Fall in the NW.

A couple of you have commented that I seem sad and lonely in my last two posts. I'm not really that sad all the time. I just save my blog posting for nights when Seth is gone. After a day of chasing Boogaloo around, a dinner of leftovers, and an absence of husband to look forward to at night, the blog gets me at my lowest, and so do you.

I confess that for whatever reason, I've been awfully tired these past couple of weeks. I blame the receding sun, the activity level of my two-year-old, and the constant presence of political ads. Seth called from the boat tonight to tell me that he will have to work tomorrow morning, so instead of sitting in church together as a family, I'll come home to my exhausted husband at lunch time for the third Sunday in a row. After he hung up, I was so miffed that I just had to get out of the house, so Boogaloo and I went for a walk between rain showers to admire the puddles and jump in the leaves. Our perpetual canopy of cloud and rain have only just set in on us for the year. The last month has been absolutely gorgeous. We've had sunshine nearly every day and the fall colors have been spectacular. I've only just noticed the colors this fall. The last few years I've been disposed to complain because we really don't have enough red near our house, only dingy yellows with brown edges. This year, as the dark clouds rolled in, I noticed that a yellow tree can really light up a skyline. In fact it can positively eminate energy. On a cloudy day, surrounded by dark conifers, a red deciduous tree is a torch (this picture comes from the Catholic church parking lot), and a yellow one is a veritable sunbeam (this one is in our neighbor's yard). The tree in the background of this picture has been my saving grace these past few weeks. It really cheers me up when the rest of life gets me down. Every day, I pull into my driveway and drink in this radiant bundle of leaves. It acts like a sun on a stick. My eyes get wider, my pulse gets slower, and I take a deep breath every time I see it. As the weeks go by, it gets progressively brighter, bolder, and redder, even as the leaves get fewer. I wish I knew what kind of tree it is. When I get to a house I expect to stay in, I'm going to plant several.

I wonder if autumn foliage could really serve as sunshine during the fall. Does the eye respond to color like the eye responds to sunshine? Could autumn foliage lessen the effects of Seasonal Affect Disorder? Could the brain process the colors of leaves into more seratonin during these winter months? Light therapy, the most common treatment for S.A.D., involves sitting near an intense light and absorbing light through the eyes (don't look directly at the bulb). A tree in autumn foliage reflects more light than its greener counterparts or a cloudy sky.

Who knows? It would be interesting to find out whether places with brilliant autumn colors have fewer or briefer episodes of Seasonal Affect Disorder and depression, all other things being equal. Perhaps that's why we enjoy looking at autumn leaves so much. We get back some of the sunlight that has been stored in them.

Other kinds of trees I'd dearly like to plant include maple sycamores and poplars. They are the sources of our most brilliant colors around here. Near the highway, where the conifers have been cut back and let other trees in, is one of the most spectacular autumn sights I have ever seen. I would back my trees against Vermont or New Hampshire or any other place that is famous for its trees. We have maples, maple sycamores, birches and beeches, all breaking through the deep green branches of firs and lighting up an otherwise dismal charcoal-colored sky, and occasionally a vibrant golden poplar towers above them all. I love driving up the 3 to Poulsbo every week, but alas, I can't share the feeling with you because there's no place to pull over and take a picture, and I wouldn't expect to capture it if I could. Some things just have to be seen for themselves.

Facing Change.

The other day, as we were driving to church, my husband turned to me and said, "As you might have figured out, I actually like change." The context for his statement was a loop the Navy had thrown at us. Seth is set to separate from the Navy toward the end of next summer. The Navy had decided, for various reasons and purposes, that it might possibly separate him at the end of this fall. The key words were "might possibly." The military doesn't deal in definites, at least not in advance.

Seth was excited. When the personnel people told him that he might no longer be 2nd class Petty Officer Atsma by Christmas time, he immediately began thinking about what his new job would be like. He began picturing himself tearing down nuclear reactors at the Hanford Nuclear Reserve or flying out to Hawaii to fix submarines and coming home within a week or writing software for the healthcare industry in Madison, Wisconsin. He saw only possibilities. Okay, that's not entirely fair. He saw difficulties too, but for him the possibilities easily overwhelmed the difficulties, questions, and confusions. He was confident that everything would work out. He always is.

I saw things differently. I could see his possibilities, and I like them, but the most present thought in my mind was "What do I do now, and what should I do first?". I could see a million obstacles between how things are for us now and how things will be when the Lord provides. We have a house which we just re-sided and refinanced. Said house is not ready for sale; it needs new paint in almost every room and cleaning of every carpet. Because of said residing, we have no savings to speak of either. We have no job at the present. We will have neither health nor life insurance once we separate, and we have no experience finding health or life insurance either. The Navy took care of that. This is what I saw in my mind when Seth came home and said, "Oh, by the way, Love, the Navy told me today that they might let me go at the end of November."

I think my panic disturbed him a little. In his mind, he takes care of the necessary, and God takes it where He wants to go. So he put his resume out on job engines and began applying to the few jobs in his field in our area. He was completely calm about the whole thing, but the whole time, my mind was racing, and in spite of a strong sense that God was going to work everything out smoothly, I couldn't help but say to myself "What if . . . . what if . . . . what if . . . ?" I wasn't questioning Seth's ability to get a job or his competence in taking care of our family, but let's face it, there are a lot of people like us out of work right now. These are frightening times, and I respond to those fears more than he does. I think he understood that that's all I was doing, but I could also see that he was hurt that I couldn't join in his excitement at the prospect of something new.

Remember premarital counseling, when you both sit down with the pastor who is going to marry you, and he goes through all the questions that help you figure you if your marriage is going to last. (My pre-marital counseling sessions were conference calls. That's what happens when one's fiance is in the Navy.) Our pastor asked us questions about spirituality, our relationships with God, marital headship, love languages, attraction, money, and expectations in life. No one thought to ask, "How do you approach change? Are you comfortable with the way your spouse approaches change?" I wish he had. It's an important question, a question that should be thought out ahead of time. A time of big change is a time of big stress and uncertainty. It is not the time that someone wants to be blindsided by systemic marital misunderstanding.

Seth and I were prepared for it for a disparity of feelings on this subject. If the Navy has taught us nothing else, it has taught us to be open with each other about our feelings in trying situations. They've pulled premature separation on us before, but never with this much probability that it would actually happen. I know that Seth has been looking forward to civilian life almost as long as he's worn a uniform, and he knows that I would rather put up with anything than face uncertainty. But I can face when I remember that Seth is by my side, and God has us both in a very strong grip. And Seth can put up with a few more months in the Navy for the sake of my sense of security.

As it turns out, the Navy has decided that it will keep Seth until the end of his enlistment. I could see that he was disappointed. He comforted himself by saying that at least he'll be able to go to Guam and eat at his favorite restaurant one last time. Poor comfort to a man who thought he'd be a civilian in a few weeks, but he hid his disappointment for me. As for me, I did my darndest to look less relieved than I felt, but I don't think I was very convincing. I know that sooner or later separation will come, and it will probably come smoothly, but I'd like time to meet it. We still expect to get out in August, and until then, life goes on. After that, well, life will go on too, and somewhere deep inside of me, I'm learning to be okay with that.

Peter Rabbit

Annika's first encounter with a live rabbit happened while we were camping in the Olympic rainforest.

Late again.

I meant to publish this post on Fathers' Day. Seth was supposed to get them before he left the Philippines in June. That' s how long these pictures have been sitting in blogger saying, "Post me, post me." But between personal projects, VBS, and homecomings, I just haven't had the time. So it follows that some of these are pictures only a father (or grandparent) could love. However, I flatter myself that they're all pretty darn cute.

It is summer, and so we spend a lot of time in the water up here. Annika prefers the bathtub because she doesn't have to wear clothes in it.

We have a swimming pool too, but everytime she gets in it, . . .she thinks she has to strip. Check out how nasty that water is, and she's willing to be naked in it. It never fails but that she gets in the pool and takes the clothes off. I suppose I should be thankful. It cuts down on laundry. And she evidently thinks that swimsuits have other purposes.

Laundry basket boat. We've all done this at some point or another.

First pigtails to stay in. They lasted fifteen whole minutes! But then she figured them out, and now she won't let me anywhere near her if I have a hairbrush in my hands. Our favorite sport: table climbing. The quilt I'm working on. There was a point when I thought quilting was the apex of domestic activity, way above the level of a part-time domestic diva like me. The truth is, it's not as hard as I thought it would be. I now have the top pieced, and I am beginning to quilt the whole thing together. I'm quilting by hand, which is a little tedious but also somewhat addictive, like crocheting.

Making Ernie ride the horsey. Boy, she got a kick out of that.

Annika singing along to Veggie Tales. You have to listen closely.

That's about all for now. Seth is home, and when I post next, I will include some pictures of our aborted camping trip.

Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob!

Annika has discovered Veggie Tales. Or rather, I got her three Veggie Tale dvds, little dreaming how quickly she would take to them. I always promised myself that I wasn't going to be one of those moms who inculcate my children with imaginary role models (are there any moms out there who do it on purpose?) like Disney princesses or Dora the explorer. No fancy character bedspreads. No "Cinderella teaches the ABCs." My kids were going to develop their own personalities. Well, her personality likes Bob the tomato.

For those of you not familiar with Christian children's media ( I don't think there are many among my audience, but you never know), Bob the Tomato is a computer animated tomato who translates Bible stories into cartoons starring other computer animated vegetables like Larry the Cucumber, Jr. Asparagus, Dr. Archibald Asparagus, Jimmy and Jerry Gourd, and the Grapes of Wrath. I was in high school when VeggieTales first came out, and it was so quirky that they let us watch it in chapel even though it was aimed at a much younger age group (in some respects at least).

Every morning, after breakfast, while I'm getting the day ready, I put in a VeggieTale. She asks for them by name. "Mommy, Tales." And she sits on the chair in front of the computer until the video is done. She sings the theme song. "If you like to talk to tomatoes. . ." "Matoes." "If a squash can make you smile. . ." "Smile." I got her on tape. And when I turn it off, she gets really upset and yells "Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob,Bob." This morning, when I turned it off, she wouldn't be happy until I drew her her own Bob and Larry. And she named them. "Bob" and "Laiye." I think we might have to follow up on this trend. Just a cute picture.

Pinewood Derby results: pathetic.It went all of eight feet. It didn't even get off the curved part of the track where the cars build up gravity. Not that I competed. The adults didn't compete. We had our own races while the results were being tallied. Pastor Dave made a big announcement about how I'd always wanted to build a car and this was my big opportunity. And my car went eight feet.

We've had a lot of rain here lately, so much rain that our wading pool is full, and I never turned on the hose. Annika loves water and has no regard for temperature, so yesterday we went outside, and she played in the pool. Then she discovered that she was wet and took off her shorts and diaper. So I convinced her to put on a swimsuit. Doesn't she look like an aerobics instructor from the 80s?

That's about all for now. We haven't heard from Seth lately, but we assume all is well. God bless everybody.