Yes, Carla. Yes it was. You are pretty great. Congratulations on your victory.
No, no, no, your ridicule is quite powerful. I appreciate it, actually.
— Scott, to Carla
Scott: Oh, Carla, you don’t get cranky.
Carla: No, but I do get honest.
**Donna: ** Sullivan’s mom would volunteer [in the library] for a Tuesday, but would need to bring Sullivan’s sister. Is that okay?
Mardi: Yep! If she’s anything like Sullivan, she could probably help out too!
Donna: We are a go!
He’s such a dick! No offense, Scott.
— Carla, c. 2005, while watching The Last of the Mohicans, presumably referring to Magua
Scott [after Carla suffers a seemingly neverending sneeze attack]: What is your body trying to get rid of?
Carla [sniffling]: My face.
I’ll note three things today:
- Carla got a conclusive answer about her allergies today from the allergist: She is allergic to dust mites. Hearing this relieved and excited me, because we finally now have a definite problem with definite solutions. I am eager to help her feel better.
- Carla reminded me this evening that I can set boundaries and say no to the kids. I was expressing consternation that it was so difficult to concentrate on something I wanted to accomplish, like (this evening) finding a way to sing those B♭s in “Valjean’s Soliloquy,” while in the presence of the kids because they—especially Sullivan—would interrupt with chatter or questions or requests. She made it very simple and was in fact surprised that I was not setting boundaries. Thanks, Carla.
- Reading about Jairus’ daughter this evening in The Jesus Storybook Bible found me asking inwardly, “Is this stuff going to hold up for her against 21st-century naturalistic bias? It seems like it’s ripe for scoffing and skepticism. Actually, I almost feel silly believing that this stuff actually happened. Is Jesus necessary?” Father, may it hold.
Éa is a likable sick person. And Carla is an excellent nurse.
I enjoy watching my family do things I suspect other families do not but which I consider healthy. In this photo, all three of them are leaning out or about to lean out past the boardwalk rail in searching of jewelweed pods ready to pop.
It turns out the seeds are edible!
I took an impromptu break from work late morning today to cuddle with Carla and tell her about the occasional pit in my stomach I’ve been feeling when ruminating on my doubts and when approaching the kids, or really about being wrong about anything. It was reassuring just to talk with her about it, to relate my fears and doubts to someone, and to hear in myself a commitment to endure in Christ-ward faith.
Romance has been this sort of…odd side project for us.
— Scott, in a large campfire discussion at his tenth wedding anniversary party of how friendship is the basis of his and Carla’s relationship
I bought Carla some flowers today. Consider it an improvement on the one cut rose per year we’ve been married.
Scott: What would life be like without screens?
Carla: Buggy.
[pause]
Scott [slightly annoyed]: Could you just answer the question, please?
[pause]
Carla [gathering what he meant]: Well, we know what life would be like without screens. We didn’t have screens the first year of our marriage.
Scott: What did we DO?
Carla: We fought.
Scott [discussing trends in interior design] : Our culture…we highly prize…clean.
Carla: Yeah…it’s disgusting.
Carla: He looks like the beggar at the Beautiful Gate.
Éa: Who?
Scott: One of the people Jesus healed. One of many.
Éa: Killed?
Scott: HEALED.
Carla: And THAT. is why I don’t want our children to read Bible stories yet.
“this morning is prime to send you a rhyme which speaks to your heart to say yours, I’m.”
— Carla, in one of two verses she emailed me this morning
The most significant thing to happen to me today was that (at my insistence — the only sign of real kick I’ve put into Carla’s campaign in recent weeks) we did our last day of canvassing for Carla’s campaign for College Township Council. It happened to be at a time when the Nittany Lions and the Illini were tied, 17-17, at the end of the Penn State football game. So we didn’t knock; we just left flyers in doors. And we got to meet the triceratops that lives at Michelle’s house behind the Peters’ house.
Carla: Oh my God, living with you is like living in a legal document!
Scott: Oh my god, living with you is like living in oatmeal!
Éa [from the other end of the house]: Mama! Watch this!
Carla: Honey, I’m cooking!
Éa: Mama watch this!
Carla: I can’t! I’m cooking right now!
Éa: Mama! Watch this! I can jump from the TOP!
Carla [walking quickly to the other end of the house]: Okay! You’ve got my interest!
Carla: It’s 7:57.
Scott: What!? Already?
Carla: I know. Like, what the fUuuuuuUuuck? [moment of silence] Sometimes I say that just to assert my adulthood.
If I were married to myself, I’d be divorced.
— Carla
Carla: I’ve gotta get in shape for the wedding.
Scott: Whoa. Weird. Normal woman-talk just came out of my wife’s mouth.
Don’t forget to felt your scroll saw.
— Carla, pretending to be Scott prompting her to keep up with making a Christmas present
Carla [from the other room]: OK, it’s decided.
Scott: What’s that?
Carla: I don’t know.
“Man, it was dry in there.”
— Carla, on the The National Aquarium