Whirlwind Weekend

We've had a busy weekend—making a gingerbread train, a gift from a friend at church; making new stockings (a longer post on this to come); cleaning up the house in anticipation of dinner with friends from the Chin congregation meeting in our church. . . . Alas, language barriers and some possible cultural differences in solid plan-making meant that this table remained set but empty.

Thankfully some good friends came to the rescue and were able to come over last minute and eat our food and help me ease gently out of "full hostess mode" as my husband called it. After all, we didn't want a clean house to go to waste, especially since we had gone to the trouble of removing this from the hallway . . .

I came home from choir practice Wednesday night to find this large plywood train engine taking up my entire hallway. The explanation?

Zach: "Calvin saw it when the youth were cleaning out one of the storage rooms at church and I could tell he really liked it."

Me: "But what are we going to do with it?"

Zach: *Sheepish grin.*

Apparently when they were putting it in the trunk of the car (or rather when they were putting half of it in the trunk of the car while the other half dangled precariously out over the snowy road, held in by one bungee) father said to son (with, I suspect, not a little glee in his voice), "Mom's going to be mad when she sees we've brought this home." And Calvin laughed. I have the sneaking suspicion this is the first of many such bizarre acquisitions those two will carry out.

At the moment the big black engine is in the garage at the mercy of the red squirrels. But if it survives the winter and is not too chewed up in the spring I think we'll clean it up, paint it some fun colors, and use it as part of the decor in Calvin's room as we try to make it more appropriate for a little boy rather than a baby. I'm just not quite sure yet how it will be secured to the wall without ripping the plaster down.

Today was the first of a few days of feverish work for me as I finish writing catalog copy for work. But on this snowy evening, I want to leave you with a lovely and well-known 1923 Robert Frost poem to encourage you to take some time for quiet natural beauty this week. I know that on Wednesday Calvin and I plan on trekking over to Fenner Nature Center to explore the snowy wood. You should find some snowy woods as well.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening 

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound’s the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.