Spring is on spring break

Since spring is MIA, here is how I found this bird the other morning. All puffed up, pushed up against the glass of the bird feeder, trying to stay warm. And I didn't blame him. It's been freezing!

And also since spring is away right now, there has been lots of time spent indoors. Usually around here that means it's loud, messy and someone is crying. So when I passed through my kitchen to find these three all playing "house" together, I decided to document the moment. It didn't last long, but it was beautiful while it was.

And finally, realizing that spring decided to take a little holiday, I keep having flashbacks to our own spring break trip. Poisonwood Bible was my spring break book selection. It turned out to be another book that I just can't get out of my mind. Before I returned it to the library, I even Xeroxed a few pages that had been so profound to me. So perhaps in an attempt to finally put this book down to rest, I will share a favorite passage. First of all, it's the story of a family. The father is a Baptist preacher who decides to take his wife and four daughters on a mission to the Congo. The girls ranged in age from 5 to 15 when they arrived. The mission was supposed to last only a year, but while they are there the country becomes unstable. The father refuses to give up and leave, and one of their children dies. The historical parts of the book are all true, so in that regard it was a very informative book in terms of the Congolese history. Barbara Kingsolver happens to be one of the most poetic authors I've ever read. Her words are so rich and meaningful on so many levels, yet no word it used superfluously. Amazing considering how many words she uses. Anyway, here was one of my favorite passages:


"A mother's body remembers her babies-the folds of soft flesh, the softly furred scalp against her nose. Each child has it's own entreaties to body and soul. It's the last one, though, that overtakes you. I can't dare say I loved the others less, but my first three were all babies at once, and motherhood dismayed me entirely. The twins came just as Rachel was learning to walk. What came next I hardly remember, whole years when I battled through every single day of grasping hands and mouths until I could fall into bed for a few short hours and dream of being eaten alive in small pieces. I counted to one hundred as I rocked, contriving the patience to get one down in order to take up another. One mouth closed on a spoon meant two crying empty, feathers flying, so I dahsed back and forth, like a mother bird, flouting nature's maw with a brood too large. I couldn't count on survival until all three of them could stand alone. Together they were my first issue. I took one deep breath for every step they took away from me. That's how it is with the firstborn, no matter what kind of mother you are-rich, frazzled half to death or sweetly content. A first child is your own best foot forward, and how you do cheer those little feet as they strike out. You examine every turn of flesh for precocity, and crow it to the world."



As soon as I read this passage it resonated. Anyway, it is a bit of a sad story, but so well written and beautiful that it was a joy to read. Add it to your list, Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver...


Now, weather.com says that this week we're going to see some days in the 70's, so perhaps we will be rewarded for having allowed spring to go on holiday. Let's hope so.