"I actually sort of like the name Edmund," I say.
"Huh," Jane says. There in the passenger seat next to me, I glance at her. "Of all the Narnia characters," she says, "he's the only one I can really see myself being."
"I know what you mean," I say. It's a sunny afternoon, hot, just enough time to hit a thrift store before the dinner hurrah. Her and I had slipped out. "It's such a redemption story," I say. "First he's the worst character, and then he ends up the most noble, most honorable."
"Yeah," she says. "And I can just see how he doesn't want everyone bossing him around."
"Huh," I say. "Gets us every time."
"Yup," she says. There in the front seat, she seems ten years older.
We complete the loop, thrift store to home, a few books in tow. But best pleasure of all, we trace some immovable principle and note all the same curves. Growing up, it's even better than being born. Complexity takes wings.
6064. Yarn, buckets of discontinued yarn for more sweaters.
6065. I begin to invent a sweater pattern.
6066. The perfect knitting ruler.
6067. More thrifted books and a white mixing bowl.
6068. The kids take over pizza night, and we have it twice in one week.
6069. I make hot chocolate three times this week.
6070. I run into a friend at Trader Joe's, and we compare notes on life's sadnesses.
6071. Craig mows the lawn, and it looks like a soft carpet.
6072. The kids help him on an extra event for church.
6073. I find another A.W. Tozer book.
6074. "Don't you know my love language?" Jack says to Lucy. "Its giving people things." he plops a square of chocolate next to my lunch plate.
6075. This baby seems pounds bigger these past days. I can't imagine another 10 weeks of growing and stretching. I watch, amused, tired. Store clerks comment that I MUST be due any day.
6076. Patience, gentleness, I find the adage true that these gems are not easily mined.
6077. I set my mind to grow in ways that make space for more kind-hearted gentleness and genuine patience. May they mark the fall this year.