive. Somewhat.

The Hammer is enjoying life as only a 7 year old can.  He lost another tooth and is looking distinctly gappy right now.  

The DH still works all hours.

I recently deleted my Facebook account and right now I'm pretty happy about that.  Maybe the lack of FB will help me blog more.  =)

How to make butterbeer

So I'm hanging out on Pinterest - as I often do - and I come across this:

And I'm all "I'M MAKING THIS!!!"

So at lunchtime, before making actual food for Andrew, I gathered the ingredients and began.

1/4 cup butter in a pan.  Started it melting.  So far so good.

Add 1/4 cup sugar.  Yep, it's looking good thus far.

Why won't this picture center?  Oh well anyway, moving on to the next step: Stir together to make caramel.

It's at this point I realize I have no idea what it means to caramelize. How do I know when it's done?

So I just start stirring.....

Is this what it's meant to look like?

Brraaaiinnnzzzzz

Oooh!  It's getting darker.  Is it caramelized now?

It's at this point that Andrew said, "It smells like burned pancakes in here."

I got bored of stirring.  I'd been stirring foorr evverrrrr - at least ten minutes.  So I went on to the next step and added a splash of milk.

ARGH!  The caramel totally balled up into a hardish ball thing.  

After a bunch of stirring I managed to melt the hard ball of caramel.  Took another forever.

Then I added the cinnamon and vanilla.  

At this point the whole concoction, while looking rather blah, smelled like delicious autumn and I started getting excited.

For some reason I decided the best cups to put a delicious autumn drink in were Christmas cups. 

I only had one Christmas cup.  Got it from the Wiehnachtsmarkt in Cologne when we lived there.  I decided a good matching cup would be the other Cologne cup we had.  It has gold accents.  That's kind of Christmassy, right?

Added whipped cream.

Ooooohhhhh baby.  Ohhhh my gosh.  Oh myyyy goodness.  Holy cow.  Mmmmmm.

Andrew took a sip and said, "I don't like it."  Weirdo!!  So I drank his as well.  Yum yum yum.

Verdict:

A lot of work, but totally worth it.  

And by "A lot of work" I mean about 30 minutes.

In other news, I went for a run.

24 miles.  Didn't hurt as much as the 20 on the road.  If I stick with my pace, and don't try to go too fast or hard, I'll be able to finish the 50k as long as my ITB doesn't blow up.  It won't be pretty - it'll be about 9-10 hours, which will probably be the slowest 50k in the history of 50ks EVER.  I'm embarrassed by that time, but will be thrilled if I can just make it to the finish line without my knee locking up.  I'm nervous, but hopeful.

From now on my long runs will be much shorter - nothing over 15 miles.  Does that mean I'm in taper now?  

Sing with me now....

37 late last night on the bike.
15 on my feet early this morning.
80 on the bike planned for tomorrow.

I'm worried I'm doing too much, training for both a 50k trail run and a 100 mile ride.  I'm worried I'm doing too little and will be undertrained for the individual events.  Last night I was worried I was trashing my quads for this morning's run.  Today I'm worried that my run tired my legs out and I'll bonk on the ride tomorrow.  I'm worried about going so slow.  I'm worried that I have to walk often so my ITB doesn't explode.  I'm worried about the niggling pain on the bottom of my foot.  I'm worried I'll do both events but it won't be pretty.  I'm worried about failing.  I have a huge fear of failure.


So, everybody sing with me now...

I can almost seeee it
That dream I'm dreeeaaaming but
there's a voice inside my head saying
"You'll never reach it."
Every step I'm taking
Every move I make feels
lost with no direction.
My faith is shaking.
But Iiiiiiii
I gotta to keep trryyying
Got to keeeep my head held hiiiigh

Because

There's always gonna be another mountain
I'm always going to want to make it moooooove
Always going to be an uphill battle
Sometimes I'm going to have to loooooose
Ain't about how fast I get there
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side
It's the Cllliiiiiimb.

The struggles I'm facing
The chances I'm taking
Sometimes might knick me down but
no, I'm not breaking.
I may not know it
But these are the moments that
I'm going to remember most....
...just got to keep going
And Iiiiiiiii
I got to be strong
Just keep pushing oooooon

There's always gonna be another mountain
I'm always going to want to make it moooooove
Always going to be an uphill battle
Sometimes I'm going to have to loooooose
Ain't about how fast I get there
Ain't about what's waiting on the other siiiiiiide
It's the Cllliiiiiimb.




Don't stop now....go one more....



And in spite of because of everything, I'm grateful...


Rock what ya got! =)

Impossibly Impossible

"It was unbelievable - storks in their laps. Great, strange birds that flew over oceans and seas and continents were lying here in their laps. Pier and Lina looked at each other - an awed, astounded look - then they looked at the storks again, trying to believe it."

.......

  '"You can't believe it," Janus kept whispering. "You can't believe it - storks in Shora." 
"Not since I was a little child," Grandmother Sibble III said softly to herself. 
"Storks in Shora," Lina repeated. "But I can believe it, Janus! It's so impossibly impossible, I can believe it now." 
"Ah, yes, little Lina," the teacher said. "So impossibly impossible that it just had to be. And the long dream - storks on every roof in Shora - is beginning to come true."'

 .......

 Just ten minutes ago Andrew and I finished "The Wheel on the School" by Meindert DeJong, illustrated by Maurice Sendak (who passed away just last week, I believe).

 It's a story of a small village in Holland. A story of Lina, and how she dreams of storks on every roof in Shora. The story takes place over just a few days, but is absolutely jam packed with exciting detail and adventure. The effort to bring storks to Shora unites the whole village and brings them close together. New friends are made and close inter-generational ties are formed.

 A theme that runs through the book is how impossible this task is....but their dream eventually comes true.

 The first quoted paragraph above I nearly didn't get through. I had to swallow hard as I was getting all choked up with the emotion of it. All that effort! Pier nearly died saving the storks! And here they were, in their laps.

 The second quote is the last one in the book, and I nearly didn't get through that one either. I read it, closed the book, and looked at Andrew.

 "What is so impossibly impossible to you?"

 At first he didn't know what I was asking.

 "Lina really really really wanted storks in Shora. It was such a big dream there was no way it could ever happen. It was impossibly impossible that it could happen. But it did.

 For me it's running a hundred miles. I really really really want to run a hundred miles. It's such a big dream I don't know that it can happen. It's impossibly impossible.

 What is impossibly impossible for you?"


 There was a reverent silence as he lay there, his eyes gazing into the distance, biting a little on his finger. Then he turned to me with eyes wide. He knew what the dream was, but it was a little frightening for him to voice it. He quietly said, "Running a marathon with Daddy. He's so fast I don't know that I can ever do it."

 I was quiet for a second as we both breathed in the wonder of voicing our impossibly impossible dreams. Such a reverent, tender, sacred moment. I treasured it.

 What is impossibly impossible for you?