The Farm in the City

These are our friends, the Lieuwens. That is Liske reading to Anneke and Olivia. She is quite the dramatic reader...I'm not kidding, accents and everything. The Lieuwens have chickens. They used to have goats too, but they ate them. They live inside the city limits in Atlanta. While we were there I overheard part of a phone conversation that I have never heard and probably will never hear again: Rinda: "I just pulled a bag out of the freezer that says 'shank, shoulder, and neck.' Is it goat or pig?" I don't think Tim knew - so they just cooked it and waited to tell until they could taste it. We love the Lieuwens. Their lives are very rich and they love the Lord and his people very much.
Olivia helping Liske with her chores.

I took this picture so you could see the large, yellow paddle sculpture in the background. If I remember the story right, Tim was at some art museum or art show in Europe and saw something like this. When he found out how much it cost, he said in true Lieuwen fashion, "I could make that." So he took a bunch of pictures and he did (I hope I am not getting anyone in trouble here.) Actually, he made three of them - the other two are out on the trail on their property...along with the enormous tractor tires, walking beams made out of trees, huge half pipe slide, and gigantic boulders. It's not tacky...though my descriptions make it sound like it. You would pay money to take your children here.

Sleesa Scissorhands

Here you go, Sleesa. Sorry for the blog absence. Our life has been crazy since the holidays. The end of the semester is always difficult, but then we had company and lots of traveling. Then the funeral back in Atlanta. And we just got back last night from a weekend trip to Chicago. We visited a couple of church plants (looking for where we might head after seminary) and had some time with some of Mike's family. The weekend was cold by weather standards, but warm with fellowship (nice cheese, but I am serious).
These were the holiday haircuts for the kids. I've trimmed them a few times, but it is typically better (and safer) when my sister-in-law, Lisa does them. Plus, she has the cool capes. Just so you know, Lisa, Joseph has had another haircut since this - by Olivia "Truvy" McBride. We couldn't believe it. She has never been a precocious child. We had put her and Joseph down in the same room at Mike's uncle's - there were the typical noises of shenanigans, but Joseph was in the pack-n-play and well, Olivia really never gets into much. Something triggered my motherly instincts and so I went in to check on them - and found Olivia standing on a pillow, leaning over the side of the pack-n-play with my haircutting scissors in her hand! And Joseph was just smiling away, combing his hair with Mike's brush! There were little locks of his sweet reddish hair all in the bed. It really wasn't that big of a deal - his hair has been so slow come in and was longer on the top anyway - which is where she thought he needed the trim. I was more freaked about by the fact that Olivia is a bit of a klutz and I had horrible visions of her tripping and...well, no need to visualize. They were all fine and Joseph has that trendy mussed up hair look.

Art Museum

I don't know why we have not done this more often - especially since it is free. I was reminded of the art museum through another local friend's blog - and since it is 2 degrees here lately, we went. I tried not to be discouraged when Olivia asked, after only being there ten minutes, when we were going home.
Deep, meaningful, arty conversation...I think she saw the bananas in the painting and asked what we were having for lunch.

Family

These are some pictures from our trip to Atlanta last weekend. Though we were sad for the reason we were there, it was such a sweet time with family. My Aunt Gena (my great aunt actually), raised my dad and my aunt Joanie after their parents died when they were really young. She never married. She worked hard and loved hard and served hard. It was certainly a celebration of life as much as a mourning over the loss of her. It seemed not really appropriate to be taking pictures at a funeral, though I wanted to get some of the kids and their cousins. So, most of these were taken at the Chick-fil-A that we hit after the graveside service. Joe Joe and his Grandpa Tony are up front here. You recognize Olivia. Behind her is my cute, pregnant cousins Emily. Trey (my other cousin, Katie's husband) is the one scarfing the milkshake. Emily's husband, Kevin, is behind Trey.
Here is Katie and Trey (with one of his more intelligent looks I think). Again, Kevin present but not clearly seen.

After the visitation. It was so great to have a houseful (and funeral home full) of kids.

Here is another woman (like my Tootsie)who doesn't look her age, but isn't she a schnazzy dresser - check out that sporty vest - and of course jewelry. Any good southern woman has on her jewelry. Just don't ask her how old she is...or ask my mom what happens when you do...it wasn't pretty. (By the way, this is my uncle Alex's mother, Grandmother Flewellyn.)

Christmas continues

Just before we left for my Aunt's funeral, the kids received another Christmas package. Jeff and Pam, I tried to take pictures so you would feel like you were here.

Thanks for spreading around the Longhorn Love. Joseph digs the van too.

Tootsie

This is my Tootsie. She neither looks, nor acts her age. We miss you, Toots.

I will be bleaching it

Olivia has all but dropped her nap. It is a sad transition - she doesn't seem old enough to not be napping. Actually, she isn't old enough and can barely (emotionally) make it through the day without a nap, but you can't pin her down and tape her eyes closed so here we are. Occassionally I will lay down with her in my bed and after many reminders to lay down and be quiet, she will eventually fall asleep. That is where she is now.

Today as we lay there snuggled close together, because with the temperature as it is here that is the only logical place to be, Olivia was tracing my lips with her finger. Honestly I had almost fallen asleep myself. She whispers, "Mama, I want one of those." I thought to myself how sweet it was that my daughter wants lips just like mine. Then her tracing finger widened over my upper lip and circled around. "Is that a beard, Mama?" she asked. My cozy lingering on sleep was unkindly disturbed. No, it is NOT a beard! It is a mustache if you must know and it is not polite to point it out, especially on women! Especially on your mother! Your uncle Jeremy tortured me for years over this thing. "You know you're a redneck when you decide to grow a mustache because it looks so good on your sister." Not funny.

Don't bother to look for it...because I will be bleaching it.