7 dead takes

One

I’m not sure if I can come up with seven whole takes today. Matt very lovelingly placed my regular modicum of tea next to my bed this morning but when I went to pour the milk I discovered there was and continues to be none. And all the girls are still asleep and all the boys at bible study, so I have to just lie here parched and asleep, because of their being no way to aquire the milk and so drink the tea. In some alternate universe I imagine I could get up and get it myself, but that can’t happen in this reality. Anyway, this is good because I forgot to make the coffee three weeks ago and so now we’re even.

Two

VBS was a resounding success. Hoards of kids, loud music, lots of shouting and happiness. I know our children’s person (she does have an official title but I don’t have it on my finger tips) says every year that she doesn’t want to do it and that it’s someone else’s turn, but every year she out does herself. I wouldn’t dream of taking over her spot as I’m pretty sure few others would either. She deserves a long restful holiday.

Three

I, on the other hand, need to put my head down and work very steadily and faithfully on Catechesis. By not facing it until this week I have probably done a very bad thing, but if I work very hard, it might be ok. Wonderously because of all the new classrooms, I have a big wide room that isn’t needed for the summer, in which to go and close the door and work uninterrupted. Children come and shuffle outside it, but with the door shut, they can’t get in, not knowing the keypad number. I am spread out like a green bay tree with all my stuff and not having to pick it up or anything so that I can go and get right to work. I would love to work and work and work and be ninety percent done by the end of next week. Hopefully, cough.

Four

That would mean not sitting down periodically to rearrange my dollhouse furniture. I rescued it from the school room and brought it up for safety to my own room, and there it sits, unruined by ghastly little hands.

It needs a little remodel. You can see the poor clock there without its glass covering.

Five

Part of the real joy of the dollhouse is how much it irritates Matt. There are so few things, in a truely happy marriage, that prove both vexing and jarring. You have to find things to argue about, to keep it exciting for the children, lest they become complacent and comfortable. Arguing loudly about the location of the dollhouse and why it’s so bad that I don’t have living room furniture gives them something to puzzle over. And honestly, it’s a lot more interesting than arguing about money or anything boring like that.

Six

I have to go pick or harvest or dig up, or whatever it’s called, the fennel. And the kale. The tomatoes are sitting there all green so they can’t be picked. And I need to go gather blueberries and make jam. So many things to do. I’m thinking of a little fish, to go with the fennel, and a measure of cream, overflowing, as it were, shaken together. The kale I’m going to give away. I just don’t think I can face it yet. It’s still too soon after the soup of satan.

Seven

It is a real pleasure to be in the NT finally. Much as I love Exekiel and Malachi and everyone, it is so immensely wonderful to wake up to “your sins are forgiven” and “he healed all their diseases” and “come to me all who labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest” and “ask and it shall be given”. It’s all deceptively simple, the words clear and uncomplicated, the difficulty of the call just as overwhelming as ever. Without struggling along for thousands of years under the burden of sin and guilt, they might even sound trite. But to me, poised as ever on the brink of woe and despair, they are really wonderfully fine.

So now, I guess I will go figure out the milk question myself. Even though I will have to face this evil creature who will also want milk.