Just Being Audrey

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Let’s go back a couple weeks or so, back to when I thought the most stressful thing about the fall would be four birthdays in the same week. We kicked off Birthday Week, the Friday before it really began. All about birthday traditions, we happily said , “Yes!” when my friend Megan suggested that last year’s tea in Leesburg become a tradition. Yes, ma’am we’d love to do it again this year and every year forever!

Tea is always fun. The tea house has an authentic vintage vibe and the ladies are truly British, so it’s the real deal.  They’ve gotten their gluten-free menu down nicely since last year, too.

As an added treat, Megan gave the girls a copy of Just Being Audrey.

Such a perfect book for them!

It’s a nicely illustrated storybook that brings to life a young Audrey Hepburn who wanted nothing more than to be a ballerina. We see an age-appropriate glimpse of living in hiding during World War II and then we are treated to the grown up Audrey—first an actress and then an activist speaking for children who could not speak for themselves.

It’s a sweet, sweet book. It reminded me of a book my friend Mindy recommended to me years ago, an Audrey book for grown-ups. Her best friend from home wrote a book called How to Be Lovely: The Audrey Hepburn Way of Life. It popped up as an Amazon recommendation once for me and I scrolled through reviews to find Mindy’s name. Since Mindy is pretty much not on the internet, the whole thing startled me. So, I asked her about it at soccer one day and she shared a little insight to the author. If you’re an Audrey Hepburn fan, you’ll love the way Audrey’s philosophy of life is brought to life in the pages. In Mindy's words, 

This is the perfect book to give for birthdays, hostess gifts, Christmas, Mother's day, graduation, or any special event in a woman's life. I sent it home with 15 ladies who attended a baby shower, and it has inspired several Audrey "film-festivals." Her thoughts on how to carry oneself with style, dignity and grace will translate to any generation. "How to be Lovely" should be on every woman's night stand.

So there you go, a little Audrey Hepburn rabbit trail and a perfectly lovely birthday tea.

{{For more about our Storybook Year, please visit here.}}

needle & thREAD

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I welcome you to needle and thREAD. What have you been sewing lately? Or are you embroidering? Pulling a needle with thread through lovely fabric to make life more beautiful somehow? Would you share with us just a single photo and a brief description of what you're up to? Would you talk sewing and books with us? I'd love that so much. Tell me about it in the contents or leave a link to your blog. I'll be happy to come by and visit!

You can get your own needle & thREAD button here in your choice of several happy colors.

I haven’t much sewing nor reading on which to report. I’m definitely yearning for some quiet morning hours in which to sew and some quiet evening hours in which to read. They are not presenting themselves just yet. I promised a picture of Sarah wearing her flannel Class Picnic Blouse. There she is, playing with helicopter seeds. Don't you love those?

I did begin to craft a dress for Katie this morning. I’d love to work some more today and finish it tomorrow. We shall see.

 

In the reading department, I’m still very slowly working my way though Living into Community. It’s great book, one that makes me want to reach for the highlighter incessantly. But I’m learning something about myself in the reading: my reading habits have been affected by my internet habits. I’m much more distractible than I used to be. I read a quote and have to fight the urge to Google the person who said it. I’m restless and can’t settle in to do the work of reading something so meaty. Needless to say, this observation about myself greatly disturbs me. It also makes me want to persevere—because it is a worthwhile book.

My friend Linda asked me to David and Goliath by Malcolm Gladwell (interesting thoughts on conversion in link). She asked me to read it because she wants to talk about it. That’s a guarantee I’ll read a book. Any book Linda wants to talk about is a book I’ll read. I’ve just begun. It’s my downstairs book. Living into Community is my upstairs book. Last week, when I was resolving some long lingering doubts and wonderings, I resolved to change some habits. One of them is “internet reading.” I’ve always been a voracious reader, but until recently it was “nose in a book” reading, not internet reading.  I think the “nose in a book” me is more peaceful. Peaceful is good.

So tell us all about your reading and stitching!

Happy Birthday, Mary Beth!

Sweet Mary Sunshine,

I know that you are no great lover of birthdays. And I know that you face this day as you’ve faced the last ten days—with a very heavy heart, but I want to stop a moment and talk about the miracle of you.

You burst into our lives in a flurry of pink. It’s hard to remember that once you were the “little sister, “ so well do you play the role of big sister. But once, you were the baby. I remember one day, when you were about three months old, catching a glimpse of you sitting in your carseat on the kitchen floor. We were just about to leave house and I was gathering the big boys (they were little then). The light played across the floor and caught your face in a halo. Perfect little girl.

That moment is still bright in my memory. I think about it all the time. I saw so clearly the gift you are, the girl you’d be. Pure love shining in the light in the center of our home.

God is so good!

“They say” that mothers should not try to be their daughters’ best friends. And, of course, they are absolutely right. Mothers should, however, endeavor to raise their daughters to be the kind of women they would choose as best friends. And one day, a girl becomes a young woman and her mother sees that that young women is indeed her best friend.

Thank you for being the best friend I could ever hope to have.

I love you.

Mama

Joy comes in the morning

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"Weeping may endure for the night, but joy cometh in the morning." Psalm 30:5

Perhaps joy will linger in the afternoon as well.

This afternoon calls for a quilt, a cup of dirty chai, and this lovely stack:

Woody, Hazel, and Little Pip

By The Light of the Harvest Moon

Autumn: An Alphabet Acrostic

Snowsong Whistling

In November

Christopher's Harvest Time

Apple Cake

Crawdad Creek

Brother Bartholomew and the Apple Grove

Mother Earth and Her Children

Pumpkin Moonshine

The Ox-Cart Man

Gathering My Thoughts

I find myself:

::noticing God's glory

There are two new trees on my front porch, awaiting some nice big holes. Mike’s studio sent us a crape myrtle and a dogwood to be planted. I’ve always wanted those two trees! I’m looking forward to getting them in the ground.

::listening to 

soccer sounds. I’m at the fields again while Nick plays. Familiar sounds of happy boys. Music, really.

::clothing myself in 

For the funeral, my boys all wore their wedding suits. A couple of them had to be let out several inches each. There was something incredibly powerful about looking down the pew at five boys dressed alike, five profiles so very much the same. Like arrows in a quiver…

::talking with my children about these books

The Mysterious Benedict Society! Oh my gracious, what a great book! Nick, Stephen, and I listened to it all the way to New Jersey and all the way back last week. Highly, highly recommended.

::thinking and thinking

About death and grief and legacy and blessing. I will never look at grief and mourning the same way again. I will never assume that my presence at a wake or a funeral is insignificant. I noticed every single person who came to grieve with us and I sincerely appreciated each one. This came as a surprise to me, no big lover of crowds. With each person, we were given a little piece of memory and not one was insignificant. I cannot overstate how much their presence meant to me. From a young age, Catholics are taught that burying the dead is a corporal work of mercy. Now, I fully understand why.

::pondering prayerfully

I’d love to tell you that it’s Scripture that has run through my head this week, but it’s not. At least not consistently. Instead, it’s Bette Midler.

Did you ever know that you’re my hero,

And everything I would like to be?

I can fly higher than eagle,

For you are the wind beneath my wings.

It might have appeared to go unnoticed,

But I’ve got it all here in my heart.

I want you to know the truth, of course I know it.

I would be nothing without you.

Thank you, thank you

Thank God for you, the wind beneath my wings.

Everything I would like to be. Amen.

::carefully cultivating rhythm

We’ve certainly lost our rhythm. Even the very basic stuff of life like sleep. Until last night, every night was interrupted by a child calling out in the night. Some of them were not so very small. If we can just restore sleep, I’m hopeful that the rest of rhythm will find us, too.

::creating by hand

I had a long talk with Ginny this morning about a Honey Cowl. Yarn is ordered. I still have sleeves to knit on my baby sweater and a sleeve for Karoline’s Tiny Tea Leaves, but that cowl will happen sooner than later, mark my words. Besides, sleeves scare me.

::learning lessons in

What’s really important. Careful readers will recognize that I was struggling a bit before my father-in-law died, just trying to resolve some things that have long troubled me. The loss of someone very close, together with a studied reflection of his life—very well lived—have made some of those puzzles of last month seem easy to solve. These days have been wracked with grief, but I sense certain peace in our not-too-distant future.

::encouraging learning 

Math. In an effort to regain our routine, I have insisted on math. Today, we will pull the books for “E” Week, though I don’t think we finished D. I just can’t go back that way. Better to move forward.

::begging prayers

for the repose of the soul of Eldo Merlin Foss, beloved husband, father, and grandfather.

::keeping house

My sweet sister is sending a cleaning lady at the end of the week. Incredibly thoughtful gift.

::crafting in the kitchen 

Hilary brought us lasagna on Monday. My sister sent an abundance of Chinese food on Tuesday. Kristin brought a million bagels the morning of the funeral. My mom sent sushi the night of the funeral. That’s all we ate all week. Everyone survived.

For Monday Night Football this week, Nick made Manhattan-style clam chowder. Back in the saddle. We’re getting there.

::loving the moments

when I catch his eye and know he’s remembering the same thing I am.

::giving thanks 

for friends:

::the one who received my urgent text on Sunday and prayed me home from the tournament. Neither of us knew what I was driving into and neither of us knew what Mike was already facing, but God did and His grace was sufficient.

::the one who prayed while I wrote

::the one who is too pregnant to move, but willingly sits and listens to me ramble on and on, while I try to make sense of the jumble in my brain.

::the old friends who picked up right where we left off and came to be with my family, to remember, and to comfort us with their presence.

::far-flung friends who have prayed for us and sent words of solace.

::my sister-in-law’s friends, who provided food for strangers and loved our tribe well.

::Mary Beth’s friend Molly, who sat with me for hours and sifted through years of photo memories. Sometimes friends are more than friends and when they are, they are Molly.

::Patrick’s friend, Zach, who was there with Granddad the last time my children saw him, was there on Sunday afternoon when Mike shared the news that he was gone, drove Patrick back to school, and then came home with Patrick for the funeral. Together with my boys, Zach carried my father-in-law on Saturday. We are grateful for Zach’s strength.

::my sister, the oldest friend I have. She has an uncanny knack for knowing when I’m at my absolute lowest and calling just then. Her support this past week has meant the world to me.

::living the liturgy

There is a beauty to living liturgy, a beauty that reveals itself in moments of sorrow. Planning the funeral Mass was a source of great comfort. Celebrating that Mass in community with people dear to us is a gift that defies words. God is very good.

::planning for the week ahead

We are going to put one foot in front of the other this week, trying to restore rhythm, stopping to soothe sad hearts, tending to the business at hand.

Tomorrow is Mary Beth’s 17^th birthday.

On Saturday, Stephen will play in the State Cup Final Four in Richmond. Mary Beth will go to a homecoming dance.

Life will go on.