louissa sinclair

the house is quiet.  quiet besides the soft drone of the ever-going washer and dryer tucked away in the corner.  it’s just me.  me and this large place that is usually all bustle and noise.  you’ve probably never been here all by your lonesome self — and i can’t tell you the last time that i experienced it.

i love it and i feel lost all at the same time.  i fold some clothes.  play a few worship songs.  change the loads in the washer/dryer and put new one in.  sew button onto favorite black & white coat.  fold some more clothes.  plug rechargeable camera batteries in.  plug cell phone in.  look at how long the drive is from madrid, ny to atlantic city, nj.  fold some more clothes.

i go away for the weekend tomorrow.  i pack up my parents minivan with a few bags, guitar, and mandolin and leave with a sister.  we’re being put up in a hotel, being given the option of a different car to drive once in the city (maybe we’ll take ‘em up on the offer if it’s a sweet ride), and i’ll be her roadie (maybe?  gotta come up with some reason for why i’m also present.) while she goes to a ritzy Christmas party and entertains with melodies about snow, mangers, starry nights, rudolph and red noses, and all those jolly things.

sounds like fun, right?  it’s the benefit of having an almost-kinda-famous sister.  i get to getaway and pretend that i’m rich for a weekend.  i have no qualms about playing rich — i even considered coming up with some fantastic story for myself since i’ll be mingling with interesting people.  after all, will they even understand what a church administrator is?

no.  probably not.  most people who go to evangelical churches don’t understand.

i’m a dreadful liar so it would never work though.  and i’m actually a horrid “play rich” sort of person.  just ask my sister who i went to a spa with.  i’m sure the whole five hours of sitting in a sauna, steam room, and getting a swedish massage and facial, i looked like a complete imbecile who didn’t know what she was doing.

anyway.  this is all nonsense and not really about anything, which can be the most boring post to read.  i’m sure it’s been caused by the fact that there is no one around and i’m used to having someone around to talk to — even if just a lot of small children.

so i guess i’ll go.  there are always more clothes to be folded.

my blog, which used to be my world, has become incredibly lame in it’s silence.  this blog, which used to be the main thoroughfare in the upstate new york blog world, now shows the remnants of something that was once thriving and is now slowly dying.  it reminds me of ogdensburg or massena and all it’s buildings which now sit vacant.

actually, it reminds me of that restaurant in potsdam that sits on the river across from a gas station (lovely choice in location) and has changed its name a bazillion times in the last five years.  it’s constantly switching owners because no one seems to be able to make a restaurant of any sort thrive there.  if i was twelve or superstitious i’d say that there was a curse on the building or it was haunted or something exciting like that.

but i’m not.

scratch that.  this blog doesn’t remind me of that.  it’s neither switching names or owners and you’d have to try hard to conivince me that it’s cursed or haunted.  that’s much too nancy drew-ish for me to believe.

i can only account the silence to busyness or to so much happening in my life that i don’t know where to begin or not enough time to think or not doing any thinking at all or a free computer being hard to find (grow up and buy one, louissa) or to so many things.  i’m bad at disciplines and writing is one of them.  but i’m going to try.  even if it’s a boring entry, it’s good for me.

so here i go.

it’s a winter wonderland or a marshmallow world as my twenty darling students sang a week ago.  i make myself feel oh-so-very-old when i say things like “my students.”  i wore a jumper as my class performed in their annual Christmas program.  a plaid knee-length jumper.  i felt more like a school girl than a teacher.

i talk about the snow a lot.  the snow and i — we’ve got a love/hate relationship.  i’m working on this loving winter thing.

i’ve got a sister who gets married in a few weeks.  another brother added to the family.  another sister moving.  i’m glad she’s not moving far.  just to the next town over.  she’ll have a cute little apartment and will make it a home for her and her husband.  husband.  that’s weird.  she’s going to be a wife and have a husband.

i sat in a little grey car the other night.  we dropped a girl off and he turned and asked me a question.  i instantly started crying while saying, “oh, it’s nothing.”  right.  nothing.  that’s why i was sitting there crying.  he’s never made me cry, but he’s probably experienced conversations with me in tears more than anyone other than my sisters.  he’s a good add-on brother.  those are the kind you want your sisters to marry.  it’s just strange when you feel like a ride home has turned into a counseling session.  i guess i make it kind of easy for him since he always says, “since you’re pretty similar to a certain sister of yours…”  he always knows what i’m thinking and what i’m supposed to do — he’s dealt with the same things in that certain sister of mine for the last seven years.

i sat and listened to a “christmas message” like i do every December in every religious event you might go to.  but this one was different.  i walked away and found myself thinking, “it really is about Jesus, isn’t it.”  i know — major revelation.  but i was encouraged to be like the wisemen — to be foolish with my adoration and worship.

i’m going to a friend’s dance recital tonight.  i like sequins and girly things and i like dance.  it should be fun.  after that i’m to go to a housewarming party.  apparently there’s going to be a bonfire.  has anyone notified these party planners that there’s a foot of snow outside and sitting around a campfire isn’t quite so appealing then?

i love complaining.  i don’t actually mind the bonfire in the snow.  i just like complaining.  i guess i should change that.

i ended work early today.  so i came home early.  and it has been lovely.

and life continues…

it’s december.  it doesn’t feel like december, but it is.  i don’t feel jolly or feel much like going a’wassailing.  the house is decked for the holiday although there are cornstalks still on our front porch.  the traditional rum logs have been made once already and we had a christmas movie girls night… but i just don’t feel much in the season.  how does that happen?  i’m not too sure i like this growing up business.

i have a baby sitting on my lap.  she makes her noises and plays with star wars action figures.  she “talks.”  she’s loud.  incredibly loud.  she has red hair.  i guess the two go together.

“that’s my favorite game!” i exclaimed as he asked what we’re thankful for today.  usually i’m the one asking, not having to sit and think about the specific blessings that i’ve been given, but it’s good to do.  and today?  what am i thankful for today?  i’m thankful the wonderfulness i work with.  really, i’ve got the best.  working with a best friend, a favorite person, and someone you get along with so well — who could ask for more?

there are six babies under the age of five in the house right now.  and i love it.  i love these babes — these little blessings.  even with the spankings and the crying and the smelly diapers and the vomiting and the bloody noses.  there are the snuggles and the giggles and the playing and the holding and everything wonderful.  i like it.  a lot.

i’m going to see my sister play tonight.  and my brother.  and two friends.  i’ll pay $3 and sit in the world’s most ghetto bar and enjoy every minute of it.

and that’s it.  a rather lame post, i know.  when i have time… it’ll come.

it’s quiet in this house.  the rarity of that makes it all the more priceless when it happens.  candles are lit and many curl up on a couch, chairs, with blankets while watching Kung Fu Panda.

cranberry bread is made, sweet potatoes have been prepared, two apple pies sit on the buffet, and two pumpkin pies are in the making.  the beginnings of Thanksgiving Day at my simple yet wonderful house are the best.

i ate sushi tonight and watched while it was prepared at my kitchen table.  there are five korean girls staying at my house tonight and spending this wonderful american holiday with us.  whenever we’ve spent Thanksgiving under the red roof there has always been extras at our table.  i’m really thankful that i grew up like this — always sharing, always opening up our door to others, always ready to set another plate at the table.  that.  i like that.

i’m thankful for many things.  one of them?  a friend who encourages me to continue trusting, having faith, and encourages me to be the woman that i’m supposed to be.  and the best part?  that friend will be a brother-in-law in one month.

oh.  and i’m thankful for the most talented sister ever.

the Julia Marie Band is awesome.  vote for her to win.  vote every single day.

there are a few things that i just don’t understand…

1.  why people who are trying to be musicians think it’s cool to loosen the strap of their guitar or bass so much that the body of the instrument lays against their knees.  do you know how uncool you look trying to strum chords/pluck notes when your fingers have a hard time reaching the strings?  maybe i shouldn’t say anything — after all, i’m just a pianist and saxophonist (okay. i’m not actually a “saxophonist” since i rather rot at that, but i can toot enough notes out to play in our churches holiday orchestra every christmas) and probably don’t know anything about this.

but i can’t get around the fact that i know how ridiculous it looks and that i’ve been told by those in my family (who are guitarist and bassist) that it’s dreadful technique.  so do me a favor and tighten your strap.

2.  why it takes frozen apples so long to thaw.  what started out as a “oh, all i have to do is make the apple pie filling and pop them in the oven” has turned into “oh, all i have to do is wait until Jesus comes for my apples to thaw, not get any sleep tonight, and at that point when dead people start rising from graves and trumpets start making such a racket we won’t care about the apple pies for thanksgiving and my staying up all night will be pointless.”

please, just thaw!

3.  why cookies never taste as good when you make them.  i didn’t even eat hardly any dough this time.  but there they sit, i’ve eaten half a cookie, and am not very interested in finishing it.  and i thought i was in the mood for cookies.

and for that matter, why getting into bed never feels as good when you make it or toast is never buttered quite right when you butter it, and a movie is never as much fun to watch when you pick out which film to view.

4.  why my phone is silent when i want it to be busy and busy when i want it to be silent.

5.  and why football has become a staple part of a holiday that’s all about thankfulness.  it’s fun — i enjoy it, but i have always had a hard time seeing the connection.  and it must be much harder to practice thankfulness when your team has just lost, right?

or why we stuff ourselves.  i’m never thankful for the food after committing my once a year sin of gluttony.  i moan and groan about having to move and clear dishes from a table after putting more food into my stomach than one does at the flap-jack-attack at our local diner.

and i’m sure there is more, but i’ll try to finish my pies now.

the first sentence is always the hardest. there are so many things i could write about — so many things i want to tell you — but i get stuck considering which subject to choose and the endless possibilities for a starter.

and i still don’t know…

i could tell you about how i thought i broke the commercial dishwasher at church yesterday. but it wasn’t actually broken (it would have made such an exciting story if it was) and is still in great working condition. my life is so boring.

or

i could tell you about how this morning as i sat at my desk, i spilled hot chocolate on my lap while one was asking her a question and another was asking me a question and a pastor was wondering about membership files and applications and my phone was beeping from texts and a boy just wanted to know how my day was going and i was quite confused as to who to answer, when to clean myself up, how to appease them all, and then a minute later, like a snap of your fingers, they were all gone. and i wasn’t so confused anymore. i cleaned my jeans and then looked through an excel file to answer questions and then sent a text and it was all good.

or

i could tell you that every morning at 7:30 two of my sisters, my mumsie, and i all gather in our family room and pop in a dvd of some psychotic workout instructor and “copy the tv”, as bronwyn calls it. we look like crazy women — especially since two of the four wear pajamas with sneakers and it looks like i’m going for the “stuck my hand in an electric socket” hairdo (the joys of rolling out of bed to workout at home) and this woman has us doing these exercises that do work (we sweat and our sore after), but they’re strange. really, really strange.

and i could tell you that i’ve slept through our workout time the last two mornings. i know — the world’s biggest slacker. i’m.much.too.tired.

or

i could tell you that someone commented on how happy i still am, a week later after beginning a relationship. it didn’t dawn on me that i shouldn’t still be — isn’t that normal? i’m not naive — i realize the novelty will wear off at some point, but shouldn’t there always be excitement, joy, a sense of wonderfulness? perhaps i’m too much of an idealist. and perhaps i am naive.

or

i could tell you that after comments about my saggy bottom jeans, the pants that are always creeping down, the skirt that just looks sloppy, and the frustration of wearing shirts down to my knees but still not having them be long enough, i’ve decided that something has got to be done. being afeared everytime one bends over is just trying on ones nerves. so i must buckle down and purchase some pants that fit me or go on a diet of donuts, box macaroni & cheese, cookies, cake, ice cream, hot chocolate, and coffee. hmm… i’m thinking the food sounds good.

or

i could tell you that Jesus is good. so good. i could tell you that this martyr complex victim struggles to grasp that He really would give her good things… things that she wanted, but it’s true. He’s not someone who asks that you sacrifice all and only gives what you always dreaded. He asks that we sacrifice all, that our focus be on Him, that we delight in Him, His ways, His will, but then we’re blessed. because He loves us. oh so much. the Cross would have been enough for me to decide to hand myself over to Him, but His love and blessing extend beyond the act of His Son dying for me.

that is amazing.

there are some things in life that are just too wonderful.  and i’m so very thankful for them.

i loved to pretend as a young girl.  but who doesn’t?  every girl wants to be a princess, wants to be a ballerina, wants to be the orphan annie, wants to be a girl out in the prairie, right?  the hours spent going through our box of dress-up to find different clothes just so i could pretend i was someone that i wanted to be in my young girl dreams… they were lovely.

and what’s more lovely?  when i come home from work to see my niece wearing a ballerina dress i wore once upon a time as well.

my beautiful dancer girl.

a face that is too loveable.

and cheeks that are too kissable.

these are some of the things i’m thankful for.

we baked and talked and cooked and talked and gathered and talked and baked more and talked and chopped up apples and talked and put together piles of things needing to go with us and talked and packed up cars and talked and forgot the couscous and talked and called home to get forgotten couscous and talked and set tables and talked and arranged rooms and talked and made beautiful a house and talked and celebrated the coming wedding of the third daughter of this family while talking more.

(my family talks no matter what they’re doing)

another sister is getting married.  and it became real today when i stood in front of over forty women/ladies/girls/females/whatever age category you’d title yourself under and welcomed them to a bridal shower for her.  she then proceeded to open up all those house necessities and i couldn’t quite grasp the idea that she’ll be making herself a home elsewhere in a little over a month.

weird.

change is abounding in my life right now.  and i’m madly trying to keep up with it.

some people hate it.  some people love it.  i don’t mind.  and since this is my blog and this is high on my list of thankfulness, i figured i’d just go for it.

i’m thankful for a someone today… and yesterday… and probably tomorrow.  yes, that’s right folks, louissa’s done gone grown up on you and has herself a special someone.  i’m thankful.

thankful for him:

my best bud as of last night.

last week i finally bought sneakers. and i finally kept the pair that i purchased. after having much trouble sneaker shopping i decided the only way i was going to actually do this thing was if i humbly asked for help from those who are more experienced in such areas. i did so and i successfully purchased a pair of sneakers.

i know. so not sinclair. and you might be thinking that they’re pretty darn ugly as well.

BUT

after keeping them in their box for a week and glancing at them every now and then, unable to actually admit to the fact that i bought sneakers that might not look like what i usually wear but are good, i finally took them out and wore them today. and they’re so comfortable! after years of disdain for all those “everyday sneaker wearers” i suddenly understand why they do such things. they feel good! they’re light — i don’t feel like i have shoes on! they have good support!

and i make these dorky shoes look good. heck yes, that’s right.

and i’m thankful for that.