Lake Waco Wetlands

With four weeks to go, JB, Brazos, and I took an early fall trip out to the Lake Waco Wetlands on Monday morning.  JB had the day off, the weather couldn't be better, and we were curious to see what the wetlands were like after having been drained over the summer and partially burned to promote diversity in new growth.  The cattails still looked to be taking over to me, but it was still quite peaceful and beautiful.

We saw the great blue heron nests from a distance and had fun imagining bringing the baby with us in his backpack carrier on our next trip out there.  It was great to put aside our normal routines and spend a peaceful morning outside together mentally preparing for the baby's arrival.  We also wanted to see if we could find some more photos of the wetlands for the baby's room but the education building wasn't open.  So far we have a great one of some dragonflies that JB got as part of a project at work, but we'd like a few more to complete the wetlands theme.  Maybe grandma Wilson would like to draw or paint something for the baby room too??

I'm writing about being outside like it was a novelty, as though I hadn't just spent the whole weekend at a women's retreat in the country.  The women of Hope Fellowship retreated to Clifton with Enuma Okoro to lead us in times of worship, reflection, and sharing together.  I knew it was going to be a great retreat when we started off sharing about ourselves through works of art and I got to reflect on a Matisse painting (the one with the red women dancing in a circle).  One of the best parts of the weekend was sharing a room with my midwife!  I feel so blessed that my midwife is also my friend:  someone with whom I share a church (we sit together as "musician widows" when our husbands are playing music for worship), eat meals, and exchange book recommendations.  Christy is right by all of her patients' sides throughout labor and delivery, but I feel like she has been with me in a special way already throughout the pregnancy, exulting with me as I grow and reassuring me through the less glamorous symptoms.  Knowing one's midwife or doctor is not necessary nor even possible for most women, but I am thankful for the special joy it has brought to my pregnancy.

...and a party for the Lands.

JB and I finally got to host Hope Fellowship and folks from the Farm at our house last night.  We first got to know the Lands when they lived at the World Hunger Relief Farm, but they've also become part of the life of our church in the last year, and now they are going away--moving to Bolivia to work with MCC for three years.  I have been so thankful for Sarah's willingness to talk to me about everything regarding childbirth and her openness about raising her own young children.  And now she won't even be here when our baby is born!  Sadness.  

We celebrated their new adventure with dessert and music on the back porch.  I hope that our house will always be a place where people can come together to play music.

And here are some beautiful women responding to Michelle's (on the right) exciting news--she and Matt have been chosen as adoptive parents for a pair of brothers!  They've been in adoption limbo for so long, and now they'll be new parents before our baby is even born.  Wow.  What an answer to prayer.

baby shower

Bethany, these clothes appear to be for a ... BABY!  The look of incredulity on JB's face here is just wonderful, isn't it?  No, we are not getting married again--this shower is for our baby who is due to be born in less than five weeks now.  Our new friend Kelly (Hi Kelly!) was kind enough to take pictures for our Hope Fellowship baby shower a few weeks ago.

The pre-school age children find it easier than we do to accept pregnancy and childbirth.  (And as the picture shows, they were very eager to help us open gifts.)  My encounters with 3-5 year olds during my pregnancy have been surprisingly profound.  They are just tall enough that they have to look up and over my belly to talk to me, and more than one of them has put her hands on my belly and said with a look of utter seriousness, "You are going to have a baby."  They ask questions like, "Can I see it?"  "When is your baby going to come out?"  "Why can't I see it?" When I tell them the baby is inside and is not big enough to come out yet, they stare up at me with a look of wonder that I can only describe as having some glimmer of memory.  They are, after all, not so very far removed from the womb themselves.  I guess I don't mean that they literally remember being in the womb, but they seem to understand or accept pregnancy and childbirth on an intuitive level that I have never perceived in my conversations with adults.  Whatever there is to this, I have very much enjoyed my interactions with children as a pregnant lady.  Hard to fathom that our son will be that age himself some day.

5 weeks to go

I've been nesting in the kitchen this morning.  JB came home at lunch to find about five different things going:  a fresh batch of yogurt, banana bread, apple sauce, and some polenta and tomato stuff I made for lunch.  I think I was inspired by the sub-60 degree morning we had here in central Texas.  Like a late-August morning in New York--just glorious.  We spent some time outside and got a few pictures of me with five weeks left to go before our son arrives.

I told Christy, our midwife, this week that I was starting to feel the symptoms of late pregnancy and she responded, "Finally!"  I've so far been able to enjoy all of the wonderful parts of pregnancy--the baby kicking and maybe even some hiccups--without the negative parts.  But now the swollen ankles, sleep disruption, fatigue, heartburn, and difficulty sitting for a long period or walking with any speed have all arrived.

On to prepare for a teaching on the parable of the unforgiving servant I'm giving in a couple of weeks, but I'll leave with a picture that shows how excited Brazos is about her new best friend coming into the world in a mere five weeks.

texas garden

JB has been REALLY into native Texas plants lately.  As we were sitting in the living room at the end of his lunch break the other day, he picked up the native plant book on the coffee table and started looking through it.   "I find it relaxing to read about native plants, don't you?" he says.  I had to laugh because I had never thought of it as relaxing per se.  In fact, I find it downright overwhelming.  With my limited knowledge of native plants, they all look about the same to me and I couldn't tell the difference between a salvia and a sage.  

Ok, JB just read this post over my shoulder and informed me that a salvia IS a sage.   ANYWAY.  A salvia and a muhly then.  Whatever.  

I am now, however, a native plant convert for a number of reasons.  On a practical level, they are great because they flourish in the texas climate (i.e. extreme heat and no rain for two months in the summer) without a lot of extra watering.  Also, I have learned to appreciate their somewhat scrubby aesthetic, especially when the grasses are mixed with the desert plants and other flowering plants.  But planting with native species is also about having a sense of place--about appreciating where you live for what it is and not trying to make it look like somewhere else.  Texas is really nothing like England, so why try to plant an English garden?  This is a difficult transition to make for a yankee like me who enjoys maple trees and water-loving plants, but gaining an appreciation for cenizo, pictured above, also known as texas sage, has really been quite satisfying.  Of course, all of this native plant business has nothing to do with good ole Texas pride...

And here is JB in the first stages of turning the front bed into a native Texas garden.  If the previous owners of our house ever find this blog, I hope they are not too horrified that we are digging up most of what they planted.  We are re-planting all of those bulbs in the backyard, Rebecca!  

skill swap

My friend Barbara and I traded skills last week. She taught me how to make yogurt, and I taught her how to make a big batch of artisan bread. So now I have a whole gallon of yummy homemade yogurt. I like just eating it with sliced peaches. JB likes it with muesli in the mornings. I need a recipe for muesli--it's just too expensive to buy on a regular basis.

JB also figured out how to make Greek yogurt out of this by straining out the whey. It reduces the volume by about half, but it is so rich and delicious. Especially when combined with another of our current projects: the bee hive nucleus.

Well, it's our current project to work our way through eating it. JB's college friend owns a honey business in Round Rock (Round Rock Honey), and for his 40th birthday (his own, not JB's) he gave us this hive nucleus just bursting with fresh honey on the comb. He's also the one who gave us a bee HIVE for our wedding. What can we possibly give Konrad for JB's 40th birthday?? We have basil in our garden...ummm...maybe some of my artisan bread:

This is actually the "skill" that I shared with Barbara. Considering I just follow a recipe, this should not really count as a skill perhaps, but she seems impressed. It is really easy and good and uses 100% whole wheat flour. JB says he could eat it every day. What should I learn how to make next?

The creek

I managed to get a few pictures of our unspectacular little creek before melting this afternoon.

I'm going to ask JB to write a post about all of the ideas he has for the creek and the surrounding land. When our lunch or dinner conversations start with JB saying, "So I've been thinking about the western annex..." I know that the imaginative militia in his brain has been winning against the daily siege of practical considerations. I want to say, "Maybe we should work on work on actually getting the land first..." or "Maybe we should finish getting ready for the baby first." But what about an irrigation system! A nature trail! A community garden! A bridge! A tree house! An owl house! Maybe it just takes me a little longer to adjust to new ideas. If even one of them worked out, it would be pretty cool.