March 15: Pictures All Up

Phil figured out how to hang several pictures that didn't come with hooks (he hammered in little nails or grommets on either side and strung wire between). Then he drilled into the concrete exterior wall where I told him to, and in the end, I had a wall above my bed with a sweet picture my sister did of me as a girl on roller skates (my Dad and I used to roller skate together around town), and a cartoon by my brother-in-law of Phil climbing and me with a wheelbarrow of Bibles 4 Babies, along with a cross-stitch my maid-of-honor made as a wedding gift.

And on the other wall above my bed is a collection of things I love: three weddings gifts, a postcard of my favorite Georgia O'Keefe painting from her museum in Santa Fe, an illuminated manuscript with the blessing my Dad prayed over us nightly. It's a very "me" wall.

And when I walk by, I can look in and see a very "me" room!

Phil also got out level and measuring tape and hung the art I had for over the loveseat. The largest painting we call "Singing and Dancing in That Land," a song we sang in Boulder about heaven. I love that wall.

And the room as a whole, too.

I continued on the ice cream kick. The boys finally gave out after about the fourth batch. I suspect, though, that as much ice cream as I can make, they will eat.

Phil spent much of the gorgeous day outside. He continued the general site cleanup. The boys helped him remove broken concrete blocks. Those that still have a section intact he'll bury on the ramp up to the barn to stabilize the slope. All broken bits went into the tractor bucket and into the dumpster.

Then Phil regraded around the down slope, trying to help the land contour so that it doesn't drain toward the house.

He cut down the southern tip, and then went to work on the final hills of dirt from original excavation.

We had a mound of topsoil set aside, although all mounds seemed to grow weeds with similar ability. But we were surprised to see how much more rich, dark, and vibrant the topsoil was, once he started to spread it out.

Will a garden come up from this ground?

I have three little seeds-in-a-cans that Isaiah and I planted last week. And all three sprouted! I was so grateful! I had watered and forgotten about them, and then figured they had dried out and died. But, no, there there are!

I had a miracle today. Late in the afternoon, I grabbed Caleb for some photos. I first put him down near the boys' window. The three younger boys were all with me, helping Caleb laugh, laughing themselves. We were having a good time.

I moved Caleb away from the window to get different light. And I got a gorgeous photo!

As I glanced at this photo, the older two boys, in exuberance, climbed onto Isaiah's bench. And the bench tipped over, and the boys on top fell down. Right where Caleb had been, but wasn't any more.

We could have been on our way to the hospital. And instead, I had a baby who cried a bit because I scared him when I screamed, and a beautiful photo that doesn't serve as a reminder of tragedy, but a reminder of God's grace.