Yesterday marks the one year anniversary of our residence of Sharpness Lane. While I watched the snow pour out of the sky, looking out my kitchen window, I was thankful we were here. So far, we’ve had a family of bunnies who were just lovely to have around, but met with their demise when Mrs. Fox entered the picture. My neighbor Bonnie and I have both seen Mrs. Fox. I’ve seen her once, she has seen her every morning. Today I met Barry the Wolf. He just felt like a Barry when he walked within two feet of our carport. He stood there, gave me a “non-committed” howl and ran on down the hill. We’ve always had Tommy the Cat who lives in the ditch right next to the circle in our cul-de-sac. He’s only spotted about three times a month, but I always hear him eat dinner in the woods. The girls are especially excited when they get to peep at the occasional deer family that wanders in the yard from to time to time. We’ve haven’t seen much of them since December.
Since January, we have been to the doctor as a family, more than a dozen times. But so far, everyone is pulling through and we are just happy to be able to keep our selves up. As far as the girls – well, let your mind wonder off to what it “could” be like as sisters, one almost four and one two-and-a-half. There is happiness and love and fun and imagination for about five minutes and there is a crisis. Someone scratches someone’s face, someone gets mad over the imaginary cake they are baking, and so forth. It’s endless. It’s memories. I say that because in the moment of a crisis, you have to remember that this is the process of raising children. Everything counts. Every word. Every method of discipline. Every hug and kiss. Every boo boo.
We have done a lot of visiting since January. We’ve gotten to see a lot of family and friends in the past month, which is always rewarding. Sometimes, in the midst of the adventures on Sharpness Lane, we get a little lonely and miss our loved ones as neighbors. We all do. Thankfully, we are only several hours away and have all the luxuries of modern technology at our fingertips.
But, as for now, on Sharpness Lane I am content in appreciating all the lovely birds that are beginning to explore our little cove to prepare for Spring. We’ve see a lot of snow this year and I am almost certain we will see more – probably in a few days. Snowy cedars and cardinals are nothing to complain about.
Ashley
Something told me to get my hair cut on Saturday. The in-laws were in town, I had cleaned all day Friday on my feet – that were bare, mind you. I never like to go into an event with untrimmed bangs and I needed something to distract me from the fact that my legs were increasing in diameter by the minute. So, I did it. After the worst fried chicken I had ever made in my life, I escaped out the door with a moment to myself, leaving Cora and Ben and his parents at home. I had no idea. No where in that moment did I realize that within twenty-four hours, we would have Oberlee. She was due on September 31. That was my grandmother’s birthday. It fit. It all made sense. Of course she would be born on that day. I sat in my rocker all night, walking up and down the hall with my sweet mother-in-law keeping an eye on me. It was a silent eye, but I think she knew something. I was convinced that my blood pressure was going up and I debated on calling my sister-in-law, who is a nurse and was present at Cora’s birth. I chose to rest. After a brief discussion with Ben on the front porch about “what in the world we were going to name this baby if it is a girl”, I resided not to name the child until it was born. I had at least two more weeks. And, I wouldn’t think of it again. I chose to rest. 4 am happened. Just like last time. A small little cramp. Labor is the last thing in my mind. I believe that I was up over twenty times throughout the night and I remember my father-in-law making some comment, in humor, about how he listened to the toilet flush all night. Just like last time, I endured it for about an hour alone. A lot of that time was spent wondering if I should wake Ben and have to go through the discerning questionnaire about whether or not this was the real thing. He had already been through this once and remembers the full two weeks of “I think this is going to be the day because I think I felt a contraction”. So, 5 am. Wake up Ben. I secretly wanted the questionaire. He didn’t believe me. In fact, I think we argued about it for a moment. I finally convinced him, and called the hospital a few times ask how long I needed to wait before coming in. It was a Sunday. I couldn’t call and bug the Women’s Clinic. I had resided to believe that I needed to go to the hospital soon. We decided to leave at 10 am. Contractions were about eight to ten minutes apart. They would be at least five by the time we would get there. Hopefully. 
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