Of Baby Baskets and Bathtubs

 My sister brought this little baby basket back with her when she returned from a visit to Honduras in the mid-eighties. As the passengers adjusted themselves for the flight home, she had it at her feet, and just before take-off the stewardess walked past, muttered "everything but the kitchen sink" under her breath, grabbed it up, and tried to stuff it in the overhead compartment. My sister ended up carrying the basket all the way home to Texas.  Then Turtle cut foam into the shape of a mattress; my mom sewed a removable cover for it and made little bumper pads to keep the scratchy sides away. Two of my children, at least four nephews and nieces, and two grandchildren took a turn at sleeping in it. Now, it's a Blaze basket, as you can see.

 (I'd really like to have a picture of every baby who slept in this little basket...in the basket, if that's possible. Send them to me and I'll do a sequence.)

 In the evenings, Blaze still doesn't sleep too well. He gets transferred from car seat to swing to bouncer to bassinet to basket...but mostly he just fusses for somebody to hold him. I went to bed at ten o'clock last night so I could relieve the baby-handling crew later. 





 Sure enough, at one in the morning, he still hadn't given anybody any rest, but he was tired enough to give up when I rocked him and tucked him in for the night. In fact, he set a new record of five and a half hours of blessed sleep. Looks like more peaceful days may be ahead for Elijah and Marie.

 This morning, after he ate, I decided that he could sit in a bathtub on the table while I made coffee for myself, swept, and picked up a few things around the kitchen. The lighting was perfect for me to grab the camera...which I had just happened to place conveniently on the kitchen bar.

 What do babies think about when they sleep?
He smiles one second and frowns the next.

 Frequently, he chuckles aloud.

 Hey! Wait a minute! Who stuck me in a bathtub?

Busy, Busy Fall

I really don't sit down and relax much these days.
School is crazily busy. Right now I'm practicing twice a week with the academic team for their district meet on Monday, and practicing in the evening for the upcoming senior play.
 For these two sophomores, whose moms work here, this bench might as well be their front porch; they spend more time here than at home...but don't seem to mind too much.



Having forty seventh and eighth-grade students is wonderful, but it keeps me grading papers as fast as I assign them. Their solution...of course...is "Don't give us any work to do". I tell them that I answer to God for how I teach them, and if I gave them nothing to do, I'd have a hard time explaining to Him why I took money for teaching them, but only babysat them. They talk. I tell them that they will never learn anything that way because everything they hear themselves say, they already knew. So they hold their hands over their mouths to keep from commenting until question time, and they listen to stories with wide-eyes and sometimes subtle smiles (if they already know what's coming next-- which, believe it or not, many don't). Right now we're in Genesis. They're amazed that so much happened between Adam and Moses...and I don't even tell them everything.

Last night was fall concert. Another huge "first" for the nervous seventh-graders.
Seated behind me were a couple of alumni...remembering...beaming at the superb performance of their younger siblings up in the choir.


Outside, the clouds staged another performance--a light show and offering of much-welcomed rain!
Life is pretty much the same here in this little corner of the earth.
We have a particular kind of peace.
I pray for years more.