A Thanksgiving Thought by Bobbi Katz

The day I give thanks for having a nose

Is Thanksgiving Day, for do you suppose

That Thanksgiving dinner would taste as good

If you couldn't smell it? I don't think it would.

Could apple pies baking – turkey that's basting

Not be for smelling? Just be for tasting?

It's a cranberry-cinnamon-onion bouquet!

Be thankful for noses on Thanksgiving Day.

Two wonderful books that will be on my wishlist for next year:

How I am, Really.

I love New Orleans. This city is amazing, beautiful, full of architecture that is breathtaking. The first week after we arrived, when I drove through town to see the community that we would move into, my initial reaction was I will stay here, if I can. I want to be a part of this history, this vibrant community, this will to thrive in spite of horrendous odds. New Orleans has a spirit that you can feel; the people here love their city, and have fought for her.

That said, I am lonely. I am depleted. The end of every day finds me angry at my children for being childish, my husband for not meeting my every need, myself for my innumerable failures. I'm not sure that God wants to hear from me, or if he does, that he's willing to act on my behalf. Does he expect me to rely on him completely? What does that even look like? What does it look like to not have a friend made of skin with whom to converse?

Yes, we have found a church, a wonderful place with lots of children. I'm sure that we will make wonderful friendships there. But that is going to take time.

I have not found a homeschooling community. My hippy-ish ways are foreign here. If I go to a park during normal school hours, I'll have to explain the craziness that is having three children five and under at home by choice.

At the end of the night, when I'm free to leave, to find a place to grab some coffee and walk around, I don't know where to go. One of the beauties, but also the drawbacks, of a true city is the lack of chain establishments that offer familiarity in unfamiliar places (except the Walmart, and that is just wrong… on so many levels). And I haven't found myself desperate or brave enough yet to just drive away in the dark and explore by myself.

So I'm taking it day by day. Trying to find the balance between relying on God to meet my needs, but acknowledging that I am only human and I am made for relationship. I need a friend.

God will meet me here, of this I am sure. He has met me far from home before. But in the meantime, I am trudging through a valley, admittedly, a beautiful valley, alone.

Nathan's First Love Letter

I have so many pictures of Hannah and Nathan, but of course they're all at the house in Concord. Oh well, I guess I'll save them for their wedding day....

My Current Desktop Picture

A Big Day for Nathan

Nathan has wanted a library card for quite some time. The rule at our library in Concord was that he had to be able to write his name on the back. Well, guess what:

Teeth! And Our New Home.

That guy is so cute. Unless no one is paying attention to him, then he looks like this:Yes, his face really gets that red when he's mad. Poor kid.

In other news, here are some pictures of our house. It's in what's called an "urban renewal" community. From what I understand, the builders took an old, run-down neighborhood, bulldozed it, then built a new community in it's place, keeping with the architectural style and street layout of the area.

The house is fine, nothing special inside, and COMPLETELY LACKING IN SHELVES! I mean, ANY shelves. So be forewarned, the following pictures are messy, because I can't figure out where to put anything with NO SHELVES.

And also, no artwork with very large walls. I'm working on that.

There are two bedrooms upstairs and one downstairs, which we're using as a playroom.

So, that's that. We're just trying to get back into a routine, fill up the refrigerator, find a place to put toys. I think we'll enjoy it here.

New Orleans, Here We, Ummm… Came?

We’re here! Okay, that was stating the obvious… but I figured I left all three of you who cared hanging with my face book status, so here’s the rest of the story:

Wednesday night before we left, some amazing friends came and helped us mostly finish packing. Thank you, Jesus, for amazing friends! We looked at what was left after we sent them home (because we were both brain dead and couldn’t make any more decisions) and figured we had about two hours work or so left in the morning. Can you say STUPID?

Thursday morning, departure day, arrived with a realization that we still had lots to do. LOTS. And three small children with no toys, books or movies because everything was packed already. So we ran around all morning trying to wrap things up. As we finished up, I put the kids in the car with a movie while we swept and crammed things in the garage.

Guess what happens when kids are in the car watching a movie for, well, longer than you expected? And no, not that. They were strapped in to their seats. I’m not THAT stupid! THE BATTERY GOES DEAD. That’s what happens. I think my husband owed his mental cuss jar some money. I hid.

Well, I guess we have more time! Not really the plan. But okay, we’re flexible. Brian started the car charger, took care of more weird guy tasks like checking tire pressure and such, and I chatted with my neighbor, Sara, whom we’d already said goodbye to twice. We put the kids back in the car, and Brian asked me to watch him pull out to make sure everything was good with the hitch.

Everything was NOT good with the hitch. Prepare for lots of fancy technical terms here: we bought this fancy new double bike hitch thingy that basically makes it possible to put the bike hitch with all the bikes behind the vehicle, then the cargo trailer behind that. So we’re about 80 feet long. Anyhoo, Brian started to pull out, and because of the extra weight, the hitch scraped. Badly. And got stuck.

I may have to take a loan out from the mental cuss jar.

After some inspection, Brian decided there was nothing for it but to just reverse and… unscrape? He needed to change the hitch. Which is connected to the fancy new double bike hitch thingy and the trailer.

Just a note: the kids were really awesome, and out playing with Sara’s kids, since THEY WERE HOME FROM SCHOOL ALREADY.

So, the hitch. This is the part Brian’s mom should NOT READ. Or my mom, either. Doing everything properly would mean unloading the bikes and taking everything apart, and well, we were already late. So Brian pulled the pin on the hitch and just drove out of it, switched it out, then had me back up to reattach it.

Can I just say that I was waiting for a scream of pain that would tell me I had just cut off all my beloved’s fingers?

So after much yelling back and forth of “back up TWO INCHES!” and “This is a freaking Suburban! It doesn’t only go TWO INCHES!” we successfully reattached the bikes and trailer, said goodbye to Sara again, and were off. Whoo! Yeah, it felt really long at the time, too!