The Call: Counting Down — Cheryl

Dennis and I are working hard to pay off our mortgage. After converting our 30-year to a 15-year, we converted our 15-year to a 10-year. It should be killed in just about seven years. We’re making great progress, but sometimes it’s hard to be patient when we think about the freedom we’re striving to attain. (Of course, we might not think it about quite so often, if the balance wasn’t displayed on the refrigerator — but it is nice to see that number steadily going down.)

The Response: Lucky Number Seven — Jessica

I used to think that I had six kids because God knew that I needed lots of practice to get the patience thing down. But I still had to room to learn and so I was given Danny.

And now I think I finally get it. Patience is more than just attempting to stay calm while the storm is raging around you and you’re doing your best to swallow all the frustration and annoyance. Patience is also giving others the room to develop along their own timeline.

Danny is still not crawling. But he’s close. He’ll get there and when he does, we’ll celebrate. And look forward to the next milestone.

He is really teaching me to live in the present and the present contains a well of patience.

The Call: The Dumb Ox — Jessica

Virtue is a habit of the will.
— St. Thomas Aquinas

Well, that may actually be a very loose paraphrase of Aquinas but it’s pithy and it works with teenagers. It’s one of those sayings that I repeat to the kids all the time. So often, in fact, that they seem to know when it’s coming.

Once, my oldest two were trying to lobby me for some new and violent video game that involved car thefts and general hooliganism. They were making the case that they realized it was just a game and pretend and they certainly weren’t going to go hijack a car and run over our neighbors.

“Yes,” I argued back, “but it’s the effect of the bad behavior on your habits because, you know, virtue…”

“is a habit of the will,” they interrupted, groaning, eyes rolling.

But they did slink away and never asked for that particular game again.

Response: New Growth — Cheryl

Inspired a great deal by a certain blogging partner of mine, I’m trying to develop the habit of slowing down and noticing the beautiful details that surround me. Without a doubt, the simple act of shooting photos every single day helps with that, but I want to do it even when I have no camera in hand, when there’s nothing to see but plenty to hear, when one of my kids has something of the utmost important to share with me.

The Call: Cobwebs on a Crucifix — Cheryl

The notion that cleanliness is next to Godliness holds no currency for me. : )

The Response: Smiles & Hugs — Jessica

As a stay-at-home mom for the past 17+ years, I have brought home no paycheck. But I’ve been paid in smiles, hugs and kisses. And that is currency far more valuable.

The Call: Chips & Queso — Jessica

Queso is always a creature comfort but even more so on a wet, snowy day. We are thoroughly enjoying our “snowquester” today in the metro D.C. area.

Response: Small Creature — Cheryl

Before Dennis and I got married, Dennis got a cat: a black cat named Moses. One of his co-workers had rescued it from “strayness” and Dennis agreed to adopt it. A couple of years later, shortly before Dennis and I got married, he moved into the apartment we would share for the first five months or so of our marriage, and it had a no-pets policy. So, Moses moved in with my sister and me (and the dogs and cats at our house), and my sister kept him when I moved out. A little more than a year later, though, my sister called one Sunday morning to say that she had just found Moses dead in the gutter.

I was never a cat lover, but Moses was something special. Therefore, I didn’t hesitate to purchase a picture book written by James Herriot called Moses the Kitten. I still have it, and I read it to the kids just the other day. Jack, who really likes cats, really liked the story.

The Call: Splashing — Cheryl

Every year, as Spring approaches, a large puddle forms in front of the house. It drives me crazy, but the kids tend to see all that water in a different light.

The Response: Size 14 — Jessica

My oldest son has really large feet. Size 14s to be exact. I’m not sure where he gets them from — mine are small and my husband’s aren’t much bigger. But when I see his huge shoes next to Luke’s or Danny’s tiny little ones, it’s quite the poignant reminder how fleeting it all is. Despite the headaches, hassles and tears.

The Call: Lunch Time — Jessica

Even though they may be humble, sparrows are very messy eaters! You should see the amount of seed that this little guy and his friend were tossing up during their lunch break at my bird feeder. What a mess!

Response: Cows at the Fence — Cheryl

Thoughts of owning a farm hold some charm for me, but when reality strikes and I’m reminded of how messy farm life must be, those thoughts quickly evaporate. I can deal with the messiness of my own particular brand of crazy life. Farm messiness? I don’t know that I could handle it.

The Call: Page from My Art Journal (Detail) — Cheryl

St. Juan Diego was a profound example of the virtue of humility (a virtue I’ve been trying to cultivate in my own soul). He once said: “I am a nobody, I am a small rope, a tiny ladder, the tail end, a leaf.” I read this quote back in December, but it has taken on greater meaning and depth since reading (within the past month) Graham Greene’s great novel, The Power and the Glory, which takes place in Mexico, Juan Diego’s homeland.

The Response: The Humble Sparrow — Jessica

Humility is not thinking less of yourself, it’s thinking of yourself less.
— C.S. Lewis

The Call: Feed Tickets Here — Jessica

My kindergartener went to a birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese this morning and, lucky me, I got to take him. I really don’t think CEC is all that bad — it’s noisy and crowded but the kids have fun and run around with their friends leaving me a few moments to chat with the other parents or play with my camera apps.

I also thought it would be the perfect place to get a shot of “count” since at the end of the party you have to count up your tickets to go claim the small plastic prizes at the exit.

I used Vignette to create the double exposure and then played around with various filters until I decided on the Holga plastic camera filter. The redscale filter also worked nicely. Here’s another example on my instagram feed that I think turned out a little bit better.

Response: Christmas Cactus — Cheryl

I can’t count how many times I’ve photographed my Christmas cacti (inherited from Mom), but I imagine they’ll star in even more upcoming shots.

The Call: Colorful — Cheryl

Dennis and I have been known to say that life is too short for beige walls. I have a similar philosophy about black ink.

The Response: Dark Stairs — Jessica

I have a thing for inky black shadows…

The Call: Exercises — Jessica

After each visit, Danny’s physical therapist makes a list of all the exercises they did during the session and gives him “homework” exercises to work on until the next visit. Since he has been receiving therapy since he was two months old, the book is quite full now and it is interesting to look back at the beginning and see how far he’s come.

Response: A List in Verse — Cheryl

I have to admit: when I saw today’s Call, I felt rather restrained. Opening the book of poetry on my desk and reading the next poem listed, though, unlocked a world of possibility. I smiled when I read the list of “essentials” for a nice picnic in a work by Omar Khayam (translated by Edward Fitzgerald):

Here with a loaf of bread beneath the bough,
a flask of wine, a book of verse — and thou
beside me singing in the wilderness —
and wilderness is paradise enow.

The Call: Well Traveled — Cheryl

Years ago, when I was in college, my aunt found this desk in the alley behind her Boston apartment. Since her tiny place was stuffed to the gills, she saved it for me. It traveled up to my parents’ house in Maine, then down to Dennis’s folks’ house in New Hampshire. From there, a friend drove it to Colorado (and lost the front “flap” somewhere between the East Coast and the Rocky Moutains). The desk came back to Maine when we moved (and finally got professionally refinished), and has taken up residence in nearly every room of this house. It seems happiest in the kitchen, and very often when Dennis or one of the kids is looking for something, I tell them, “It’s in [or on] the antique desk in the kitchen.”

The Response: The Joy of Baking — Jessica

Rather than the heart of the home, my kitchen is more like the main load/offload area — all those horizontal surfaces just cry out for stuff to be dumped on them. My pantry is probably even worse a collector of stuff than the counters. But that is all my own fault since, in an effort to be economical, I tend to buy big boxes of stuff from Costco.

The Call: Missing Piece — Jessica

You know that feeling like something is missing? And you just can’t put your finger on it? That until you find that missing piece your life is going to feel incomplete? Yeah. I’m there — but I’m actively searching. It will probably turn up under the couch cushions. Everything seems to disappear into them at some point or another.

Response: Walking on Water — Cheryl

Madeleine L’Engle’s Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art is not incomplete (at least, I don’t think it is), but my reading of it is. Remember when we bought copies, Jessica? I never made it past chapter two, but not because I didn’t like it. On the contrary, I loved it so much, I wanted to savor every word, every thought: thinking, reflecting, writing. But where did that get me? Almost nowhere! Ironic, isn’t it? Don’t think I’ve given up, though. I haven’t. The book has never made it to a bookcase. It has always been “in circulation,” so speak — ready for me to pick up at a moment’s notice, and it will remain in circulation until my ingesting of it is complete. Oh, an aside: before I looked at the book through my viewfinder, I never noticed the blue lines under the title.

The Call: Fire and Snow — Cheryl

I have not read Jack London’s “To Build a Fire” since college. I can’t remember the protagonist’s name, or even if he has a name, but I will never forget that story. In fact, it’s time to read it again.

The Response: On the Shelf — Jessica

I am not the protagonist in my own life. Or, at least that’s how I feel at times. I am sure that it is a common feeling among mothers. But I think mothers-of-many may be a little more prone to it. After all, if you only have one or two, they do grow up and become independent much sooner than we really think they do. But, when you’ve had a baby on your hip for almost seventeen years…well, things begin to look a little different.

The Call: Foggy Sunrise — Jessica

I’ve caught some pretty magnificent sunrises in my backyard. Most of the time we are too busy rushing off to school to really do more than notice and approve. Today was, however, a lot less rushed and I was able to take my camera along when I let the dogs out this morning.

Response: Speeding Down the Drive — Cheryl

Stella has never been especially fond of rushing down a snow-covered hill on a piece of plastic, but today, she seemed to enjoy the ride.