The Call: Time to Clean — Jessica

The most important thing I learned from the FlyLady is that you can’t clean clutter. I try to de-clutter. I try to clean. I am just like Sisyphus, pushing that boulder back up the hill. Clean is not my strong suit which makes me the black sheep of my OCD family.

I’ve just started using the Method products and I really like their scent. I generally dislike scented things because they tend to make me feel sick or give me a headache but the Method products don’t.

So, yeah, clean. There you go. I’m having trouble thinking why on earth I would have selected this word. ; )

Response: Bath Time — Cheryl

I don’t know if that theory about too-clean environments causing weakened immune systems is true, but I’m not taking any chances. Bathtime is not a nightly routine — more like a weekly one, the kitchen floor does not get mopped too often, and our brooms spend more time in the closet than in anybody’s hands.

The Call: Just Enough Snow — Cheryl

We’ve barely gotten any snow, but that hasn’t stopped Henry from sledding in the front yard. Watching that kid living life with gusto brings me great joy.

The Response: Decoration — Jessica

Last Friday, as I was busy attempting to make paper snowflakes with the little boys, my daughter put together this paper chain and then hung it on the doorway into our family room. Since our Christmas decorations are being kept to a minimum this year, the chain is bringing me great joy with it’s lovely pastel colored cheerfulness.

The Call: Christmas 2012 — Jessica

I don’t know if I could say that 2012 was a fabulous year, but it was much better than 2011.

Response: Shiny — Cheryl

Every year, Dennis groans when I unpack the gold tinsel sphere that decorated my parents’ living room each Christmas. I, however, thinks it’s just fabulous, and I love to gaze at it, watching it slowly turn in the tiny air current that always seems to find it.

The Call: The Difference — Cheryl

Bernard Schopen was one of my favorite professors at St. Anselm College, and his words have stuck with me for more than two decades.

The Response: Let Me In — Jessica

I muttered, knocking my knuckles through the glass, and stretching an arm out to seize the importunate branch; instead of which, my fingers closed on the fingers of a little, ice-cold hand! The intense horror of nightmare came over me: I tried to draw back my arm, but the hand clung to it, and a most melancholy voice sobbed, ‘Let me in—let me in!’ ‘Who are you?’ I asked, struggling, meanwhile, to disengage myself. ‘Catherine Linton,’ it replied, shiveringly (why did I think of Linton? I had read Earnshaw twenty times for Linton) ‘I’m come home: I’d lost my way on the moor!’ As it spoke, I discerned, obscurely, a child’s face looking through the window. Terror made me cruel; and, finding it useless to attempt shaking the creature off, I pulled its wrist on to the broken pane, and rubbed it to and fro till the blood ran down and soaked the bedclothes: still it wailed, ‘Let me in!’ and maintained its tenacious gripe, almost maddening me with fear. ‘How can I!’ I said at length. ‘Let me go, if you want me to let you in!’ The fingers relaxed, I snatched mine through the hole, hurriedly piled the books up in a pyramid against it, and stopped my ears to exclude the lamentable prayer. I seemed to keep them closed above a quarter of an hour; yet, the instant I listened again, there was the doleful cry moaning on! ‘Begone!’ I shouted. ‘I’ll never let you in, not if you beg for twenty years.’ ‘It is twenty years,’ mourned the voice: ‘twenty years. I’ve been a waif for twenty years!’

— Wuthering Heights Emily Bronte

(one of my all time favorite books)

The Call: Fortune Cookie Truism — Jessica

Beauty is the gift of God.
— Aristotle

Wrapped in Ice — Cheryl

If you have to drive anywhere in freezing rain, it’s difficult to find much about it that’s positive. Seen through the lens of a camera, though, frozen rain becomes beautiful, shiny gift wrap.

The Call: An Animal of the Genus Bos — Cheryl

Bless the Lord, all you works of the Lord.
Praise and exalt him above all forever.

Angels of the Lord: bless the Lord.
You heavens: bless the Lord.
Sun and moon: bless the Lord.
Stars of heaven: bless the Lord.

Every shower and dew: bless the Lord.
All you winds: bless the Lord.
Fire and heat: bless the Lord.
Cold and chill: bless the Lord.
Nights and days: bless the Lord.
Lightnings and clouds: bless the Lord.

Let the earth bless the Lord.
Praise and exalt him above all forever.

Mountains and hills: bless the Lord.
Everything growing from the earth: bless the Lord.
Seas and rivers: bless the Lord.
You dolphins and all water creatures: bless the Lord.
All you birds of the air: bless the Lord.
All you beasts, wild and tame: bless the Lord.
You sons of men: bless the Lord.
Holy men of humble heart: bless the Lord.

—St. Francis of Assisi, “Canticle of the Sun”

The Response: Aminal — Jessica

Luke loves to play with his “aminals” and he has a large assortment of them. The cow is one of the few that is still unmaimed by the dogs who tend to think that they are chew toys.

The Call: Detail From an Embroidered Banner at St. Catherine of Siena, Great Falls, VA — Jessica

Sometimes, when you look at something very closely, you see the amount of work and skill that went into making the object so beautiful. That was definitely the case with this embroidered banner at the parish where my Lay Dominican group meets. I stood in amazement, staring at the perfectly done gold hem of the Christ child’s robe. If only my life could be that neat and tidy and well executed.

Today we had a retreat of sorts and I was actually able to attend Mass and the first talk before I had to rush back home to tend to the whirlwind of activities planned for the day.

Response: Wrapped Gifts — Cheryl

I am happy and somewhat amazed that I was able to accomplish so much today: wrapping gifts, preparing a package for the mail, printing 25 Christmas cards that my neighbor commissioned, typing in a poem and editing a photo for one of my blogs. I even got in a shower, and my kids are dressed, fed and content.

The Call: Supper at Emmaus — Cheryl

When I began teaching my kids at home twelve years ago, I became interested in art history, and while I appreciate works from many different periods, I find myself especially drawn to painters who seem to be especially drawn to light and shadow: Caravaggio, Rembrandt, Vermeer. Of those three, it is Caravaggio and his sacred works, like “The Supper at Emmaus” (above) and “The Calling of St. Matthew,” that really attract me.

The Response: Advent Peace — Jessica

It’s been a dry couple of years for me, spiritually speaking. Daily distractions and obligations have pushed aside much of my sense of living in sacred time. Luckily, Mother Church has a remedy for that and this season especially, I am trying (with the help of much Grace) to put the sacred back at the center of my daily life.

The Call: One Little Word — Jessica

Last year I got the bright idea to pick a word for the year. I suppose I knew it was doomed to failure — after all, how in the world do you get silence in the midst of seven children including a rambunctious two year old and a two month old? But full of hope I pressed on and chose the word that “called” to me. Silence. I even joined Ali Edward’s class.

Now, all year long, I’ve gotten e-mails at the beginning of each month reminding me of the “journalling” I’m supposed to be doing. Reminding me of the all the wisdom I’m supposed to be gaining by following the prompts of my one little word. Ugh! Talk about guilt inducing. Maybe this year I’ll use all those old e-mails but I’ll pick a more reasonable word. Oh but my heart still longs for that nice Silence. Sigh…

The saint pictured on the bottom, in case you are wondering, is Peter of Verona. I think I cropped off the axe that is buried in his skull, showing the method of his martyrdom.

Response: Rocking Chair — Cheryl

My dad spent most of his seated life in a rocking chair. We used to observe that we had rocking chairs in every room of the house, except the bathrooms. Now, ironically, I have only one rocking chair in my house (inherited from Mom and Dad), and it’s in the master bathroom. Not only does it make a good perch for keeping tabs on Stella when she bathes, it serves as a refuge that few of the kids think about. When I need silence (often in the morning when I’m trying to pray), I head up to Dad’s rocker.

The Call: Legos are Everywhere — Cheryl

My house is bursting with evidence that children live here.

The Response: Toys — Jessica

With lots of children, come lots of toys — round every bend, under every footstep.

The Call: Bud — Jessica

I finally took the plunge into homeschooling. I’m really just testing the waters because I’m only teaching my eleven year old daughter but it’s a start! So, today, for our science lesson we were continuing to work on plants and cell growth and differentiation. I picked a bud off of the dogwood tree in the front yard and carefully cut into it with a craft knife. And just like the book said, there inside the bud, were all the pieces of the dogwood blossom — just smaller and greener. How cool is that?

Response: Hankies — Cheryl

I come across my love of floral motifs honestly; my mother loved them first.

The Call: Artist at Work — Cheryl

This afternoon, the kids and I bought supplies for making Christmas ornaments. I envisioned an hour or so of contented crafting and sharing. I should know better. Even if the kids had been completely cooperative, I probably would have ruined it. I feel a cold coming on (no surprise, since most of the kids have had one), and I’m cranky. I hope Luke, Bridget, Henry, Sam, Jack and Stella forgive me for my lack of patience.

The Response: New Growth — Jessica

I decided to do Advent more penitentially this year so, in order to start out on the right foot, I actually made it to confession on Saturday. Fortified by the graces received in the sacrament, I was feeling more hopeful — like the young bean sprout shooting up out of the CD case. But all it takes is one afternoon of driving through DC area traffic and I am back to needing forgiveness.

The Call: Snack Time — Jessica

Miss T

It’s a very odd thing –
As odd can be –
That whatever Miss T eats
Turns into Miss T.;
Porridge and apples,
Mince, muffins and mutton,
Jam, junket, jumbles –
Not a rap, not a button
It matters; the moment
They’re out of her plate,
Though shared by Miss Butcher
And sour Mr. Bate;
Tiny and cheerful,
And neat as can be,
Whatever Miss T. eats
Turns into Miss T.

— Walter de la Mare

Response: Dinnertime — Cheryl

Dinnertime at our house is loud, chaotic, often funny, usually includes food good enough to garner praise from at least one of the kids, and always late. The dinner bell usually rings around 9 pm.

The Call: Six Iron, Five Iron — Cheryl

Luke started walking the day he turned nine months old. He started swinging a golf club within nine months of that. His handicap is now 0.3. Luke is passionate about golf. He loves the challenge of mastering a sport that always throws something new at him. He loves the learning opportunities that each loop presents. He loves working to play a better round than the last one, every single time he goes out on the course.

The Response: Passion is Red — Jessica

Red is my favorite color. To me, it is also the color of passion, of intensity, of energy. Tonight we drove through the Christmas (oops, I mean “holiday”) lights at the local park. After spending 30 minutes in traffic to get it, we made it through in only 20 minutes. The little kids liked it and it was nice to just be out doing something all together again.