Here are some pictures of David holding "my sitder" (strong emphasis on my). People have asked if there have been any jealousy problems (there haven't); actually, the reverse is true - David would like to think this baby is all his. A few days ago he told Mom he had a job. She asked him what that job was and he replied, "To protect baby Beff." He's pretty sweet himself. :)
Friday, May 30, 2008
David, Lord Protector
Our apologies for not getting more pictures up here within a better time frame. We are behind... and won't go into the boring details, but there has been good reason. :)
Here are some pictures of David holding "my sitder" (strong emphasis on my). People have asked if there have been any jealousy problems (there haven't); actually, the reverse is true - David would like to think this baby is all his. A few days ago he told Mom he had a job. She asked him what that job was and he replied, "To protect baby Beff." He's pretty sweet himself. :)
Here are some pictures of David holding "my sitder" (strong emphasis on my). People have asked if there have been any jealousy problems (there haven't); actually, the reverse is true - David would like to think this baby is all his. A few days ago he told Mom he had a job. She asked him what that job was and he replied, "To protect baby Beff." He's pretty sweet himself. :)
Saturday, May 24, 2008
I know that more pictures of the most recent addition are what are expected, but I recently came across this poem in an anthology (not to mention, I don't know how to upload pictures to blogger :), and thought it an appropriate reminder for Memorial Day weekend. Enjoy! -- Becca
Recessional
By Rudyard Kipling
God of our fathers, known of old-
Lord of our far-flung battle line-
Beneath whose awful hand we hold
Dominion over palm and pine-
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget-lest we forget!
The tumult and the shouting dies-
The Captains and the Kings depart-
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,
An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget-lest we forget!
Far-called, our navies melt away-
On dune and headland sinks the fire-
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday
Is on with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget-lest we forget!
If, drunk with sight of power, we loose
Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe-
Such boasting as the Gentiles use,
Or lesser breeds without the Law-
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget-lest we forget!
For heathen heart that puts her trust
In reeking tube and iron shard-
All valiant dust that builds on dust,
And guarding, calls not Thee to guard,
For frantic boast and foolish word,
Thy Mercy on Thy People, Lord! Amen!
Recessional
By Rudyard Kipling
God of our fathers, known of old-
Lord of our far-flung battle line-
Beneath whose awful hand we hold
Dominion over palm and pine-
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget-lest we forget!
The tumult and the shouting dies-
The Captains and the Kings depart-
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,
An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget-lest we forget!
Far-called, our navies melt away-
On dune and headland sinks the fire-
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday
Is on with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget-lest we forget!
If, drunk with sight of power, we loose
Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe-
Such boasting as the Gentiles use,
Or lesser breeds without the Law-
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget-lest we forget!
For heathen heart that puts her trust
In reeking tube and iron shard-
All valiant dust that builds on dust,
And guarding, calls not Thee to guard,
For frantic boast and foolish word,
Thy Mercy on Thy People, Lord! Amen!
Monday, May 19, 2008
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
A bit of nuttery
We interject for a few brief moments with something completely un-serious and unimportant (compared with recent posts on the recent developments of the recent addition to the family!), but hopefully it will funny to at least somebody else. (Ahem. Please do not leave condescending comments if you find it otherwise.) Actually, I read this poem to the girls last night and they both laughed. Maybe they were just humoring me... maybe it had to do with the late hour...
A few brief notes to make the next few brief moments a bit clearer.
~ after the row of * * * he changes character and
~ an "archipelago" is, and I quote, an expanse of water with many groups of islands.
In this case it is an expanse of trees and that, my friends, is one of the beauties of poetry: language is bendable to your every imagination. Anyway, the poem.
Race-Memory
(By a Dazed Darwinian)
I remember, I remember,
Long before I was born,
The tree-tops where my racial self
Went dancing round at morn.
Green wavering archipelagos,
Great gusty bursts of blue,
In my race-memory I recall
(Or I am told I do).
In that green-turreted Monkeyville
(So I have often heard)
It seemed as if a Blue Baboon
Might soar like a Blue Bird.
Low crawling Fundamentalists
Glared up through the green mist,
I hung upon my tail in heaven
A Firmamentalist.
* * * * * * * * * *
I am too fat to climb a tree,
There are no trees to climb;
Instead, the factory chimneys rise,
Unscaleable, sublime.
The past was bestial ignorance:
But I feel a little funky,
To think I'm further off from heaven
Than when I was a monkey.
A few brief notes to make the next few brief moments a bit clearer.
~ after the row of * * * he changes character and
~ an "archipelago" is, and I quote, an expanse of water with many groups of islands.
In this case it is an expanse of trees and that, my friends, is one of the beauties of poetry: language is bendable to your every imagination. Anyway, the poem.
~ ~ ~
Race-Memory
(By a Dazed Darwinian)
I remember, I remember,
Long before I was born,
The tree-tops where my racial self
Went dancing round at morn.
Green wavering archipelagos,
Great gusty bursts of blue,
In my race-memory I recall
(Or I am told I do).
In that green-turreted Monkeyville
(So I have often heard)
It seemed as if a Blue Baboon
Might soar like a Blue Bird.
Low crawling Fundamentalists
Glared up through the green mist,
I hung upon my tail in heaven
A Firmamentalist.
* * * * * * * * * *
I am too fat to climb a tree,
There are no trees to climb;
Instead, the factory chimneys rise,
Unscaleable, sublime.
The past was bestial ignorance:
But I feel a little funky,
To think I'm further off from heaven
Than when I was a monkey.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Sweet little Elisabeth Anne
Friday, May 9, 2008
The three little maids are now 4!
This morning at 5:04 a.m. God blessed us with a 10 lb. 4 oz. precious baby girl! Yes...it's a GIRL! :) She is oh so sweet and we are all very thankful that she and Mama are doing well!
Thank you to everyone for all your prayers for this little one...God is so good! Here is a picture of our little sweet sister! :) I'm sure that in the days to come there will be many pictures posted!
Praising our Lord and floating on clouds! Sarah for the whole bunch :)
Thank you to everyone for all your prayers for this little one...God is so good! Here is a picture of our little sweet sister! :) I'm sure that in the days to come there will be many pictures posted!
Praising our Lord and floating on clouds! Sarah for the whole bunch :)
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