Of my Sister

Harmony and I once had this conversation about how someday we wanted to homestead together. Well, not  quite together, but you know, be each others closest neighbors, a mile apart. Or maybe our houses would be next to each other, and our farms stretching in opposite directions. And with our opposite stretching farms, we wanted to homestead. For a year. And we we would live off the land. And raise our kids. And be each others best friends. For a year. Unless we really liked it, and maybe we would stay there forever. 


So, I have decided to homestead now! But I cant pretend very long; I am no homesteader. I mean, my potted tomato plant and three little pricks of herbs seem to be surviving the drought of the summer called "Heather keeps forgetting to water". Bu,t I am no homesteader. I read Pioneer Woman, and I cook some of her recipes, and my house is a home! But, I am no homesteader. I need my sister.


Harmony now lives in Oklahomah, and has a family, and is much closer to homesteading than I am at the moment. But I can guess that just because she lives in a not-so-little-duplex/house ... and it is near the prarie... I am going to guess that she is not feeling much like a homesteader either.


Tonight we talked about what our life would be like if we were neighbors. How entertwined our lives would be. How we would talk every day, multiple times a day. And we would be each others best friends. How I would know her children more in depth than the facebook pictures I stare at. How we would not have to ever "catch up", but we would always know. We talked about how much fun it would be. And then our laugh turned into a sigh, because we realized that this was not very real. And their was grief in that sigh, the grief that eluded to saying "I know! I know! Families were meant to live near each other." Because they were. And when we don't, it hurts. Because, we can't homestead alone.


Harmony, I wish you were here. So we could have dinner on my porch. And walk to the antique store/ coffee shop. So your kids could sleep over every Friday night, and be in my classes at the community center. I wish you knew Austin. And I wish I had more time with David. I wish that Austin and David were friends. I wish our lives were not 1877 miles away. (That's accurate, I checked.)


So, I have decided that it is about time for that homestead. Lets pick a place in the middle, and lets move. We can plant and sing and eat. We can get dirt under our toes. And giggle with the kids. And giggle by ourselves. And we can be each others best friends. We can be the big girls on the prairie, and live out all of our wildest Ingles dreams.


Ok, this is where I insert my own laugh turned to sigh. A sight that realizes the lack of reality. But... that sigh is turning back into a smile. Because I can choose to smile at whatever I want. And right now, I want to think about homesteading, :)


Harmony, I love that today was your birthday. And that you are my older sister. I love that we talked on the phone while I shopped for bathing suits, and that you told me all your learning about blogging. I love that you understand me, on a complex level, without me needing to do any explaining. I love that I get to come see you in 42 days! I love that we have stories and memories, but that our friendship doesn't rely on those alone. I love that together we can dream, and not feel too old. I love that I can still giggle with you, and that we can be the best of friends. I miss you more than Anne missed Green Gables while she was away at school. But I love you, as my kindred spirit and sister, more than any character in a book has ever been displayed.

Summer Camp Season

I work at a day camp. And it has become my life. I come in early, (well... sometimes) because I would rather make and drink my coffee there, hearing about my co-workers nights, than to be alone at home. I stay for long hours. Because I want to see the kids off properly, to see if it is to Moms house or Dads house they go, so I know what to anticipate in the morning. I talk to the kids all day long. And I talk about them all night long when I am home. I lay in bed thinking about them. I have even started dreaming about them! They are becoming my friends! These kids.

I have Treasure, and Fire Cracker, and Gemini. I have Daughter, and Challenge and Patience. There is Pouter, and Encourager and Clinger. And I love them.

Today we had a small group, and I just got to pay attention to them, in very individual ways. I got to learn things about them. I chose to have fun with them.

Gemini and I played War. And I laughed when we got doubles.
I laughed when Patience got jello all over her face, and laughed harder still when I got jello all over mine.
I grieved with Fire Cracker, when she was just having a rough day, and I cheered on Clinger as she faced a challenge!

This job is so much more than a job. Its a life style, and a kingdom chapter. This is very real life, what I am living with these kids. What they share with me. What I choose to share with them. And for now, I am ok with the fact that it has basically become my life. Because it is a season. A short nine week season.

Today Grammy...

My Grammy kept showing up today. I could not stop thinking about her. I kept expecting her to just be there. And she was.

 She was in her quilt that covered my exposed legs in the morning chill. 

 She was in the old woman who sat exhausted from a short walk.

 She was in the game of war I played with a camper, her laugh in the back of my head as I remembered the hundreds of rounds of this game that her and I would play. 

 She was in my hair. It was sticky and hard from an impass with jello that I lost. I remembered how she use to spritz my hair with sugar water to make it stay in place. I had forgotten about that for many years, until my impasse today with jello. 

 She was in the sign that read "Lets Party!" 

 She was in my sisters blog.

 And she was in my heart. As I showered and winded down my day, I though about how terribly I miss her voice. How I have seen her stuff, and smelled her smell... but I havn't heard her. I think I can in my head, but I miss her voice. Her laugh. Her sigh and whistle and hum. 

Even though she showed up today, so many times. I still just wish she were here. Death is a stinky, dirty thing.  One perhaps I shall never fully come to grips with. Because, although I could spend my day with her almost being there... I would rather have just had her here.