Category: From the Vault

  • Pencil in the Hand

    Pencil in the Hand

    The Mom Weekly Volume 109: September 9, 2025

    You can read this, or any other previous Mom Weeklies, by going to the home page here.

    Notes:

    This weekly is based on yet another song. I thought for a minute: Hey! I have been sharing a lot of songs in recent months. If you are concerned that The Mom Weekly is turning into a song sharing platform, fear not. I have plenty of things to say! 

    But it’s not he worst thing to share (or overshare) some of the great songs and quotes that give me joy, comfort, and delight. Often, others can say things in song that we find hard to articulate ourselves.

    Remember how much I love you,

    Mom

    Pencil in the Hand 

    Last Friday was the feast day of Mother Teresa of Calcutta.

    At the daily Mass I happened to go to on Friday, the priest (Fr. W!) spoke about St. Teresa and read some of her quotes. He read the one about Mother Teresa saying she was a “pencil in the hand” of God.

    And you may not be surprised to hear that I immediately thought of … the Popple song! (Which, yes, was based on the Mother Teresa quote from this interview).

    I am pretty sure that I can sing parts of any number of Popple songs from memory, including “Middle School Love Song,” “Puppy Dog,” “We’re Getting Loud,” and, of course, “Pencil in the Hand.”

    Popple broke up a long time ago (amicably, I believe, as the two young men were starting families and on to other projects). But thanks to the wonder of Spotify, you, too, can go down memory lane and listen to some of these delightful songs again.

    Listening to this self- described “Catholic acoustic humor folk beard rock duo” reminded me of a story I’ve told many times, about re-listening to some of my college favorites decades after college, and thinking, gosh, some of these songs are really depressing! So I don’t listen to some of them anymore. And that’s one reason that I truly enjoy praise and worship music (like “The Blessing”). Everyone is different in the things that they like and things that give them enjoyment. Popple is one of mine.

    I’m going to print the words to the song as a quote below, but I will also embed the video, because it’s just a few minutes long and really worth a listen!

    I’m a pencil in the hand of a writing God

    Writing love to all the world.

    I’m a pencil in the hand of a writing God

    Writing love to all the world.

    ++++++

    Oh, you put me on your canvas.

    Oh, you draw me round in circles.

    Oh, I spread across the landscape.

    And what is beautiful, it’s all because of you.

    +++++

    I’m a pencil in the hand of a writing God

    Writing love to all of the world.

    +++++

    Oh, all I can do is scribble.

    Oh, but you can make it wonderful.

    Oh, I could never do good things

    Oh, but in your hands, perfect is what I am.

    +++++

    You give me free will

    To do what I want to do.

    You give me free will…

    +++++

    I’m a pencil in the hand of a writing God

    Writing love to all the world.

    I’m a pencil in the hand of a writing God

    Writing love to all the world.

    Interesting/Notable:

    Unusual suspects: Meet Frassati’s ‘Wise Guys’–The Pillar

    From the subhead: A small Adriatic town is home to one of the most dynamic communal experiences in Italian Catholicism, inspired by the soon-to-be saint Pier Giorgio Frassati.

    I love that the group is named after the name Frassati gave to his group of friends—wise guys, usual subjects.

    This one is fun to share since Pier Giorgio is now St. Pier Giorgio, after the canonization on Sunday. I look forward to hearing all about the canonization! (We were able to watch an English-language translation later that day here, but we can’t wait to hear about what it was like in person.)

  • “You Love Each Other So Much!”

    “You Love Each Other So Much!”

    The Mom Weekly Volume 107: August 26, 2025

    You can read this, or any other previous Mom Weeklies, by going to the home page here.

    “You Love Each Other So Much!”

    I don’t know why this cracked me up so much, but at the wedding, someone—not a relative or close friend—exclaimed in a positive way to just me after seeing Dad & I talk about something, “You two just love each other so much!”

    It was a little bit of a “Meet Your Parents, George and Martha Washington” moment, but honestly? I almost laughed in the person’s face.

    We love each other so much? We love each other so much? (Exasperated voice here).

    I guess we love each other so much, if you count getting on each other’s last nerve about 100 times in the past week of last-minute wedding things as “loving each other.” LOL.

    I’m laughing as I write this, and maybe also a little sheepish, to admit that Dad and I are not starry-eyed with each other all the time. We annoy each other! We get into goofy disagreements about things! We often have the same disagreements over and over again! It can be exhausting.

    But this is to say that, yes, Dad & I do love each other so much. We choose to love each other, even when we don’t get along perfectly, and even when we annoy each other. We mostly get along, and we do have fun together, and we’ve gotten better about talking to each other over the decades.

    When I told Dad the story of the person saying, “You two love each other so much!” I almost couldn’t stop laughing. And so now we have this as a little joke—“We love each other so much, haha.” (Well, it’s funny to us, or maybe just me, but Dad is humoring me).

    I hope you can recognize from this: getting annoyed with each other (or getting on someone’s last nerve) is a feature, not a bug, of relationships. That’s not to say that every relationship is healthy in that way. But for people of good will, it happens, and can be worked through, sometimes with outside help. You can still love each other even when you’re not in perfect harmony about one or even many things.

    Remember how much I love you! (Cue laughing),

    Mom

    Interesting/Notable

    The Guy in the Pope’s Jacket—The Pillar

    Such a sweet read! Be sure to get to the end of this one.

  • The Blessing

    The Blessing

    The Mom Weekly Volume 106: August 19, 2025

    You can read this, or any other previous Mom Weeklies, by going to the home page here.

    Notes: 

    Even though this was scheduled—because I knew I will be tired (and probably still a little emotional) on this particular Tuesday!–I opened up this again to comment a few things.

    What a wonderful family time! I am just in awe of how much fun it is to get together and see family members and friends in person. I am so grateful to have so many relatives and friends that want to share in our joy.

    This particular Mom Weekly is based on the very brief (under 2.5 minutes) remarks that I gave at the rehearsal dinner. I was pretty sure that I might not get through it without crying, but other than a few brief pauses, I got through every word!

    Remember how much I love all of you,

    Mom

    The Blessing

    When I was beginning to look at songs to consider for the mother-son dance at the wedding, I queued up a couple of songs on Spotify. As I drove to and from a haircut, I promptly started crying. Happy tears of course, but there are a lot of emotions that go along with transitions like this . . .  

    A memory came back to me of driving to Matthiessen State Park for hiking with my youngest during his spring break—this was the first spring of the pandemic. 

    It happened to be just the two of us, and he was driving. As a result, I was able to play various songs on Spotify. I recall that I played the worship song The Blessing by Kari Jobe, a relatively new song at the time, probably about 50 times. That is an exaggeration, but not by much! I was slightly obsessed with that song.

    Once I played it in recent weeks, I realized that it wouldn’t work as a dance song for a lot of reasons. It ranges from 7-9 minutes long, depending on the version, making it even more unsuitable as a mother-son dance song. And yet, it’s a wonderful song!

    So I would like to encourage all of you to listen. Even 50 times!

    We all want to bless Clara and Joseph this weekend with our presence, and with God’s presence, and we want to bless all of our extended families and friends who are here with us, and those who cannot be here with us.

    It’s based on Numbers 6:24-26. It is known at the “Priestly Blessing.” I’m going to embed the song in this post, but also the words. I’ve shortened it down a little, because the song repeats the stanzas multiple times, and I will just put them once.

    The Lord bless you and keep you

    Make His face shine upon you and be gracious to you

    The Lord turn His face toward you

    And give you peace

    Amen, amen, amen

    May His favor be upon you

    And a thousand generations

    And your family and your children

    And their children, and their children

    May His presence go before you

    And behind you, and beside you

    All around you, and within you

    He is with you, he is with you

    In the morning, in the evening

    In your coming, and your going

    In your weeping, and rejoicing

    He is for you, he is for you

    He is, He is

    Amen, amen, amen

    Here is a version of the song (8 minutes!) live in Bath, England last year, sung in different languages.
  • First Lines, American Children’s Literature Edition

    First Lines, American Children’s Literature Edition

    The Mom Weekly, Volume 103: July 29, 2025

    You can read this, or any other previous Mom Weeklies, by going to the home page here.

    Notes:

    This week, with 30 “American Children’s Literature” selections, brings us to 75 of the 100 First Lines for 100 Volumes. I keep finding more and more books to add to this, and I confess I’m having a lot of fun!

    Remember how much I love you (and children’s literature!),

    Mom

    First Lines, American Children’s Literature Edition

    When this story begins, Elizabeth Ann, who is the heroine of it, was a little girl of nine, who lived with her Great-Aunt Harriet in a medium-size State in the middle of this country; and that’s all you need to know about the place, for it’s not the important thing in the story; and anyhow you know all about it because it was probably very much like the place you live in yourself.”

    —Dorothy Canfield Fisher, Understood Betsy 

    “Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents,” grumbled Jo, lying on the rug.

    — Louisa May Alcott, Little Women

    “Where’s Papa going with that ax?” Said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast.

    — E.B. White, Charlotte’s Web

    When Mrs. Frederick C. Little’s second son arrived, everybody noticed that he was not much bigger than a mouse.

    — EB White, Stuart Little

    “Well, thank goodness there aren’t going to be any more children here anyway!” said Randy crossly. She spoke crossly because she was sad and she preferred sounding cross to. Sounding sorrowful, even though there was no one in the room except herself.

    —Elizabeth Enright, The Four-Story Mistake

    About two miles outside of Centerburg where route 56 meets route 56A there lives a boy named Homer.

    — Robert McCloskey, Homer Price

    In every town there is a best place to do everything.

    —Robert McCloskey, Centerburg Tales

    Mr. Maxwell looked at the long checklist, and then looked at the calendar, and then he shook his head.

    —Andrew Clements, A Week in the Woods

    When Portia Blake and her brother Foster set out for Creston that summer, it was different from all the other summers.

    —Elizabeth Enright, Gone-Away Lake

    Walking back to camp through the swamp, Sam wondered whether to tell his father what he had seen.

    —E.B. White, The Trumpet of the Swan

    It began one day in summer about thirty years ago, and it happened to four children.

    —Edward Eager, Half Magic

    Susan had a beautiful new notebook open before her. On the cover she had printed in red ink:

    PRIVATE DIARY—Susan Ridgeway

    Everyone else keep out!!!

    — Carol Ryrie Brink, Family Sabbatical

    It was an afternoon in late September. In the pleasant little city of Stillwater, Mr. Popper, the house painter, was going home from work.

    — Richard and Florence Atwater, Mr. Popper’s Penguins

    Would Gracie-the-cat be jealous if the Pyes got another pet—a dog?

    —Eleanor Estes, Ginger Pye

    Alvin Fernald had a warm, tingly feeling smack in the middle of his stomach.

    —Clifford B. Hicks, Alvin’s Secret Code

    On the night of September twentieth the S.S. Orminta , two weeks outward bound from San Francisco to Australia, was struck by a storm and badly disabled.

    — Carol Ryrie Brink, Baby Island

    “That slowpoke Sarah! Henny cried. “She’s making us late!”

    Mama’s girls were going to the library, and Henny was impatient.

    —Sydney Taylor, All-of-a-Kind Family

    It was difficult, later, to think of a time when Betsy and Tacy had not been friends.

    —Maud Hart Lovelace, Betsy-Tacy

    Betsy, Tacy, and Tib were nine years old, and they were very anxious to be ten. “You have two numbers in your age when you are ten. It’s the beginning of growing up,” Betsy would say.

    —Maud Hart Lovelace, Betsy and Tacy Go Over the Big Hill

    “It’s the last day of high school … ever,” Annette said.

    —Maud Hart Lovelace, Emily of Deep Valley

    Nancy Drew, an attractive girl of eighteen, was driving home along a country road in her new, dark-blue convertible. She had just delivered some legal papers for her father.

    — Carolyn Keene, The Secret of the Old Clock

    One warm night four children stood in front of a bakery. No one knew them. No one knew where they had come from.

    —Gertrude Chandler Warner, The Boxcar Children

    If you asked the kids and the teachers at Lincoln Elementary School to make three lists—all the really bad kids, all the really smart kids, and all the really good kids—Nick Allen would not be on any of them. Nick deserved a list all his own, and everyone knew it.

    —Andrew Clements, Frindle

    Miss Polly Harrington entered her kitchen a little hurriedly this June morning.

    — Eleanor Porter, Pollyanna

    For a long time after that summer, the four Penderwick sisters still talked of Arundel.

    —Jeanne Birdsall, The Penderwicks

    There was once a boy named Milo who didn’t know what to do with himself—not just sometimes, but always.

    —Norton Juster, The Phantom Tollbooth

    Morgarath, Lord of the Mountains of Rain and Night, former Baron of Gorlan in the Kingdom of Araluen, looked out over his bleak, rainswept domain and, for perhaps the thousandth time, cursed.

    —John Flanagan, The Ruins of Gorlan (Ranger’s Apprentice Book 1)

    Today, Monday, Wanda Petronski was not in her seat.

    —Eleanor Estes, The Hundred Dresses

    “It would have to rain today,” said Rush, lying flat on his back in front of the fire. “On a Saturday. Certainly, Of course. Naturally.”

    —Elizabeth Enright, The Saturdays

    I am on my mountain in a tree home that people have passed without ever knowing that I am here.

    —Jean Craighead George, My Side of the Mountain

    Interesting/Notable: The Quilters (Documentary)

    This short Netflix documentary—it’s just 33 minutes long — follows a group of men in a maximum security prison, who volunteer to make quilts for foster children. 

    I was concerned the content could be kind of heavy, but it was really well done, and poignant. No super-strong content here.

    It is very much worth a watch!

    r strong content here.

    It is very much worth a watch!

    An Action Item: Go to a Farmers Market

    This action item, like many others, is a reminder for me as much as anyone else.

    I haven’t been to any of the local farmers markets here this summer, and I need to remedy that, ASAP! Last year we got the yummiest light green squash that is apparently Lebanese, and this is about the time for it.

  • First Lines, Picture Book Edition

    First Lines, Picture Book Edition

    The Mom Weekly Volume 102: July 22, 2025

    You can read this, or any other previous Mom Weeklies, by going to the home page here.

    Notes:

    Here is another installment of 100 First Lines for Volume 100. I’ll try to finish all 100 in the next few weeks. This week is the “Picture Book Edition.” And there are 30 selections. I could have done many more! This brings us to 40 first lines out of 100!

    I hope this inspires some good memories of us reading these books together. Maybe you’ll even take some of them out of the library, or read them the next time you are home.

    Remember how much I love you,

    Mom

    (Funny aside: As I was formatting this, my editing software (ProWritingAid) tried to autocorrect /replace “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” with “The Starving Caterpillar” Obviously, I had to override it. LOL)

    First Lines, Picture Book Edition

    When I was young in the mountains, Grandfather came home in the evening covered with the black dust of a coal mine.

    —Cynthia Rylant, When I Was Young in the Mountains

    In the beginning, I was. I was for a long time. Then things began to happen.

    —Regina Doman, Angel in the Waters

    The night Max wore his wolf suit and made magic of one kind

    and another

    his mother called him “WILD THING!” And Max said, “I’LL EAT YOU UP!” and he was sent to bed without eating anything.

    —Maurice Sendak, Where the Wild Things Are

    Once there was a peddler who sold caps.

    —Esphyr Slobodkina, Caps for Sale

    Once there was a triangle that was—as most triangles are—always busy. 

    The triangle spent its time holding up roofs, supporting bridges, 

    making music in a symphony orchestra, 

    catching the wind for sailboats,

    being slices of pie and halves of sandwiches,

    and much, much, more.

    —Marilyn Burns, The Greedy Triangle

    On Monday, Farmer Greenstalk dropped his watch down the well.

    —John Himmelman, Chickens to the Rescue

    In the great green room

    There was a telephone

    And a red balloon

    And a picture of—

    The cow jumping over the moon

    —Margaret Wise Brown, Goodnight Moon

    Once there was a little bunny who wanted to run away.

    —Margaret Wise Brown, The Runaway Bunny

    Once upon a time, there was a yellow cat with black spots in his fur. His name was Pickles.

    —Esther Averill, Fire Cat

    In the light of the moon a little egg lay on a leaf.

    —Eric Carle, The Very Hungry Caterpillar

    A little boy planted a carrot seed.

    —Ruth Krauss, The Carrot Seed

    Pinkerton was pink, plump, and pushy.

    —Helen Lester, Me First

    One winter morning Peter woke up and looked out the window. Snow had fallen during the night.

    —Ezra Jack Keats, The Snowy Day

    Early in the morning the farmer feeds and milks his cows.

    —Jan Pfloog, The Farm Book

    Go to sleep, Max, said Max’s sister Ruby.

    —Rosemary Wells, Max’s Bedtime

    How are you Feeling?

    —Saxton Freymannn and Jooste Elffers, How Are You Peeling? Food with Moods

    Chug, chug, chug. Puff, puff, puff. Ding-dong, ding-dong. The little train rumbled over the tracks.

    —Watty Piper, The Little Engine that Could

    It was a pleasant summer morning, so Frances took her bat and her ball and some chocolate sandwich cookies and went outside.

    — Russell and Lillian Hoban, Best Friends for Frances

    It was a quiet evening. Father was reading his newspaper. Mother was feeding Gloria, the new baby. Frances was sitting under the kitchen sink.

    —Russell and Lillian Hoban, A Baby Sister for Frances

    The day Helen gave Martha dog her alphabet soup, something unusual happened.

    —Susan Meddaugh, Martha Speaks

    Once there was a miller’s daughter who got into a heap of trouble.

    —Diane Stanley, Rumplestiltskin’s Daughter

    Every year at springtime, Rebecca Estelle planted just enough seeds in her garden to grown vegetables for the long winter.

    —Linda White, Too Many Pumpkins

    The important thing about a spoon is that you eat with it.

    —Margaret Wise Brown, The Important Book

    Anna dreamed she was bird. But when she woke up, she wasn’t.

    —Kady MacDonald Denton, Would They Love a Lion?

    A mother bird sat on her egg.

    —P.D. Eastman, Are You My Mother?

    In an old house in Paris

    that was covered with vines

    Lived twelve little girls in two straight lines.

    —Ludwig Bemelmans, Madeline

    On the fifteenth of May, in the Jungle of Nool, In the heat of the day, in the cool of the pool, He was splashing … enjoying the jungles great joys … When Horton the elephant heard a small noise.

    —Dr. Seuss, Horton Hears a Who

    Mike Mulligan had a steam shovel, a beautiful red steam shovel. Her name was Mary Ann.

    —Virginia Lee Burton, Mike Mulligan and his Steam Shovel

    Now the Star-Belly Sneetches

    Had bellies with stars.

    The Plain-Belly Sneetches

    Had none upon thars.

    Dr. Seuss, The Sneetches

    Did I ever tell you that Mrs. McCave

    Had twenty-three sons and she named them all Dave?

    Dr. Seuss, Too Many Daves

    Interesting/Notable:

    What I Went Through to Meet My Daughter 

    Please read, or at least skim this article, to the end. It had me in tears, happy tears. Even though I subscribe to The Free Press, I hadn’t come across this article until Dr. Naomi Whitaker—a national treasure — shared it on Instagram (https://www.instagram.com/napro_fertility_surgeon/). 

    You may remember that I shared the PBS documentary “Below the Belt” nearly two years ago. As I wrote then:

    “(This) documentary is about endometriosis and how misunderstood it is, how little it is treated, and how that should change. One of my biggest takeaways was that people–especially women– need to be advocates for their own health, and to persist even when not getting answers.”

    I am so grateful for the work done by these careful and skilled surgeons to help women in this way, when others dismiss their symptoms and propose band-aid solutions that can often make these conditions like endometriosis worse. 

  • 100 First Lines for Volume 100

    100 First Lines for Volume 100

    The Mom Weekly Volume 100: July 8, 2025

    You can read this, or any other previous Mom Weeklies, by going to the home page here.

    100 First Lines for Volume 100

    You may have noticed that this week is Volume 100 of The Mom Weekly. There may be a few misnumbered ones in the early days, so there may be a few more (or less) than 100, but I am impressed with myself!

    In honor of 100 volumes of The Mom Weekly, I was trying to think about things to do. 100 pieces of advice? 100 recipes? 100 photos?

    And then I thought about something that is “on-brand” for me. How about first lines of 100 books that I love, or that our family loves? 

    At first I was unsure that I could come up with 100 first lines easily or quickly enough. While it did take a fair bit of time, it was a fun exercise and trip down memory lane. Our family has read and enjoyed a lot of great books!

    Unfortunately, 100 first lines would make “one” Mom Weekly far too long, so it will be broken up into groups of 10, shared over the next few months, off and on. This week features “Classic British Literature,” and so it will be Jane Austen-rich.

    Remember how much I love you,

    Mom 

    First Lines—A Sample of Classic British Literature

    not my bookshelves, but this photo was taken in England! (Oxford, 2015)

    It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. —Jane Austen, Pride & Prejudice

    Jane Austen, Pride & Prejudice

    Sir Walter Elliot, of Kellynch Hall, in Somersetshire, was a man who, for his own amusement, never took up any book but the Baronetage; there he found occupation for an idle hour, and consolation in a distressed one; there his faculties were roused into admiration and respect, by contemplating the limited remnant of the earliest patents; there any unwelcome sensations, arising from domestic affairs changed naturally into pity and contempt as he turned over the almost endless creations of the last century; and there, if every other leaf were powerless, he could read his own history with an interest which never failed.

    Jane Austen, Persuasion

    No one who had ever seen Catherine Morland in her infancy would have supposed her born to be an heroine.

    Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey

    Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence; and had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with very little to distress or vex her.

    Jane Austen, Emma

    The family of Dashwood had long been settled in Sussex.

    Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility

    About thirty years ago Miss Maria Ward, of Huntingdon, with only seven thousand pounds, had the good luck to captivate Sir Thomas Bertram, of Mansfield Park, in the county of Northampton, and to be thereby raised to the rank of a baronet’s lady, with all the comforts and consequences of an handsome house and large income. — Jane Austen, Mansfield Park

    Jane Austen, Mansfield Park

    Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that.

    Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

    No one, probably, ever felt himself to be more alone in the world than our old friend, the Duke of Omnium, when the Duchess died.

    Anthony Trollope, The Duke’s Children

    Miss Brooke had that kind of beauty which seems to be thrown into relief by poor dress.

    George Eliot, Middlemarch

    “Edith!” said Margaret, gently, “Edith!” But as Margaret half suspected, Edith had fallen asleep. She lay curled up on the sofa in the back drawing-room in Harley Street looking very lovely in her white muslin and blue ribbons. If Titania had ever been dressed in white muslin and blue ribbons, and had fallen asleep on a crimson damask sofa in a back drawing-room, Edith might have been taken for her. 

    Elizabeth Gaskell, North and South

    Interesting/Notable: 

    When Everything is Chaos, Who Cares Which Fork You Use? This Guy—WSJ gift article

    This is a very fun to read and also useful article.

    But he insists that tips on proper decorum are mainly about sharing space as peaceably as possible.   In a moment when “many people in high office aren’t leading by example,” he argues it’s incumbent on the rest of us to compensate with kindness and respect. “And I do think we’ll have the last laugh,” he says. “I think the nice people will win.”

    An Action Item: Clean out your microwave

    I was just doing this the other day, and I thought it would make a great “action item” because it takes just a few minutes, and it is very satisfying to accomplish it!

    Here’s the best way that I have found to do it.

    One: Put a cup or so of water in a pyrex (I usually use the 1-cup or 2-cup version), then sprinkle in some baking soda. Put this pyrex in the microwave, and before you start it, pour in a little vinegar. This will make the water mixture foam, but that’s fine.

    Two: Now run the microwave for about five to six minutes. When the cycle completes, leave the pyrex in there for a few more minutes.

    Three: When it has cooled a little, carefully take it out of the microwave and pour the water down the sink. Bonus: It can help to deodorize the drain somewhat.

    Four: You’ll notice that there is probably quite a bit of condensation on the walls of the microwave. Take a small rag or several paper towels and wipe down the wallls- anything stuck on will come right up.

    Five: You’ll probably need to hand wash the rotating dish that circulates in the microwave. It comes up very easily, and in the sink, you can spray it with a little detergent, wash it off, and dry it before putting it back.

    Six: Now take the damp paper towels from wiping the microwave inside with to clean the front of and around the microwave.

    Congratulations! You now have a clean microwave. Repeat as needed — if you cover things in the microwave, you only need to do this every so often.