Long Time, No See

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But I have a really good reason, I promise.

Yes, I have horribly neglected this blog because it turns out, despite popular opinion, I do have a daily word limit and while it is a disturbingly high number, it does exist and instead of blithering to y’all, I wrote 2 gigantic women’s Bible studies. Want in on Ezra? Starts the third week in September, online — email me at barbraendlein@gmail.com and jump in.

I have also been writing talks for baby and bridal showers and have concluded that possibly the only thing more fun than public speaking is writing the talk in the first person and having someone else read it! The things I can make people say… teehee… years ago I actually tried to become the sort of freelancer writer who would write people’s wedding toasts and Christmas cards and oddly, no one took me up on it; I may have pitched it in a mildly creepy manner. Something about forging personalized notes for a fee. But this baby shower thing is fun.

Ok, so I owe you several months and at the moment, I am sitting in a very tiny pink Airbnb in San Diego, CA (don’t stalk me. Unless you’re sending me takeout from that donut place down the way, and then see the email above) which smells nastily like old tobacco and looks out on a heap ton of asphalt, so as I see it, I have time. I am here on a perfectly superfluous trip (my favorite kind, the sort I almost never take) while my Glamorous and Brilliant Friend is off learning about spinal cord injuries. No, it’s not court ordered. She is doing it on purpose. More on this trip later, but first, I think I can try and wrap up this summer with bullet points.

  • We finished our school year by mid-May. Quail are bomb. Before you ask me about this school year, don’t; Boy Quail and I have just barely started using the words “school” and “fall” rather than shouting “BLEEP!” or “Dashity Dash Dash Dash!!” We are getting there.
  • Amazing birthdays this summer. Funny story, leaping back to sunny San Diego for a moment, I was sitting, all 39 years old, next to my Glamorous Friend, who turns 39 next month, ordering elderflower margaritas yesterday. She got carded. I did not. Somehow, over the years of people assuming that I was decades older than I actually am, I made the faulty assumption in return that as I actually aged, my visual age would stand still and somehow the two ages would catch up with other and meet in the middle. So far, no dice. Instead, my friend has waitresses asking her if it is weird to have a mother with so many tattoos.
  • Baking, train rides, meeting with my Southern Buddy every week at the lake halfway across the state to let kids splash and make sure we get sand that stays with us for days, Quail bringing in their flowers and vegetables, ferociously bad sunburns (I tried to tell them that such is the epitome of summer, that they would cherish those fiery memories into their old age, but I don’t think they believed me), and adopting a cute almost never scary library, where we routinely take out 100 books at a time.
  • Funny story about that library… it really is, generally, a very quiet place with a nice librarian (gasp! Unheard of), but a few weeks ago, Youngest Quail and I were walking across the library when an elderly woman in a purple shawl caught sight of me and shrieked, horrified, “HAVE YOU BEEN IN AN ACCIDENT?!?” It took me a minute to figure out that she was referring to my tattoos. I was wearing shorts that day, so they were pretty visible. I held my littlest’s hand and smiled big and explained that, no, they were all on purpose (side note though: what kind of vehicle do you suppose you would have to be hit by in order to get a picture of Dick Van Dyke’s face imprinted on your shin? Boy Quail and I assume a Tesla) and she proceeded to explain to me in great detail that by marking my skin, I had signed on to be the eternal companion of Satan. Then she realized that the slight, wide-eyed child was mine and her horror was compounded — people like you have children??! Yep, I smiled, I have four. Apparently, there is nothing to be done with such a person as I, so she hollered verses at me and shuffled away. People think I am paranoid about King County libraries…
  • Superior Nephew wed his Superior Bride! You always like to think that your own wedding was the best in the world… seriously though. His was better. Best I have ever seen, or been privileged to be a part of and man, my wedding was amazing. His bride is the picture of loveliness and I cannot imagine two people more well-suited. And because this is my blog and I don’t know how to put up pictures, I will tell you the one thing that went wonky. You will be shocked to learn that it involved me (what do families do if they don’t have middle children to humiliate the clan? Adopt?). I was delighted when he asked me to play the ceremony (the reception was a rocking contra dance situation — I don’t even know how to describe it. So cool). I managed to get the bride down the aisle with my extremely nominal Bach-ward abilities, but at the beginning of the first hymn, a fingernail snagged on the edge of an old key and blood began to pour. Who knew we had that much blood in one little finger?? The ceremony turned a bit macabre for me as I splashed through my own life blood. Not much to do about that. The minister thought I was being metaphorical when I mentioned having bled over my nephew’s wedding…
  • Speaking of the minister. This was the sermon from the day after the wedding and it blessed me to bits. Take a listen. https://www.kingscrossmoscow.com/sermons/fearing-god-and-honoring-parents

There is surely more to say. But takeaways for today…

God is gracious. His gifts abound — look! Summer always gives me a weighty sensation of blessing, like I am drowning in care and in His gentleness. Joseph told the Egyptians to stock up for the coming famine; so with us. Fill your minds and hearts with the truth of God’s word, with the reality of His mercies which are pushed strong into all the nooks and crannies of your life. And winter comes, physical winters and winters of the soul, feed on what the Lord has given you. Feed on summer.

  1. Ellen
    | Reply

    GAH! The interwebs never notified me that the blogging has resumed. (Seriously, one cannot sneeze without the phone vibrating with an unsolicited suggestion of a brand of cold medicine and yet I specifically ASKED to know about blog activity and I get radio silence from said electronic device.) It is already September 28, which means I have missed a whole month of Barbisms. I am grieving. But I can and shall turn this into a productive rage; watch out, ladies in purple shawls in libraries.

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