Flag Day

If anyone, then, asks me the meaning of our flag, I say to him - it means just what Concord and Lexington meant; what Bunker Hill meant; which was, in short, the rising up of a valiant young people against an old tyranny to establish the most momentous doctrine that the world had ever known - the right of men to their own selves and to their liberties.  ~Henry Ward Beecher

The day began with a late start.  Somehow I set my alarm for the p.m. rather than the a.m...but the extra sleep felt very nice.  I took my little one to her pre-kindergarten summer school (tardy ~ I really despise that word), and then spent some very productive time at the grocery store.  Because I am a working mom with kids underfoot, I am rarely afforded the luxury of shopping, alone, at a leisurely pace.  This morning there were no emergency detours to the restroom, no special requests in the candy aisle, and no attempts at sneaking Justin Bieber magazines into my cart.  Instead, I loaded up on onions (green and Vidalia), peppers (green and red), mushrooms, olives, chilies, Italian sausage, pasta sauce, and so many other [and less exciting] items.  I prepared two Italian sausage lasagnas, one for tonight's dinner and one for the freezer, and felt like I'd actually accomplished something.  This afternoon I'll prepare chicken pot pies and cheesy enchiladas for the freezer as well.  I'm attempting to stock meals for my upcoming absence from home ~ my month of incessant writing and coursework and research and, well, my month of just being gone.

My little one is attending the school at which I teach.  This should prove interesting as she is fiercely independent...and stubborn.  (Hmm, the apple doesn't fall far from her momma's tree.)  Today her teacher expressed concern about Lane's coloring.  Quite frankly, it has been a sloppy mess.  I've noticed it too.  Curiously, Lane is extremely artistic and usually colors beautifully.  Apparently she wants to be the first one to finish her work.  Quality matters less to her right now than it does to her teacher and mother.  I am hopeful that the new box of crayons and princess coloring book (also purchased during the productive grocery store adventure) will encourage her best work. Otherwise, maybe the chocolate milkshake [also known as a bribe] will.

My middle daughter is here this week (see photos below).  It is a place I love, a place where many good memories were made, a place to which my heart returns when I wish to deny that I am getting older.  Fortunately, childhood ~ and church camp excitement ~ is but a thought away.

Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.  ~Proverbs 22:6

 

  

 

There are newer buidings on the campus now, but I am quite fond of the older ones: the chicken houses and barn, converted into dorms and a chapel.  The drive to camp is a treat in and of itself.  The jaunt requires travel on old, two-lane highways; across one-lane bridges; over gravel roads near towns with names like Spring Valley, and Spring Garden.  The property is nestled in a hollow where the strongest smell is that of grass and clover...and cows.  And this is what I found along the roadside.  I only wish I could have captured the heirloom roses, whose vines long ago began their ascent high into the trees.

 

 

The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land. ~Song of Solomon 2:12

xo, ~S.