Dear family (and maybe friends one day too),
Upon much urging from my dear brother throughout the years, I, too, have decided to become a blogger once again. I started this blog before Avalon was born, so the strange name (based on a favorite old song which is no longer a favorite, or meaningful) may change in due time. I'm keeping my first post about being five weeks pregnant, because it is a blend of embarrassment, nostalgia, and a testimony of the goodness of God and the distance I have come with His grace!
I love to write, and I have so many ideas that come to me abruptly at all times. I know you all will understand if there are any grammatical errors, or inform me gently and with great kindness, as the case may be. I wrote this tonight from lovely Moscow. I am in that state of exhaustion where I could sleep for days, but knowing I will be getting up in a few hours to nourish a young olive plant makes me want to just stay awake and get things done. Not much thought has gone in to this entry, but I can assure you that much thought has gone into other, future blog entries, which I have been saving and writing in my journal.
I took some of Christy's "famous" flour-less chocolate cake over to Grandma and Grandpa's tonight. I was grateful that I did, because when Grandpa thought I was out of earshot, he remarked indignantly, to say the least, "I thought she said she was bringing chocolate cake tonight", to which Grandma patiently replied, "It's in the fridge." Avalon sat on the floor between their two chairs and looked back and forth lovingly at them, making delightful squealing noises to let them both know how glad she was that they loved her.
I went outside to water the flowers, after a subtle hint from dear Grandma ("Your dad didn't come with you? It's too bad he isn't here to water the flowers..") Carrying a big, old watering can and refreshing little plants, which are cared about by my dear, sweet grandmother, is one of the most satisfying things to do in the summer. I spotted one of those nasty, hateful garden spiders. I hurriedly turned on the hose in full force, then instantly felt guilty for his imminent death. Why do I want to drown an innocent arachnid? He isn't on my bathroom floor ready to attack; he is enjoying a nice life in a garden outside. A fact came into my head, out of nowhere (well, from the third grade perhaps); spiders are actually beneficial to gardens and eat bad bugs. I felt relieved as I watched it flee the disastrous torrent. Not today, spider, not today.
I must go and pick up my dear child. In the process of mother's writing, her legs have become wedged under the couch, so she paws frantically at the things around her; then, once rescued, has been banging her head and tiny arms upon the floor and making swimming motions (I assume that she dreams this air-swimming will lead to actually moving somewhere, but with no effort on her part), nursing intently with wide open eyes, as if she may never eat again, and is now scolding me with squawks of anger for looking away for so long.
Love you all. Thanks for reading. It will be a process.
