We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand. ~Isaiah 64:8

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Baby L says Daddy and Doggie

Well, you can't tell here, but usually WE can tell when she is saying "daddy" versus "doggie". These are her first words! At the very end you'll hear Erik say "SIT". I promise he's talking to the dog (who was trying to eat the camera right out of my hand) not Baby L!

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Fourth of July!

Gathering up all the Stuff we needed to take with us for our Fourth of July swim and fireworks party was quite a task: pimento cheese, squash casserole, swim suits, towels, changes of clothes, diapers, bottles, toys, etc. There was one item I really didn't want to forget: a camera. It was Baby L's first Fourth and I wanted to get lots of photos for the scrapbook!

I wandered around the house muttering "camera, camera, camera" until I could get to the cabinet where we keep The Camera. Unfortunately, my mommy-brain was too easily distracted and we went off without it. Oh, the guilt!

Then my friend, Donna, came to my rescue! She had remembered her camera (she has more functioning brain cells than I, don't believe her when she tells you otherwise) and was kind enough to send me some of the photos she took (one of the wonderful joys of the digital age - instant photo sharing). So, thank you, Donna!

Poolside - relaxing in the afternoon shade.

Not so happy.

Happy! Baby L's first dip in the pool!

LadyBug (on the left) and her two girlfriends
enjoy snowcones

The boys (H, or StinkBug, on far left) enjoying snowcones in the hot tub!

Here's a man with a pyrotechnical problem.

Hey, look, it really goes up there!

Hope you had a wonderful Independence Day!!

Friday, July 3, 2009

when the literal loses its Truth

In a discussion of the Song of Solomon . . .

I read the end of Ephesians 5 as an example of what happens when you discover a metaphor so elusive you know it must be true. As you elaborate, and try to explain, you begin to stumble over words and their meanings. The literal takes hold, the unity and the beauty flee.

p. 110, Cloister Walk, Kathleen Norris