Instead...

I know that football, and particularly the Super Bowl, is an important part of the lives of many Americans. But for the Jones Love Federation, this past Sunday had something else to offer.

A beautiful sunny winter day atop Table Rock.

Week Two

10,957 Days

It feels like I've arrived, now that I'm thirty. I've been living and breathing a good long time. I've had, as my daughter would say, 10,957 sleeps. I feel like I have a newly acquired right to claim that I'm officially mature. For me, that particular sense of legitimacy has been a long row to hoe. At the same time, it doesn't seem possible that I've been with my husband for eleven years and that my youngest (and final) child is now three. Jeez, I'm not that old!


My daughter would also tell you that the best part of any birthday is the party, and this year my friends threw me a good one. A "Gender-Bender Star Search" one, to be more specific. Confused? I was too. But boys dressed as girls and girls as boys and everyone was supposed to be an 80's TV character. We had Punky Brewster and Alex P. Keaton, Cliff Clavin and Rainbow Brite. I'll limit the photos (trust me, your mental image is better) to this one: my personal favorite ensemble of the night, The Smurfs.

(Plus a Ninja Turtle thrown in for good measure.)

AND there was a Talent Show. This part was my idea. Partly because we have to compensate for a staggering lack of nightlife out here in the country, but mostly because it feels good to watch your friends put on a show for you. It does. And my friends happen to be quite talented, if I do say so myself.

There was a clear standout in this category, too. A runaway winner, really. And without further ado...

Thankfully, it must take a lot longer than thirty years before you really grow up.

Week One

The Arrival

This day, into the hearts and arms of her beautiful family, came Tallulah Rose.

Welcome, child. You were so worth the wait.

The Waiting

Forty weeks is a long time to count down to the arrival of a new baby. If it all goes according to plan, they take 280 days to develop. We can't hear their little voices, we can't see their eyes, we can't hold them in our arms. But we want them to have all the time they need in there to come out safe and strong. So we wait.

That's one of the things kids are good for: teaching their parents the virtues of patience. Even before they arrive. Well, at least we're not elephants.

By this, the ninth month, the 281st day, I can scarcely think of anything else. Even while I sleep, my head is full of visions of finally meeting this baby. And it's not even my own. Every time the phone rings, my heart speeds up as I run to answer it. Not yet.

Everything is in place. The nest is ready, there are blankets and clothes and diapers, two eager parents and even a big sister.

She's already got everything she needs and her lungs have yet to breathe in all the love. Love from all the members of our tribe.


We're all more than ready, and she'll come when she's ready and the waiting will be over. Soon I'll answer that phone and it will finally be her, it will finally be time. Until then,

we wait.

Handmade Hubby

I made my man some new duds for this winter and I'm thrilled with the way they turned out. I mean doesn't he look handsome? The hat is pretty simple but still exciting because A: I finished it and B: It fits. Usually when knitting I have issues with both of those things.

The shirt I am SUPER proud of. I've been planning on making it since this summer, but kept putting it off. I wanted to make him something that he would really like and want to wear. I used a vintage cowboy shirt pattern and added my own details with the stitching. Anchors on the front and a pirate ship on the back.

He loves them both (or so he says) but I believe him because I've overheard him bragging to his friends.

I get such a feeling of satisfaction from making special things for the ones I love.