Skip to main content

me and my lazy son. so much alike?

 
here's me in 1977.  notice how i'm rockin' the steelers 'boggan and thinking about doing some sewing. 


now here's quin last month.  notice he's not sitting on a 1970's couch surrounded by an army of afghans.  he's also not getting ready to be industrious with a thread and needle.  you can see a cultural shift right there.  back when i was one, i was already hard at work.  i had to.  times were tough.  not like today, when kids just lie around in piles of soft plush animals, without a care in the world.  just look at him.  all barefooted and pants-less.  i guess you can dress that way when you've got nothing to do but lie around and watch reruns of baby einstein's greatest hits of the baroque era.  but what's that say about our world today?  i mean, look at me up there.  i had obviously just come in the house after being out in the cold, chopping wood or shoveling the walk, or something like that.  not a stuffed animal in sight.  just some afghans that i had woven or sewn or needlepointed or afghaned, or whatever one does to create an afghan. 


and here we are side by side.  see what i mean?  we are nothing alike.  couldn't be more opposite.  oh sure, there might be a slight resemblance, but hmmm...now that i look at it, we do sort of look alike.  in fact, if i look at the shape of the eyes, it's almost hard to tell...wait...which one is me again? 
 
what do you think?  do we look alike?
should i teach quin how to chop firewood?
do people still make afghans?
why would i child be holding a packet of patterns and not an open bag of pretzels?
 
answer these questions and more by leaving a comment....

Comments

Cmilinovich said…
First off, you look exactly alike. Second, you were not sewing; you were looking at the pictures on the front of my patterns trying to figure out how to cut them out and make collages with them on the end of your crib. That was not a 1970s sofa. It was a hand-me-down sofa and was from the 1950s! Anyway, I never made you chop wood; you just had to carry it in the house and stack it!

Seriously, quin really does look like you. You're both cute to me. I loved that yellow outfit.
monica said…
awesome! are you sure he isnt a clone?
Emoly said…
I am so making you an afghan.

Yes. You look exactly alike. No chance this is anyone else's kid but yours!

If you make him chop wood he has to wear suspenders and a flannel shirt. I think it's the law.

Popular posts from this blog

#thoughtsandprayers

i made these comments and prayed the following prayer at one of our worship services at SPWF yesterday, and had a few folks asked if i would post them, so there they are: 
It has been a season of terrible tragedy.  And I have noticed in the news a trending phrase: thoughts and prayers.  It even has its own hashtag on twitter and other social media, but net necessarily in a good way.  People are understandably tired of hearing about others’ thoughts and prayers, when that is only a thinly-veiled way of saying that our only obligation to those who suffer is a brief moment of silence, or nothing more than a tweet or public statement.  The truth is that, for those of us who follow Jesus, much is required when our neighbors suffer.  We are called to do justice where we can, to love kindness and mercy, and to walk with God through it all.  But let us be careful not to throw out the proverbial baby with the bathwater.  We are, as people of faith, those who know that prayer is not simply an em…

a divided tree

there is a tree in my back yard.  i'm pretty sure it's an oak tree.  at least that's what i think Shannon told me.  i don't know my oaks from my maples, my elms from my locusts.  to me, it's a tree: a corinthian column bursting up into life and glory.  full of sap and pulp and rings and bugs and cells pulsing with water and always reaching for something.  it is full of rhythm, reach and flourish then fall and die, and repeat. 

this particular tree, though, isn't of one mind. 

half of it's rusted orange leaves have given up their grip and surrendered -gracefully or not - to the pull of gravity and the threat of winter.  the north side of this inauspicious oak is just about bare naked, all sticks and straight lines, a skeleton of itself.  but the side that looks south is stubbornly resisting change.  no longer green, the leaves have compromised their summer vibrancy, but they are clearly not ready to concede death just yet. 

i feel like i can relate to this …

thankful right now

"if the only prayer you ever say in your life is 'thank you,' it will be enough." -Meister Eckhart

"thanksgiving is inseparable from prayer." -John Wesley

i've been thinking about gratitude quite a bit this week, and how to foster a thankful spirit in the midst of the barrage of bad news that for me is punctuated by yet another "breaking news" notification on my phone, interrupting the busyness of my day to rudely remind me that the world's brokenness knows nothing of limits or boundaries, not to mention my schedule or sanity.  still, the bad news keeps coming. 

i just scrolled through my most recent notifications just from the last few days and they contain phrases like "crimes against humanity," "57 million users hacked, but not reported," "alleged pattern of sexual abuse," and "extremely disturbing," just to name a few.  how am i supposed to be present at a staff meeting when my phone is buzzing …