Visitation Rights

It is difficult to be a part of a family, 

when that family hardly ever gets to see each other.

Hence, at some point over the past year, 

I sent out an email that said: 

Everyone, gather, my place.

It took us awhile, and it didn't work for all of us, 

but recently I was indeed visited by those I call 'family', 

in the biological sense of the word. 

First, my parents arrived, 

just in time for the most beautiful summery meal involving cold zucchini soup and caprese salad... 

...on the coldest day of July.

By the next morning,

these two darlings had joined us, 

and we were ready for a day of blissful togetherness.

The weather derailed my 'take them into the wilderness' plan,

 and so we found ourselves at 'Meet Millheim!', a 'remind the world we exist' day at a nearby quaint and special little town.

We toured the shops and did a little shopping,

and a little local cheese tasting.

We worked our way down the street,

and found ourselves inside a local wine shop.

As my uninterested family members stood and waited for me,

I sampled some of what the place had to offer.

I made my purchases and turned to leave,

when what to my wondering eyes should appear?

[Mm-hm...]

We then carried ourselves (and our packages)
further down the street, 

to the local antique shop,

for a bit of a chat,

and time travel.

Eventually we ended up in the cutest little coffee shop, 

in order to get ourselves some coffee treats.

Coffee wasn't the only treat of the hour, however;

unbeknownst to us, 

the local npr anchorwoman was roaming the town as well, 

and felt herself drawn toward Dave's npr shirt.

She engaged us in conversation, and even took our picture.

After exhausting the wide variety of what such a little town had to offer us, we headed out to downtown State College for lunch, but not before stopping at the local Farmer's Market.

Kara helped me decide which flowers to buy (other than the snapdragons, which were a no-brainer),

and I rejoiced in my overall love of all things Farmers Market.

Upon completion of my joy, we climbed into the car, put the men in charge of the flowers, and were on our way.

We explored State College for awhile, drove around campus to see the sights, and returned home for a bit of lounging.  Digby was happy to see us, and helped me as I dug into the birthday treats brought to me with love and generosity. 

Then, it was time for the rounding out of our day!

We headed to Otto's so Dave could sample the beer,

and so we could drown in yummy food.

Then we scuttled over to the other side of town, 

to the local community theater,

in order to see my good friend (and soon to be housemate!) 

work her magic in Steel Magnolias.

We enjoyed the atmosphere,

we enjoyed the show.

We even enjoyed the squeaky bat sitting in our section.

Then, we returned home.

After a long but glorious day, we were looking forward to tucking into our beds, when I suddenly realized:

The keys I'd had in my hand when we left....were not mine.

The ones that could actually open the locked door sat on the table in the hallway.  Looking at us.

So, Dave and Kara whisked out their lock picking tools,

and got to work.

In case you're looking to rob my house, I won't tell you how we eventually got in.  I will, however, paint a word picture for you (since the moment was a bit too intense in which to snap an actual picture): 

Dave's feet, sticking straight up through an open window.

That's pretty much all you need to know.

The next morning we awoke with drama behind us.  

They met me at church, where I had to play,

and then met me back at my house for a low-key lunch with a few of my friends.

 We got to know each other,

 we ate,

 we laughed.

I loved it.  [So did Kate.]

After a weekend of living in my life, my visitors got into their cars and drove away, our visiting time having run its course.

Come again kids; 

it's always good to have time with you,

 and your visitation rights--among other things?--are in full effect.

Birthday Joy ain't over, 'til there's flowers.

Do you know this about me?

Flowers bring me massive joy.

 As does a table full of pretty food, 

  ready for people, 

gathered,

 connecting,

smiling,

being.

Knowing this about me,

this very special friend and housemate invited a wide variety of my friends over,

to wrap my birthweek up with a house ringing with laughter, 
and all of the things I love.

Birthday Joy.

There were other things that made this day joyful.

First, there were the lovely men who

took care of the fact that my car was sitting in the driveway with a tire that --despite the joy of the event--was feeling rather deflated.

They [and a bunch of others I didn't get to document]

worked very hard.

Then, 

 there was the prettiest lemon cake by this pretty lady,

 with wishes for a new year,

and,

I'm not sure what.

But, it was Joy, and joyful.

I'm grateful friends,

for all of it, and for all of you.

Adaptability is my greatest strength

I'm not even kidding.

I took a strengths test, and that's what it said.

It's a good thing too, because my life is constantly changing.

First Emily and Aden decide to move an hour away, 

and then they decide to have a very cute baby.  

Then, Amy and Caleb realize they don't want to live without each other, and they go and get hitched.

Luckily for me, even in the midst of all this change, they still like to have me around.  I think they know that the alternative is one change I would not be willing to accept, despite my 'strength'.

It's because they are my Truth-tellers, 

and they help me live in Strength.

So, using my birthday as an excuse, we gathered for a day at the nearest beach for sand dwelling in bathing suits, and a picnic.

We packed the car with everything we needed, but, the day being cloudy with threats of rainy, we took adaptability by the throat, and were completely satisfied without even looking at the sand.

Instead, we looked at

a spread of yummy snacks,

the aforementioned very cute baby,

our grillmasters,

and a good, easy conversation 

between old friends.

Basically,
we just had fun.

Happy  Birthday to me, indeed.

Let's talk about Joy.

Birthday Joy, to be specific.

I have a Birthday Joy policy, and the policy is this:

If you made it through another year, 

you should probably celebrate it.

Luckily, I have people around me who agree.

Hence, my Birthday Eve was kicked off with a birthday message in my bathroom from Sara (the most creative birthday celebration planner I've ever known...) when I woke up,

and dinner with these beautiful, strong, and special-to-me women:

We gathered at the Autoport,

and my heart rested joyfully in the bringing-us-all-together.

Birthday Joy is about bringing people together.

These friends gifted me,

with one of the most amazing gifts I've ever been given:

A book, full of messages from a variety of people, telling me what they love and appreciate about me, wishing me joy in the year to come.  A book, reminding me that I have a purpose in the lives of those I know and love.

Birthday Joy is knowing your life is invested well.

The next morning I awoke to a house full of decoration by Sara and meaningfully-placed gifts by gift fairies.  

Birthday Joy involves balloons.

Everywhere.

I went to school with treats, and my class indulged me in my birthday delight, and then I sat in the sunshine with God,

and thanked Him.

Birthday Joy is knowing that God has given you Life, 

to live, whole and holy.

Later, I spent the afternoon with Heather and the girls, at the pool.

Birthday Joy involves lounging with people who know you and your lounging language.

Then, it was time for a delicious Birthday dinner at the Otto's we all love.  [Kate loves it so much, she couldn't wait to get started...]

Birthday Joy must involve food.

When we were joyfully full, 

we  made our way home to welcome more friends

for a Birthday movie and popcorn.

Just because.

Birthday Joy.  Watching a movie with fun people when you should probably be going to bed.

 Then there was cake that reminded me of my childhood, 

 since it was the kind of cake my 

Grandmother used to serve at Sunday dinner.

Birthday Joy remembers warm moments from your childhood.  

That night I went to bed, feeling loved and cared for by good friends, and looking forward to more good times, because:

Birthday Joy should continue for at least a week!!

When you don't even try

 Remember these beauties?

Well,

 they're dead.

[Don't ask me to talk about it, it's too painful.]

Only this scraggly mint has survived,

but in the words of my 'expert',

'mint can survive anything'.

Even me.

My hope has turned to discouraged indifference.  My mint will probably prove that expert wrong.

Now I sit on my deck in some kind of mournful watch, as if on the edge of the hospital bed, just waiting for the end.  

I usually bring a book.

Today, however, something caught my eye, sparkling in a forgotten corner.

This:

an empty pot, left for dead since last summer.

  Once the beauty inside of it had disappeared, I pushed the pot off to the side of the deck, and pretended it didn't exist.  

Too depressed to deal with it.

So, today, I sat next to it, and looked at it.  Really looked at it, for the first time in awhile.

You see, I'd been aware that the pot was changing, but only out of the corner of my eye.  I had put it into the category of 'avoid at all cost, it's too painful otherwise', and had blocked it from my real vision.

And today as I sat and stared into it, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I couldn't believe I hadn't seen it before.  

And then I realized:

How often in life we do the very same thing.

Push something out of the way, because we believe on some level that we have failed it, and can only avoid it from here on out, because the alternative is to either admit defeat or try again, and neither one feels possible. And, because we're terribly terribly afraid of what it is we'll find, if we were to look closely again.

 We stick it off to the side, and sit in a cloud of indecision regarding what to do with it.  We get so good at not dealing with it, we can't even let ourselves see that our lack of decision has become a decision anyway. 

And, in the meantime,
we miss what's growing before our very eyes:

Something far more interesting than anything we could ever have intended for ourselves.  

Looking into that pot, I realized that even when I wasn't trying, and even when I didn't think I deserved it or that I could accomplish it, something grew anyway.

And, it's neat.

That's grace.  When I didn't even try.

[P. S. Those of you waiting for birthday blogs,
they're on their way!!]