For me, the easiest way to give an update is to share photos. Below are a few of my favorites from summer 2023.

First, here’s Ivan and Annalise and me atop Backbone Mountain overlooking Pleasant Valley. In real life, you can pick out our farm in the valley below, but I doubt it’s identifiable in the photo. This photo was taken in July, and another thing that’s not easily identifiable in the photo is the fact that I was four months pregnant. In next year’s family picture, there will be four of us.

This summer I spent a lot of time driving back and forth to a chiropractor about an hour from our house, trying to fix a recurring back problem. (Still working on that.) Annalise often came with me, and we’d stop at a playground for twenty minutes or so, an-easy-to-offer pleasure that in her mind made the trip well worth it. In fact, usually when I ask her what she wants to tell God thank you for, she says, “Swings and slides.” Here she is crawling through a tunnel at one of the parks, her eyes like stars.

Picnics have created several more fun moments this summer, whether on a Sunday afternoon or in the field while Ivan was haying.

This impromptu tea party made Annalise so happy! Little girls don’t care if the cupboards are cluttered and Gatorade serves as tea. Tea parties are always the best.

Annalise and I took a trip to visit my parents and siblings this summer. And would you believe it, caught Grandpa Ted and Grandma Rose taking selfies on the bridge.

If you’ve read Anything But Simple, you might remember that Dad planted over a thousand apple trees going into “retirement.” Well, those trees produced bountifully this year, and my parents were kept busy picking for weeks. Just a couple of days ago, Mom said on the family chat that they’d finally picked the last apple of the season. For those of you who live near Sheldon, Wisconsin, they still have plenty left for sale!

Here’s a picture of Annalise with a dear Wisconsin friend. What I love about this picture–besides the fact that it features two of my favorite people–is the contrast between their hair and skin.

And below is one of my brothers with his little son. It makes me proud and happy to see him be a daddy, and rock it. This is the brother I wrote about in my very first post, many moons ago. I remember how scared and nervous and terrified I was to think of people actually reading that post. I was overjoyed when friends and acquaintances made positive comments about it.

Blogging has done a lot for me. It got me used to writing for an audience.

We enjoyed a Kinsinger family reunion this summer. Ultimate frisbee below.

We hiked with friends during the early changing of the leaves. They’ve far matured in their autumn colors by now.

And we’re only ten weeks from baby’s due date. Amazing! I am still chugging along full steam ahead–albeit with lots of puffing and groaning and naps now and then–trying to get creative writing curriculum at a good resting spot before baby arrives. I’ve pulled out some wee clothes–they’re so very tiny, aren’t they?–but have yet to get them into drawers or the baby room ready.

I think I’m glad God gives us nine months to prepare. I seem to need every week of mine–but no way would I want it to be longer.

In case any of you missed it, another momentous even occurred recently when Rosanna in the Middle–a children’s book based on my mom’s childhood–came out. You can read more details in last week’s blog post.

And that’s it for this update! Next week I’d like to share a guest post from a writer whose newsletter I recently subscribed to. She writes about boundaries, a subject near to my heart because I’ve had such a struggle with knowing what good boundaries are and how to set them.

Until then, Luci

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“How about you, you, you?

You can come too, too, too,

We’re going to the zoo, zoo, zoo.”

Lyrics by Tom Paxton

That’s a song I remember from a children’s tape we used to have…anyone remember cassette tapes? Little rectangular boxes with a set of toothy holes you could stick your finger through and twirl, and long strings of miniature tape that would unravel and gnarl in curly hoops on the inside of your cassette player. Yes, cassette tapes were fun.

And without any sarcasm, zoos are more fun.

When my parents came to visit over Memorial Day, we all experienced Hovatter’s Zoo in Kingwood, West Virginia, for the first time. Annalise experienced a zoo for the first time.

Hovatter’s was perfect: relaxed and child friendly. Because visitors are allowed to feed the animals with food purchased at the zoo, the animals are quite tame and interested in the visitors. Giraffes bend long necks over their bars to lick up carrots, and parakeets land on shoulders and fingers to peck up seeds. I have a feeling we will be returning to this zoo many times.

And now, without more ado, pictures.

That chimp, by the way. A sign on his cage read something like: DO NOT TEASE CHIMPS. THEY WILL THROW POOP. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

I did not tease the chimps, I promise. I was just standing there innocently with Annalise in my arms when he scooped up some brown stuff and hurled it, quicker than it took for me to realize what was happening. I screamed. A small brown splatter landed on my leg. No further damages, thank God.

He was out of poop when Mom stopped by to visit, but he waved his arms and ran at her, like the silly bully at the end of the movie who can’t hurt anyone anymore but keeps blustering anyway.

Dad and Ivan stood in front of his cage and blew raspberries and teased him freely, with no consequences.

We think he didn’t like our dresses.

Ah, well. Not everyone does.

At the end of the day, we took the golf carts over the road and across the fields to Saffiticker’s, to buy ice cream.

It was a wonderful day.

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Over Easter weekend Ivan, Annalise, and I, along with Ivan’s cousin Raymond, took a short trip to Holland to fulfill one of Ivan’s dreams–to see the tulips in bloom.

First, we flew into Paris and spent one Friday evening there.

We did a quick walk through a small section of the Louvre–that vast art museum that used to be one of the palaces of Louis XIV. King Louis established France as a world power whose sophistication was emulated by the English, but his decadence and love of glory have made him representative of the self-serving aristocracy whom the French peasants turned against in bloody revolt eighty years later.

We also visited the Eiffel Tower. Sadly, since so much of our evening was spent getting lost and figuring out how to go places in a big city in a foreign language, we did NOT have time to climb the tower. We took a quick peek and pictures only.

From Paris, we took the train to the Netherlands, where we saw tulips.

And daffodils.

And canals and hyacinths.

We also toured a few windmills.

And tried Dutch snacks, courtesy of my friend Inger, who showed us around the Hague, the Netherland’s capital city. Trust me, the caramel-filled Dutch waffles you see us eating below were much, much better than the little foil-wrapped Dutch waffles they feed you on United flights. Another winner was Dutch pancakes–savory or sweet, for breakfast, lunch, or supper. Inger sent me a recipe, so if you come to my house, I’ll treat you sometime.

I found it interesting that Europeans have no germophobic American compunctions against unwrapped foods–although they do have eco-friendly European compunctions against overuse of plastic. The Hague’s outdoor market held piles of unwrapped breads and pastries.

Before we flew out Tuesday morning, we visited Floral Holland in Amsterdam, the world-famous flower auction where upwards of 30 million flowers and plants are sold a day.

Annalise did impressively well on the trip at catching her naps where she could take them. By Monday and Tuesday, loss of sleep had made her rather grumpy, but on the whole, she did well.

We returned exhausted. But now Ivan has seen a little more of Europe, and I can say I’ve been there.

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Ah….October. One of my favorite months of the year. It holds crisp, clear air, sky so blue you could punch it, leaves whose colors soak into your arteries, and a rich scent of dying things–which is in a paradoxical way a renewing of life.

October also holds my birthday, which turned out to be really fun this year. I wore my birthday gift–one of two new dresses from Ivan–and inadvertently invited company the evening of, not remembering it was the day of my birthday. Annalise’s adopted grandparents, Grandpa Bob and Grandma Ruth, and Joyce, my first Sunday school teacher when I started attending Mountain View, came bearing cards, cake, and a candle. Combined with the laughter and stories, it was a party.

I haven’t been blogging as regularly as I like because I’ve been trying so hard to keep up the creative writing curriculum I am helping to develop for Christian Light Publications. In September, a reader sent me an email titled “Would Love to Hear about Parenting in the Plain Mennonite Community.” I think she brought up a very intriguing subject, and her email raised some interesting points which I want to explore in my next blog post, hopefully next week (though that’s a rather optimistic forecast on my part, considering recent history!)

For now, though, here is an October update.

In early October, Annalise and I visited Grandma Dorothy in Iowa. It was a sweet reunion for Grandma and baby.

Of course, Grandma toys are always the best! Annalise loved putting toy animals in and out of this little bowl.

And Grandma’s crocheted antimacassars (had to look that word up to be sure I was using it correctly!) doubled as shawls and veils.

Also in October, we went on a picnic with the Petre family. After our sandwiches, apples, and cookies, we climbed the look-out tower at the highest point in Pennsylvania. There are eight or nine young Petres (I can never remember unless I have them before me), a father, and a mother, who happens to be poet and writer Sheila Petre. I enjoy her writing so much I’ve published her as a guest on this blog a couple of times: “Why a Mennonite Housewife Cares About the King of Saudi Arabia” and “Antics at an International Potluck.”

And just so you know, Allegra made the trip up and down the (possibly 59?) steps of the tower ten times, and Laurel toted Annalise up and down probably thrice purely from the goodness of her heart.

And here are a few pictures just because.

Sunday afternoon races…

…autumn leaves, selfies…

…and sunshine.

This is just a glimpse of our October. We also had other enjoyable times with friends and family. A friend’s wedding, a few lovely ladies’ parties, and a visit to Ivan’s sister. And work, of course. Ivan harvested beans and managed a shop. I arranged words and managed a baby. A baby full of big personality and decided opinions, I might add. Do all babies have that? Or is that the Kinsinger coming out? ;)

Wishing you all a rich November.

Luci

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With Grandpa Jonas gone and Grandma Dorothy moved to Iowa, the Kinsinger siblings decided to distribute Grandpa’s leftover possessions–much of it still from the years he was married to his first wife, Ida–through a family auction. The siblings traveled from their respective homes for three days of sorting, discussing, and boxing. On a Sunday near the end of July, the grandchildren started to arrive. That Monday we held the auction, family only allowed.

My Somali-American friend thought it terrible that a family would actually sell a loved one’s possessions for money. How disrespectful to their memory! In my culture, we would give things to family or donate it, she said. Not sell it.

To be honest, my opinion of a family auction before we had one didn’t rank much higher. I was GIVEN a rocking chair from one of my great grandmas and a few precious dishes from the others. Why not, you know, just let the family pick stuff? But an auction is a time-honored tradition in Ivan’s family and considered the simplest and fairest method of distribution. Ivan’s dad kept a list of items and their selling prices from HIS parents’ family auction, and Ivan and I inherited or bought things from this family auction that Grandpa Jonas had acquired way back then. I think people really value the things that they pay for, and Jonas and Ida’s household goods and mementos will be treasured by their offspring for many years to come.

All this to say, I changed my mind after taking part in the auction. It wasn’t a cutthroat affair as I had pictured in my mind, but unique and fun and family. Not everyone got everything they wanted, but that would be impossible however you slice it. We had a good day, and we treasured our loved ones’ memories, and we showed each other love.

This Kinsinger family is so very different from my own, but I really like them. A lot.

And yes. Pictures.

In the days before the auction, the siblings took turns picking some special memento-type items like diaries and dishes, old-fashioned dip pens from a grandparent and childhood toys.

And no, that doesn’t include the brightly colored toys under the table, which are strictly modern and belong to a certain small individual who hasn’t been in this world much more than a year.

Here’s a photo of the Kinsinger siblings. That’s Homer, the oldest, at the front, then Toby, Eli, Rhoda, and Ivan, in order of age.

Below is the main scene of the auction. Because rain was in the forecast, household items were loaded onto trailers and wagons and pulled into our machine shed one at a time the day of the auction (the machinery wasn’t part of the sale). I think this looks like a ‘Where’s Waldo” scene! Good thing we did it this way, because rain fell in buckets the first part of the day.

Miriam and Naomi, cousins to the Kinsinger siblings, acted as secretaries.

The men, whoever felt like giving it a go, took turns auctioneering. That made for some interesting moments, especially when Enos tried his mouth at auctioning in Pennsylvania Dutch! In this photo, I love how young Zackary has mastered the posture of the adult males.

Of course, the children had lots of fun, whether making a bicycle train…

…eating lunch…

…or watching proceedings.

I love the bright-eyed babies. This is either Quinn or Kate, one of twins, with her mama. The twins are NOT identical, but to my shame, I still don’t know which is which. I do know they’re awfully cute, though.

This is Janelle, only six months younger than Annalise. Quinn, Kate, and Janelle all live locally, and I am beyond happy that Annalise has fun little cousins to grow up with.

Speaking of which, here is a photo of the Kinsinger great-grandchildren, Annalise’s first-and-a-half cousins. And no, Annalise is not in this group.

She is with the Kinsinger grandchildren, her first cousins, in this photo. Looks like she made the wrong photo, doesn’t it? When your daddy is ten years younger than his next-to-youngest sibling, and he doesn’t get married till he’s in his forties, fun things happen. You earn the special spot reserved for tag-alongs.

In the evening after the auction was finished, I stood on a rusted something-or-other half buried in the grass, with Louise, my niece by marriage who is just my age (she is holding Annalise in the photo above) and looked at the clouds billow across the field below our barn, the evening light gilding the sky. Funny how when I moved here to Oakland it felt like home, I told her.

Probably this will always feel like the greatest miracle of my life, that God sent a lover from the middle of nowhere and dropped me down into the hills of Oakland. Life here has had its adjustments, but it fits me somehow, like shrugging into a familiar sweater. I remember looking at some geese by a pond soon after our marriage and thinking, You know, I can imagine looking at this with my children and grandchildren and calling it home. It’s one of those places–like Rusk County, where I grew up–that soak deep into a person and linger forever.

Not that Rusk County was the same exactly. It had a scrappier nature–flatter and colder and more isolated. But that’s a story from an earlier time and another place in my life (Read Anything But Simple if you haven’t.)

God put me in Oakland in the Kinsinger family, and I’m glad to be here.

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