something glorious

This Blog is Not My Home

2010-09-12T12:17:00.004-04:00

But this one is!

That's right, I'm rolling out the red carpet in my new space.

You won't find me blogging in this space anymore, but you will find me at laurenmartingauthier.com where I'll be dancing at the intersection of life, love and photography.

Can't wait to see you there!

My recent whereabouts...

2010-08-07T16:41:00.003-04:00

I'll be posting more here soon, I promise! As you can see, I've altered my layout a bit, and am working on updating my (terribly outdated!) links. I really do intend to keep this ol' girl going. Not just going, but going strong!

But in the meantime, and in case you weren't aware...

I wanted to let you know that I've got a series going over on my photography blog right now and I think that you should check it out! In addition to posting "sneak peeks" of recent client sessions, I've started posting more personal photos under the heading "Snapshots of a Summer," in order to chronicle my life through the lens of my camera.

You should start here with the first post, and then subscribe to follow along!

For the sake of playing catch up (if you're so inclined), I'm linking below to the photos I've posted so far (in chronological order).
I hope you'll come along for the ride!!!

That's My Daughter In the Water
No Way José
Swollen in the Woods
Damp Throats of Flowers
There Is A Season
Wordless Wednesday
I Wanna Hold Your Hand
Will You Still Need Me, Will You Still Feed Me

Versatility

2010-07-04T10:17:00.009-04:00

I've not been super active as of late, as a blogger, or as a reader of/commenter on blogs. The current of 'real life' has swept me under, and I've just come up for a bit of 'virtual air' in the past week or so.

In doing so, I came upon a lil' tribute to this here blog, and realized that I myself now have a duty to perform. Amy, thanks for the honor. You're sweet to attempt to draw me out of my blog drought. And against all odds, it may have actually worked ;)

In order to "claim" my award, I must now share 7 facts about myself, and then share with you my own choices for the "Versatile Blogger" award.

So, without further ado, I begin with 7 facts about myself:

1- In all 18 of my growing up years, I lived in one town, in one state, on one street, in one house. In the ensuing 13 years, I have lived in 7 cities and towns, in 5 states, in a grand total of 9 different residences. Is your head spinning yet? Mine is!

2- Technically, I am an introvert. I straddle the line on this one, and as such, it took me 20-some odd years to come to this realization. I actually love people, and socializing. (Although I do tend to prefer my socialization in small groups, in low key settings.) But, by God, after a long day of social interaction, nothing sounds more appealing than crawling into a little hole (actually, a deep, soft sofa will suffice) in my jammies, and reading books all day long. BY. MY. SELF. (Alas, as a mother of a young child, you can probably guess how often this actually happens ;) )

3- As much as I love the fact that my hubby cooks (and cooks extremely well, I might add), and serves up about 99% of what we eat around here, I must admit that it has made me lazy in the kitchen. And said laziness in the kitchen has led to a drastic degradation of my actual skills when I do step back in to what has arguably become, "Robert's domain." As a result, I often daydream (usually while ripping out recipes for Robert to prepare) about enrolling in cooking classes, and brushing up on some skills with which I would re-enter the kitchen with confidence and flair. Only time will tell...

4- I have honestly not been able to decide or decipher whether I am more truly a city girl or a country girl. I love the sophistication, the culture, the diversity, and the instant accessibility of city life. (I'm also not big on yard work, so the idea of a postage stamp yard, is comforting to me in a way.) Alternately, the slower pace of country life- the stillness, the opportunities to get lost in nature, the more ready connection to the land and stronger dependence on your neighbors...these are all like lifeblood to me. Do you see my dilemma? Not sure where this leaves me...

5- I am a hopeless idealist, trying to learn to live in "the real." As such, I can make myself bat-shit crazy, expecting perfection in every endeavor I undertake. I'm trying to learn to chill out, cut myself (and others) some slack, and revel in the peace of mind that accompanies lower expectations. I have a feeling this one is going to be a life-long work-in-progress.

6- I once entertained grand illusions about what motherhood would be like. (See #5) Those illusions have been sufficiently shattered over the past 5 1/2 years. But, as I've begun to open my hands and release my previously held (naive & neurotic) expectations, I'm being rewarded by snapshots of breathtaking beauty, that I missed out on when trying so hard to control the outcome. Parenthood = lessons in letting go.

7- We don't have TV. Well, scratch that- we do own a television set. However, we have no cable service. Not even one of those freely available set-top boxes, for tuning into network stations. We sometimes haul that big sucker downstairs to watch a movie (he is a total old-school relic, complete with built-in VHS & DVD players, measuring in at an atrocious 21"x 19"x 21"), and we occasionally tune into a favorite show via the internet. So, what I'm supposed to say next is that we don't feel like we're missing anything. And the God honest truth is, Robert probably *can* say that. (And after several months of this set up, Ella rarely ever expresses an interest in TV either.) I, on the other hand, will admit that I miss being able to tune into Oprah on a lazy afternoon. I reeeaaaally miss HGTV. And now and again, I really just want the luxury of spending the day being a couch potato. There, I said it. So sue me :P

And now, the more important part- the bestowing of honors!

For the "Versatile Blogger" award, I've chosen:

Christine over at Dreams of Simple Life. Christine has been a friend of mine for 10 years now! I can't even tell you how hard it is for me to believe that it has been a decade since we first met in the offices of Grassroots Music, in Houston, TX. Christine is one of my friends who manages to regularly update her blog with the most beautiful content- nothing there ever feels as if it's been slapped up haphazardly. From whimsical photo accounts of her day-to-day life to drool-worthy design projects, from mouthwatering recipes to "happy lists", from poignant quotes to poetry, from books reviews and recommendations to travelogue entries, from gardening goodness to life-altering journeys, Christine's blog entries are consistently beautiful, insightful, thoughtful and inspirational, and hers is hands-down my favorite blog on the famed interwebs. You should definitely check it out, post haste!

Next up is Mollie at Fresh Milk Delivered Daily. Mollie is a homeschooling mom to 3 precious and precocious kiddos, an extremely accomplished artist and shop owner, a dreamer and a master of lyrical prose, who possesses a keen eye and strong knack for photography, to boot! She and I met online, some 7 years ago, in the context of motherhood and message boards. She remains to this day one of my favorite list-makers, creators, poetic observers, and fleeting moment capturers on the planet, let alone the web. Creative souls, take note. Bookmark. Read daily. Thank me later ;)

And finally, on a local note, Jo-Lynn at Musings of a Housewife gets props for versatility as well. I first discovered Jo-Lynn's blog in Main Line Today's 2009 "Best of the Main Line" issue. On the one hand, Jo-Lynn posts about eating whole foods, supporting local farmers and cooking simple, healthy food for the whole family. These shared passions are what drew me in, and keep me coming back to her blog on a near daily basis. Not only does she share my ideals about buying local, organically grown food, she's in close enough proximity to share her sources as well. Score! On the other hand, Jo-Lynn is a prolific blogger, and one topic of conversation (as interesting as it may be) does not a "post-a-day blog" make. Jo-Lynn posts voraciously on a whole host of topics, including fashion, reality TV and parenting, and she hosts some really spiffy giveaways as well. Eat local. Shop local. Read local blogs!

A Severe Mercy

2010-07-02T14:27:00.016-04:00

The past several weeks around here have been all topsy turvy- defined by nearly equal doses of joy and grief, celebration and sadness, new beginnings and premature endings. We've experienced sickness, danced to great music, witnessed decay, watched new doors swing open, been bowled over by death, overwhelmed with peace, and all of it in roller-coaster-ride fashion.

One of the two biggest touchstones of this time was my Pop Pop's passing. I've since struggled with how to properly memorialize a man who meant so much to me, and exhibited such a depth and breadth of love and integrity over the course of a lifetime. What I know for certain, is that when he exited this earth and his light was extinguished, our world was left a little more replete with shadow, less resplendent with light.

Below are the words, inadequate at best, that I wove together to pay tribute to my beloved Pop Pop. In honor of him, I share them with you:

To anyone who knows us well, the phrase ‘a severe mercy’ is a familiar one. It is the title of a well-loved and oft-referenced book, but also the inscription on our wedding bands.

When we chose to incorporate the phrase into our wedding ceremony, and our marriage, it was because we felt that our love- a compassionate gift to us, unearned, but gratefully received, was larger-than-life, unique, especially extraordinary. What we had was not just love, but exceptional love. A severe mercy.

For the second time in my adult life, I feel like I have been witness to a severe mercy.

Over the past 6 weeks, our routine took shape. Rise on Saturday (or sometimes Sunday), eat breakfast, cube watermelon. Set Ella loose with crayons, colored pencils, watercolor paints and paper. Select and snip flowers from our backyard garden, and balance the vase between our knees for the 30 minute ride from Phoenixville to Blue Bell.

Yes, over these past weeks, our visits to Pop Pop took on a shape and a life of their own. If he must move from his apartment to a bed in the medical unit, then come hell or high water, he would have his great granddaughter’s artwork and freshly cut flowers to brighten the space. He would have watermelon (and mom’s Russian tea cake cookies) to satiate his sweet tooth. And he would have company, family, by his side. But these visits, and the simple pleasures that populated them, were far from one-sided. We may have brought artwork to adorn the walls, but Pop Pop supplied the colorful stories that lit the corridors of the past, and allowed us entry to worlds that only he had inhabited. Our hands may have sliced fruit and arranged flowers, but his soft, strong hands held ours, with resolve and reassurance, as we watched our loved one begin to slip away.

Last Sunday we arrived as usual, not knowing quite what to expect. The week before we’d had a lovely time together, full of conversation, nostalgia, watermelon juice and palpable hope. This week we’d been warned that Pop Pop’s decline over the past 7 days had been steady and stunning. I entered the room ahead of Robert and Ella, just as the nurse was exiting. Pop Pop was dressed and upright in the bed, and his eyes lit up when he saw me. As I sat on the edge of the bed, my heart leapt into my throat, and when I opened my mouth, it came pouring out. Much more important to me than standing here and telling you these things today, is the fact that I got to tell my Pop Pop what he meant to me. How fortunate I felt to be his granddaughter. How grateful to have had the honor of watching my daughter and my husband form individual, loving relationships with him. And to tell him all of this, as he looked into my eyes (tear-soaked as they may have been), and gently stroked my arm. To say to him, “I’m so glad that you’re my Pop Pop.” And for him to say back to me, “I’m so glad too.”

For the next two hours, we simply sat together, in the calm confidence of Pop Pop’s presence. I held his right hand, and Robert held his left, and I felt the wordless proclamations of deep and abiding love, each time Pop Pop squeezed my hand, tight within his grip, over and over and over again. I read to Pop Pop from Samuel Johnson’s “Prayers & Meditations.”

“Let the Holy Spirit comfort and guide me, that in

my passage throughthe pains or pleasures of the

present state, I may never be tempted to

forgetfulness of Thee. Let my life be useful and

my death be happy;let me live according to Thy laws,

and die with just confidence in Thy mercy, for the sake

of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

Pop Pop relished the roasted tomatoes that Robert had prepared for him, and we all laughed over the glaring omission of the “stinky cheese.”

Ella gave him a sprig of mint that she’d plucked from the garden, and as he inhaled its scent, he declared, “Beautiful mint.” He blew weak kisses across the expanse of the bed. He closed his eyes, breathed long and deep, then opened them again, and looked into mine long and deep. And as we sat there, I felt a knowing.

When the diagnosis was in, and the prognosis delivered, we all knew that death from this cancer could be painful and arduous. And out of love for Pop Pop, we hoped and we prayed that it wouldn’t be. That instead of a painstaking journey, Pop Pop’s passage could be paved with peace, and marked by mercy. That Pop Pop would receive his very own ‘severe mercy.’ And 15 minutes later, after another round of goodbyes had been said, after hugs, and kisses had been exchanged, hands clasped together one final, fierce time, he did. Just as Sheldon Van Auken had described it, in this book that first changed my life and molded my marriage, my Pop Pop was ushered away by “a mercy that was as severe as death, a death that was as merciful as love.”

In addition to all of the roles that my Pop Pop filled with such love and loyalty- father, husband, uncle, grandfather, great-grandfather, “Odd Fellow”, he also displayed a great affection and aptitude for the written word, and in particular- poetry. And so today, I can think of no more fitting way to bid him goodbye, to honor his memory, and to articulate my own loss than through the words of Mary Oliver’s poem, “In Blackwater Woods:”

In Blackwater Woods

Look, the trees

are turning

their own bodies

into pillars

of light,

are giving off the rich

fragrance of cinnamon

and fulfillment,

the long tapers

of cattails

are bursting and floating away over

the blue shoulders

of the ponds,

and every pond,

no matter what its

name is, is

nameless now.

Every year

everything

I have ever learned

in my lifetime

leads back to this: the fires

and the black river of loss

whose other side

is salvation,

whose meaning

none of us will ever know.

To live in this world

you must be able

to do three things:

to love what is mortal;

to hold it

against your bones knowing

your own life depends on it;

and, when the time comes to let it go,

to let it go.

~ Mary Oliver ~

Butternut Squash Flat Bread with Cheddar and Pine Nuts

2010-03-13T18:05:00.010-05:00

Oh. my. goodness!!

The truth is- we've really not been able to go wrong with any of the recipes we've whipped up lately in which butternut squash plays a starring role. But this not-quite-a-pizza pizza was FABULOUS! So fabulous, in fact, that we repeated the recipe twice this past week. Full disclosure would lead me to tell you that we had lots of leftover squash from the first go 'round (have you tried to find a 1lb butternut?!?), so it was a choice fueled as much by practicality as it was by culinary delight. But let me assure you- there was no shortage of culinary delight!

So, for those who asked, here is the recipe, along with our humble suggestions for some specific ingredients, which we think "made the meal."

Also, I should note that this recipe originated in the pages of Real Simple Magazine.

Ingredients:

1 lb. store-bought pizza dough (thawed if frozen) - *we heartily endorse and happily recommend the refrigerated whole wheat pizza dough from Trader Joe's, which rings in at the rather unbelievable price of 99¢*

1 lb. butternut squash peeled, seeded & sliced to 1/4 thick (Robert uses his mad skills with his chef's knife, while I prefer to bust out the Swissmar Borner V-Slicer Plus Mandoline )

1/2 red onion, thinly sliced

1/4 cup pine nuts

1 tbsp. fresh thyme leaves

1 tbsp. olive oil

1/2 tsp. kosher salt & 1/4 tsp. fresh ground pepper

1 1/2 cups (6 oz.) grated extra-sharp cheddar cheese (We bought ours from Whole Foods, and the flavor was to die for! So again, I would highly recommend springing for a specific ingredient- the Cabot Clothbound Cheddar, produced in partnership with the Cellars at Jasper Hill.

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

Roll out your dough into a large oval, then place it onto a cornmeal-dusted baking sheet.

Use a large bowl to toss the squash, onion, pine nuts, thyme, olive oil, salt and pepper together. Spread mixture across the dough, and top with grated cheese.

Bake for approx. 30 minutes, or until golden brown and crisp.

ENJOY! And be sure to let me know (in the comments) if you end up making this delectable dish. (And if it pleases your palate as much as it did ours!)

**One more bit of disclosure. I am an Amazon affiliate- so if you happen to click on one of the imbedded Amazon.com links in this post, and then actually purchase the item in question, I will make a small commission, paid in Amazon gift cards.**

99

2010-03-04T19:45:00.007-05:00

photo credit: Jim McConnell on Flickr

Today my Grammy would have been 99 years old. On this day, especially, I've been thinking of her fondly, remembering her lovingly, and silently mourning the fact that my daughter was not afforded the rich and glorious privlege of knowing her.

And in the spirit of telling stories that empower women, I thought I'd share with you a small piece of Grammy's story. And my story. How our stories and our hands and our lives intertwined...for not nearly long enough.

How does one stand up on a day such as this and attempt to capture in words the entire essence of a person’s life? How can one possibly do justice to the contents of 94 years and 51 days in a few moments or a handful of sentences?

My memories of Grammy are overwhelmingly defined by my childhood. Growing up as a Martin kid, I rarely knew the presence of a “babysitter.” What I had, instead, was a Grammy. Many of my most vivid memories of childhood took place in her home on Beverly Road.

I remember countless sleepovers, and being rocked to sleep in the green upholstered rocking chair. I remember distinctly the way her voice rose and fell as she sang songs into my ear and I drifted into a hazy slumber. I remember the warmth and softness of her lap, and her arms around me.

I remember baking cookies. Not Grammy baking cookies…but all of us baking cookies. The whole ragamuffin bunch of us. Little hands stirring the cookie dough with big wooden spoons. Little tongues licking those spoons…(and bowls, and anything else she would let us get our mouths on!)

I remember her expansive backyard. I recall picking clover on the hill that sloped down from the neighbor’s yard, and picking strawberries from the small patch that ran alongside the house. I remember how Grammy would receive the clover as if they were a dozen red roses, and display them with honor in a vase. I remember plucking mint leaves from the backyard bush, and depositing them into pitchers of iced tea.

I remember sitting outside on lawn chairs, husking corn with Grammy and snapping the ends off of green beans. I remember tossing the beans into the same big pot they’d be boiled in later. And I remember eating the fruit of our labor for dinner.

I remember hauling laundry baskets out the back door, and the lost art of hanging clothes to dry in the sun.

I remember getting down on our knees in the dirt, and planting flowers in the yard. I will never see a daffodil or catch the scent of hyacinths without my mind turning to Grammy.

I remember hours spent reading together and playing together. I remember the corner in the family room crammed with toys and books for the grandkids. I remember dressing up and parading around in Grammy’s clothes.

I remember trips to Friendly’s. And I remember that if she wasn’t taking us out for ice cream she was serving it up Turkey Hill style at home.

These cherished memories, however, don’t end in my early childhood. I recall with great fondness a grandmother who remained an active and involved figure in my life long into her eighties. I remember a grandmother who attended every concert, every play and performance. I remember a grandmother who sang loud in church and laughed hard at home. I remember a grandmother who dried my teenage tears in the same way that she’d dried those of my childhood.

The time that Grammy spent with us, and the joy that she took in those moments, were evidence of the great worth and value that she placed on children. I believe my Grammy took seriously the words and actions of Jesus regarding children. When His disciples quarreled as to who was the greatest, He put a child in their midst and said, “Unless you become like one of these little ones you cannot enter the kingdom of heaven.” From those childhood hours spent at my Grammy’s side I learned the value of children. My value, as a child. It is a lesson that gave me a strong sense of security as a child, that has aided me as a mother, and that will shape who I one day hope to become as a grandmother.

I lean hard on the lessons that I gained from my Grammy as a child. Lessons of love, patience, faith and kindness. But I also believe that it was in Grammy’s last years and moments of life that she taught us her biggest lessons. For in the same way that Christ extended His hand and His heart to children, He was also always reaching out to the marginalized and the forgotten. The orphan. The widow. The prisoner. The sick and the lonely.

For a woman who maintained her independence for such a long time, the last years of Grammy’s life stood out in stark contrast. She got sick. She got weak. And it had to have made her lonely. She could no longer walk alone without falling. She could no longer talk with clarity and coherence. She needed the same kind of help we’d needed as children- someone to bandage her wounds, to bathe her, to help her to the bathroom. Someone to listen patiently as she tried to express herself. Someone to read to her. Someone to dry her tears.

Just as she’d patiently performed these tasks for us so many times, we learned to gently, patiently, humbly meet her most basic of needs. And in doing so we learned that just as Jesus is especially attuned to the heart of a child, He is also attuned to those whose voices are drowned out by the bustling noise of this busy world. He is concerned with those that the world forgets. And as Christ turns his eyes toward the least of these, so must we.

May we all go back to our lives this night, not grieving, but inspired. Inspired by the loving example of my Grammy. May we go back to our homes and hug our children a little more tightly. Listen to them a little more closely. Love them memorably. And may we similarly seek out others who need our love, our time, our energy and our efforts. The least of these. Because of the example of Christ and of his daughter, Margaret Martin, may no one in our lives go to bed tonight unaware of their value and worth. May no one in our lives spend the night lonely, pushed aside, silenced or forgotten. I know that the voice of my Grammy’s life rings out unsilenced, and Grammy, I will never forget you.

Eulogy written for my Grammy- Clara "Margaret" Eaton Martin

Disclaimer (because for some, it is apparently more important to haggle over such details, than to focus on the intent of this tribute):

**This post was written yesterday (March 3rd), and posted today (March 4th)**

Sunday

2010-02-28T20:26:00.008-05:00

Slices of Life

The Morning Frenzy

The Morning Feast

Evening's Golden Glow

Everyday Scrapbook

Our Evening Companion

The Best Kind of Breakfast

The Second Best Kind (served up by the Birthday Boy, aka- my handsome Lumberjack ;) )

With Abandon

A Pretty Good Way to Wrap Up the Weekend

World-Splitting Words

2010-02-26T18:05:00.024-05:00

“What would happen if one woman told the truth about her life? The world would split open.” – Muriel Rukeyser

I can already feel the hairline cracks and silent fissures taking form. The perilous quake has begun- my legs shudder beneath me, knees gently knocking, as the ground threatens (promises?) to open up beneath me.

A mere three days ago I took my first leap. For years leading up to that, I had remained relatively silent- peering frantically about, and hoping desperately to find some other woman’s voice to speak for me. I was looking for the companionship of like minds- women who would make me feel less alone, by using their words to express my agony. I longed for women who would name the struggles, expose the lies, ask the difficult (even reckless) questions, and be brave enough to settle in comfortably with radical and unconventional answers. Answers that challenged the prevailing notions about God and humanity, motherhood and marriage, power, prosperity and success. I thought that if I could just find others who had mustered the courage to speak up, if I could watch them walk through the fire and emerge on the other side- stronger and unscarred, then perhaps I could follow in their footsteps, and my own world wouldn’t implode. I was so afraid that if I spoke up myself (and similarly, spoke up for myself), that when I looked out around me, I would find that I was standing all alone. I was literally paralyzed by the fear that I would not only scare off everyone already in my life, but that no one else would show up to stand in the gaps. I suppose that deep down the real fear was that I was unlovable- that my questions were too big, my ideas too startling, and that ,as my friend Ronna would put it, all in all I was just “too much.”

Some of you who know me may be snickering. Others of you may simply be thinking- I’ve never thought of Lauren as someone who lurked in silence. On the contrary, I’ve always heard her speak her mind, have her say, articulate her opinions. And, in a sense, you would be correct. I have always been a passionate person, and will usually let you know my thoughts on a given subject. Sometimes, whether you’ve asked or not. But in the face of opposition, ultimately, I tend to back down. Shut up. Hold my position in private, while smiling agreeably in public. What I’d learned through voicing my truth in the past, was that when I spoke out my convictions, without apology, exception or a slew of accompanying disclaimers, doing so threatened my relationships.

I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately. How we as women are relational beings, down to our very core. And how, so often, relationship is the currency that is used to quiet us down and stifle the sound of our voices.

“What?! You don’t think women were created to submit to a man? Your marriage is on the line!”

“You’re kidding, right?! You think it’s time we started referring to God as “She” and tipping the scales back into balance? You obviously don’t know the one true God, and you’ll be separated from Him for eternity!”

“Are you serious?! You want to work outside of the home, while your child is cared for by someone else? You’re risking the integrity of your relationship with her!”

“You should reconsider!! You want to say out loud, once and for all, what your uncle did to those little boys, so that he never has the access or ability to hurt children again? Why, you’ll tear apart the fabric of your entire family!”

Whether explicitly or implicitly, we are told again and again, day in and day out that if we dare to raise our voice, we risk destroying our relationships. We’ll lose friends. Piss off and push away our families. We’ll be excommunicated from our churches. We’ll separate ourselves from “the one true” God. We’ll end up all alone.

“Step out of line little lady, and you won’t just lose something, you’ll inevitably lose someone.”

But as I’ve set my eyes on the horizon in search of these kindred spirits who would “tell my story,” do you know what I’ve found? A much bigger world than most people wanted me to see. I’ve found a whole chorus of voices that sound like my own. And I’ve subsequently found both the good sense to stop expecting my voice to materialize outside of myself, and the courage to unleash my own truth with tenacity and vigor. I’m not buying the lie anymore. I will not be alone!

Will I lose some “friends” by standing tall and speaking my truth, come what may? Yes. Will my failure to back down, my refusal to slump over so that I’m just small enough to keep the people in my life comfortable, mean that some people will decide that I’m “too much” and abandon me? Yup. There will most certainly be painful relational fractures that threaten to break my heart in half, and leave it with a limp. These are scary and threatening realities that I do not take lightly.

But, ultimately I take comfort. Will new, vital and resilient relationships grow up out of the fertile soil of my authenticity? I can finally say with confidence and conviction- Yes!

photo credit: madebyhank @ Flickr

Will the authentic me attract more substantial and soul-nurturing friendships with staying power? You’d better believe it! Will unleashing my voice set it free to find other women who are struggling in the wilderness, and ultimately help us all to build a healing, vibrant and thriving tribe? HECK YEAH! And it is with those revolutionary certainties tucked inside my pocket, that I can step forward with grace, confidence and the volume turned up on my voice.

Lenten Reflection

2010-02-23T20:16:00.004-05:00

"Weeping Nude" by Edvard Munch

Yesterday, I linked to this Lenten Reflection from my Facebook page. Perhaps if I had merely posted the link, and left my ‘commentary’ out of it, it would have been a virtual non-event, quickly and unceremoniously buried in what is the swift-moving stream of the Facebook News Feed. Instead, I prefaced the link with these words: “The only kind of Lent I can conceive of or practice right now…” and thus began a firestorm of sorts. Now, you wouldn’t know it by looking at the comments that followed on my Facebook wall. Less than a handful of friends responded publicly, and those who did were either empathetic or, seemingly, on the same page.

It was the private response my words elicited that planted the seeds that blossomed into this post.

On the one hand, I both understood and appreciated the motive of the people who began addressing me privately. As a culture, we have been trained to protect the ones we love by keeping their personal business private. And for God’s sake, there are still plenty of private details I’d prefer to keep under lock and key, thank you very much. But, I have to admit that I was struck, in this particular instance, by the immediate instinct of others to move the conversation behind closed doors. Perhaps my confusion stems from the fact that I had already willingly posted those words way out in the open, for my nearly 700 Facebook friends to see. Transparency was not exactly something I was running from, if my medium was any indication.

But then it occurred to me. The folks who engaged me outside the realm of Facebook did so using a very particular type of language. They used words like “dark,” “disturbing” and “desperate.” And as I examined the way they addressed me (privately), and the words they used in doing so (words we tend to associate with socially unacceptable emotions), I began to understand their attempts at engaging me via a different forum. I began to imagine that perhaps, in addition to feeling concern for me, they may have also been embarrassed for me. They might have concluded that I’d be less likely to publicly humiliate myself (any further) if they quickly pulled me aside, and offered me a more private audience for my melancholy. Perhaps they felt it safest for me to air my “desperation” (their words, not mine) in a setting more akin to a therapist’s couch, rather than from the much more public podium I’d utilized. I think they may have even hoped to shield me from appearing hysterical. IN. PUBLIC.

And while I can see how my status (and the blog entry that prompted it ), might seem desperate or disturbing to some- neither of those adjectives (nor the associated feelings) were what prompted me to link to the post. Nor were they foremost in my mind as I reflected upon it. You see, I don't believe that post, or the sentiments it contains, to be overwhelmingly depressing or dark. To the contrary, actually.

I think that our feelings- of loneliness, confusion, pain, and isolation, are given the most power to create desperation if and when we bottle them up or try to bear them alone. What Ronna and Anne Lamott are expressing, even advocating, (and that which I found myself drawn to and agreeing with) is the idea that being open and honest- not sugarcoating the hard stuff- is what makes it all bearable. It's what reminds us that we're not alone...that everyone has hurts and battles and scars that mirror our own- it's the universal human condition! And where we find release and relief from those hurts, those agonies, is in sharing them. I don't think it’s so much about issuing ear-shattering cries of desperation for their own sake. But when given an outlet, a voice, they are much more likely to live and die as struggles, perhaps even crises, rather than eating us alive from the inside out, harbored as smoldering secrets, individual shame, and singularly shouldered despair.

The articulation of such ideas is precisely why I've always been drawn to writers like Anne Lamott. (And Mary Karr. Sue Monk Kidd, and now, Ronna Detrick.) Because they're not likely to shy away from talking about the really shitty stuff. And precisely because of that, they seem to be able to get a handle on it. To bear up under it. Even to thrive in spite of it, while also finding the strength to help other people do the same.

I think we most often stay silent in our hurts and struggles and failures, because we are afraid that if we call them out into the world, that we will be shushed, shamed, or silenced. (Especially as women.) But I also think that the power that we (again, especially as women) possess is the tenderness and truthfulness that are necessary in order to carve out safe spaces in which unfiltered real life and gritty true stories can find expression. No matter how heartbreaking, life-altering, or power-structure-shaking they may be. It is precisely in the telling of our tales, the airing of our secrets, and the sharing of our former shame, that these shackles begin to loosen and relinquish their power over our lives. The hurt begins to dissipate, the wounds to heal, the shame to evaporate. And the Phoenix rises out of the ashes.

So, yes, when I posted what I did- I meant it. Wholeheartedly and unapologetically. I have struggles- sometimes it feels like more than my share. Big questions- the kind that overwhelm and, sometimes, even threaten to overtake me. There are days when I'd like to give in- to pound my fists and flail around on the ground throwing a hissy fit worthy of a 2 year old's reputation. (In fact....is it considered bad form to admit that occasionally my behavior is frighteningly similar to the aforementioned scene?)

I often wonder if casting my gaze downward, putting one foot in front of the other, and settling for contentment in the stead of joy isn't the most practical and reasonable concession I can make. There are hardships and hurts that I haven't finished grieving- and I certainly sense that the world's position on that is that I ought to gloss it over and just get on with it.

So I guess that my point in posting what I did, is to begin to free myself (and in the process, other people) to unleash our voices. To legitimize our collective hurts, as well as the pain that is uniquely ours, and in doing so to watch them begin to diminsh. (Although truth be told, I don’t believe that there’s a whole heckuva lot of unique pain out there. Take comfort, friends!)

I want to empower myself, my friends, and even complete strangers to ignore the societal pressures and protocols that tell us to shut up, get over ourselves, and file pain and heartache away as private matters. A one-woman load. I want to loudly challenge (and ultimately, convert) the voices that tell us we'd better stop being so messy in the public square. That we need to quiet down and fall into line. I want other women to quit trying to conform to the patriarchal constructs that insist that the deep throbbing language of our hearts, and the loud, prophetic echoes of our individual and collective voice are sentimental or silly.

Because I believe that the more often we say these difficult things out loud- these big, scary words and world-shifting ideas that challenge the prevailing notion of what is socially acceptable to 'put out there', the more likely we are to find truer paths to healing. To kindness and goodness. Toward community and compassion. In the direction of peace on earth, good will toward all women (and men).

Home Sweet Home(bound)

2010-02-12T10:04:00.005-05:00

Through her eyes:

It's hard to believe that we're now in our third day at home- school cancelled again, and the three of us bouncing around like pinballs inside these walls. Don't get me wrong...there's been plenty of outside time- including 3 trips to the school for sledding on the aptly named Shouting Hill. A little ironic, is it not, that while the school is closed for hazardous road conditions, each day of the closure finds a whole host of families on campus, taking advantage of the sledding hill? (Which, I might add, is just one of the thrills that a 400+ acre campus affords us.)

Last night, in one of my many attempts to ward off the 'stir crazies' that threaten to descend and take hold at any moment, I set Ella loose around the house with our Canon point-n-shoot. If her current obsession with the camera is any indication of things to come, she may end up making her living as a photographer, just like mama!

I enjoyed viewing our cozy little home through her eyes last night, and tend to think we could all benefit from trying to view things through our children's eyes and perspective more often than we do. Anyway, I thought I'd share the view around our little "igloo" as it looks from 3 feet 7 1/2 inches high:

Chalkboard Art:

Daddy's Inbox: (please disregard all the dust!)

Coat Closet:

Bits & Baubles:

Snuggle Spot:

Birds of Prey:

What's for dinner?

Look Up, Look Down:

Look All Around:

Laundry:

Greenery:

These last two are my favorites.

Not only did she catch her feet inadvertently in this picture, but in doing so she composed a shot reminiscent of some of my favorites out there on the web: (thanks, Stine!)

It took me awhile to figure out just what this one was. But ultimately, that's what I like most about it- it's dreamy, indecipherable "under water" quality.

Thanks for taking a peek! How about you? Any budding little artists running around your home? Care to share their most recent projects? How are you keeping the kids occupied inside during this record-breaking snowfall? (And if you're outside the reach of these crazy blizzards and icy roads, please, I beg of you, don't tell me! ::inserting fingers into ears:: )

Snow Day

2010-02-10T12:41:00.003-05:00

Right now I'm dancing (meditating?) to Alanis Morissette, painting the mantel, and looking out my (home) office window at this:

And this:

A bit of a departure from my header, no? Speaking of my header...any idea how to adjust things so that it is centered at the top there? I am admittedly not a techno/web-guru, but sure would like to invoke some of that genius now again ;)

So, yeah, I've been glaringly absent. And while there are about 57 good (or at the very least, valid) reasons for it, I'll spare you the sob story. Instead I'm just going to try much, much harder to make my best intentions line up with my daily routines and actions, with consistency. Also, I'll attempt to let go of the paralyzing perfectionism that often keeps me from posting- the whole, if I can't do it "right" than why do it at all? It's silly, and ultimately, its isolating. So I'm giving it up, one post at a time, folks. And we will see, I suppose, how that develops... But if you're willing to hang with me, I'll be willing to let a little more of the real me 'hang out', and in the process give you a little more pay-off for showing up ;)

Speaking of ditching perfection, in deference to real life...I recently stumbled upon the blog of Sarah Rust Sampedro (via a favorite of mine), who is another in a long line of mothers asking questions about how to be accomplished and intentional, creative and committed to both the work of raising children and the work of being an artist- consecutively. I mean, really, let's be honest- sometimes it's hard to do anything else at all (you know, use the bathroom, make a phone call, entertain one uninterrupted thought!) while balancing a babe on your hip, diffusing a toddler's tantrum, or trying to actively and effectively discipline your five year old. (Sunny and serene?!? Who are they KIDDING?!? Cue maniacal mama laughter.) So then how (and out of what reserve) does a mother summon the energy and focus required to make great art? This can be a truly heart-wrenching dilemma for those of us who feel the pull of a creative calling, but are also being pulled, pulled at and pulled on by the tiny, chubby, persistent hands of the little ones we love the most. Sarah is inspiring to me because she's biting the bullet. She's not allowing herself to be swallowed up in the question- she's just doing what she can, when she can, with what she's got. In her own words:

I am a person who, among many other things, happens to be both a photographer and a mother. I want to be successful at both without waiting until I’m fifty, have an empty nest and find myself at a community ed class saying “I used to really like photography and now I’d like to get back into it.”

I will make and post a photograph every day throughout 2010. If, for some reason, I travel somewhere that makes posting impossible, I will still make a daily photograph and post when I am able. This is a practice for me: a practice in creativity, a practice in discipline and a practice of commitment.

So, because I share her question and her longing, I'm hoping to also muster up the strength to mirror her discipline and commitment, as I stretch my own creative muscles, and work to write and photograph and create with intention and consistency.

See you back here (and here) soon...

Practice Makes Perfect (Or, Gratitude Breeds Contentment)

2009-10-24T17:48:00.012-04:00

This past week was a long one! Change is nearly always accompanied by some degree of stress, and in addition to taking on a new job back at the beginning of this month, and launching the website for Red Dirt Girl Photography, I've spent the past 2 weeks in my new position preparing for a big and important event that finally took place on Saturday. AND I've been planning our move, slated for exactly one month from today! To say I've felt stressed would be a bit of an understatement ;)

And yet, although stressed, I am grateful. Grateful for this job that allows me to work half the amount of time that I was working previously, but for the same pay. Grateful that my pay enables us to afford (even if just barely!) Ella's tuition. Grateful for the school community we've joined that we feel is worth every penny of said tuition. Grateful that my job is on the campus of Ella's school, and allows me to fuse my passion for Waldorf education with my natural proclivity for meeting new people and planting seeds of excitement inside of them for novel ideas and worthwhile endeavors. Grateful for the ways in which we already see Ella flourishing in her new environment, exhibiting more creativity, asking more thoughtful questions, and growing in her wonder at the world.

So, with all of this gratitude floating about, I thought I'd take the opportunity to share a daily touchstone that I find invaluable- my gratitude practice.

Did you know that people who describe themselves as being grateful tend to have more vitality and optimism, suffer less stress, and experience fewer episodes of clinical depression than the population as a whole? Not to mention, you just end up being a whole lot nicer to be around when you're dwelling on what's good, rather than harping on all that is not. So, in my own attempts to both be a more pleasant person and stave off depression and illness ;) I started a gratitude journal. This was no more complicated than picking up a 3-pack of Moleskine Kraft Brown Notebooks at Barnes & Noble and inking the front with a rubber stamp featuring an inspirational quote about gratitude. No, the starting was not difficult at all...it's the persisting that proves a challenge. But persist I do.

Up until now my gratitude practice has consisted of logging 3 "thanks-givings" in my notebook throughout each day. It really is surprising how such a small act can change the entire trajectory of my day. So, I thought I would expand that practice a bit, by sharing some of my thankfulness via the blog. My hope is that in doing so, perhaps I can help to improve the trajectory of someone else's day.

So, please- post a comment. Tell me about your own gratitude practice- one you've undertaken recently, one that's been part of your daily life for as long as you can remember, or perhaps one that grows out of the seeds planted by reading this blog post. Share a story of how gratitude has changed your day, or how you've observed it changing someone else's life. And come back often, as I hope to make my gratitude practice a permanent feature on the blog...

Gratitude of the day for Wednesday, October 28th:

I am grateful for the privilege of being part of a school community where a friendly home visit from the kindergarten teacher, who comes bearing fresh-picked flowers bound with a finger-knitted ribbon, is par for the course.

The Sun

2009-09-04T18:08:00.013-04:00

Have you ever seen
anything
in your life
more wonderful

than the way the sun,
every evening,
relaxed and easy, floats toward the horizon

and into the clouds or the hills,
or the rumpled sea,
and is gone--
and how it slides again

out of the blackness,
every morning,
on the other side of the world,
like a red flower

streaming upward on its heavenly oils,
say, on a morning in early summer,
at its perfect imperial distance--
and have you ever felt for anything
such wild love--
do you think there is anywhere, in any language,
a word billowing enough
for the pleasure

that fills you,
as the sun
reaches out,
as it warms you

as you stand there,
empty-handed--
or have you too
turned from this world--

or have you too
gone crazy
for power,
for things?

~ by Mary Oliver~

C'mon over to the other blog, for a glimpse into our recent family vacation:

Wait a second...

2009-07-20T11:59:00.014-04:00

...aren't I, your mom supposed to be the child of the eighties, little Miss Side-Ponytailed-Shirt-Off-One-Shoulder-Sassmeister?!?

All you need now are some legwarmers, a t-shirt clip, anda plastic charm necklace , and your repertoire will be complete ;)

Hi there, blogging world! Just in case you missed me (and lets be honest, how can I really expect anyone to miss me, when I post here so sporadically), I've been very busy getting ready to launch the brand, spanking new website for my on-location portrait photography business, and in the meantime, blogging over at: www.reddirtgirlphoto.blogspot.com. I apologize for letting this site sit barren for so long. If you're interested in seeing what I've been up to, be sure to visit my business blog for Red Dirt Girl Photography, and let me give you a little glimpse of how I'm trying to use my work to "add to the beauty"...

Groans that words cannot express

2009-04-08T10:00:00.004-04:00

In high school, as a "typical, non-denominational, evangelical" teenager, I really had no framework or sense of appreciation for liturgical prayer. At the time, it seemed unforgivably impersonal, in a Christian climate where "personal relationship" was the litmus test for faith, and "personal experience" was the barometer by which that faith was measured and legitimized. In my arrogance and naivete I assumed that people who prayed "that way" were just haphazardly and inattentively rattling off an obligatory script. That their empty faith forced them to borrow other's prayers, rather than converse with God themselves. Oh, the foibles of my youth.

Now, on the verge of thirty, I think that liturgy resonates with me more deeply than just about anything else in my Christian tradition. The more brokenness I encounter, both in this world and inside of myself, the more I find myself at a loss for words.

At a loss for words to communicate the pangs of longing I feel internally, living in this tension that we call the now-but-not-yet.

At a loss for words that can possibly reconcile the unspeakable beauty of creation with the unspeakable horrors that play out inside it's borders, both of which take my breath away.

At a loss for words that can paint a tidy picture of what it means to live inside these moments and hours and days that are bursting at the seams with equal parts deep-seated faith and unshakeable doubt.

In the book of Romans I'm told that the Spirit of God intercedes for me in groans that my own words cannot express. "Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God's Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don't know how or what to pray, it doesn't matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans." (Romans 8:26, The Message)

And these days I find similar comfort in the notion that generations of saints and sinners who walked this road before me, can give words to the groaning of my heart, when I simply cannot muster up the strength or the faith or the language necessary to do so myself. (Which I freely admit, these days, is more often than not.)

Several days back, when my friend Nate posted this Lenten prayer on his blog, I latched right on, and haven't loosened my grip since. I guess my hope in posting it here, is that someone else might hear the cries of their own heart echoed back to them in its words. That someone else might find comfort in knowing that their own private pangs and longings, sins and struggles, are universal. And that maybe, this particular set of phrases, cobbled together by a fellow disciple, can help catapult them from the posture of painful groaning to one of meaningful praying.

Catch me in my anxious scurrying, Lord,
and hold me in this Lenten season:
hold my feet to the fire of your grace
and make me
attentive to my mortality
that I may begin to die now
to those things that keep me
from living with you
and with my neighbors on this earth;
to grudges and indifference,
to certainties that smother possibilities,
to my fascination with false securities,
to my addiction to sweatless dreams,
to my arrogant insistence on how it has to be.
to my corrosive fear of dying someday
which eats away the wonder of living this day,
and the adventure of losing my life
in order to find it in you.

Catch me in my aimless scurrying, Lord,
and hold me in this Lenten season:
hold my heart to the beat of your grace
and create in me a resting place,
a kneeling place,
a tip-toe place
where I can recover from the dis-ease of my grandiosities
which fill my mind and calendar with busy self-importance,
that I may become vulnerable enough
to dare intimacy with the familiar,
to listen cup-eared for your summons,
and to watch squint-eyed for your crooked finger
in the crying of a child,
in the hunger of street people, in the fear of the contagion of terrorism in all people.
in the rage of those oppressed because of sex or race,
in the smoldering resentments of exploited third world nations,
in the sullen apathy of the poor and ghetto-strangled people,
in my lonely doubt and limping ambivalence;
and somehow,
during this season of sacrifice,
enable me to sacrifice time,
and possessions,
and securities,
to do something…
something about what I see,
something to turn the water of my words
into the wine of will and risk,
into the bread of blood and blisters,
into the blessedness of deed,
of a cross picked up,
a savior followed.

Catch me in my mindless scurrying, Lord,
and hold me in this Lenten season:
hold my spirit to the beacon of your grace
and grant me light enough to walk boldly,
to feel passionately,
to love aggressively;
Grant me peace enough to want more,
to work for more
and to submit to nothing less,
and to fear only you…
only you!
Bequeath me not becalmed seas,
slack sails and premature benedictions,
but breathe into me a torment,
storm enough to make within myself
and from myself,
something…

something new,
something saving,
something true,
a gladness of heart,
a pitch for a song in the storm,
a word of praise lived,
a gratitude shared,
a cross dared,
a joy received.

(excerpted from Guerillas of Grace: Prayers for the Battle, by Ted Loder )

Well, lookee there!

2009-03-26T12:44:00.006-04:00

A few months ago I stumbled upon a new blog, and was hooked instantly. As someone who is easily overwhelmed by the animosity and me-first mentality that often seem to prevail in the world, I am always on the lookout for stories of kindness- both small and extraordinary. I drive around town with a 'Practice Random Kindness and Senseless Acts of Beauty' bumper sticker plastered to the back of my car, and keep a 'Happy File' where I stick kind notes and encouraging emails from friends, to help lift my spirits when they start to sag.

So, when I found out about Melissa, and her project Operation Nice, I added her to my Bloglines feed reader, and started devouring the accounts of kindness that she chronicles for the masses, while simultaneously taking her challenge to complete 'Nice Assignments.' What a great way to remind us of how powerful our words and actions are in the world, and to inspire us to wield them carefully and lovingly. Did I mention that Melissa is also local, lovely, talented *and* married to a Robert, just like me??? It makes me just a little bit giddy knowing that there are other people in my little corner of the world endeavoring to add to the beauty in their everyday interactions.

And whaddya know? Today, I made it onto Melissa's site!!

So, wander on over to Operation Nice, and say hi to Melissa for me! Submit your own story of kindness, and yours may be the next smiling mug featured on her blog ;) Add her to your blogroll, subscribe to her RSS feed, and start planting the seeds of kindness in your community!

(Oh, and if you came to my blog today by way of Melissa, thanks for stopping in! I hope you'll comment so I know you were here, and stop by often to dialogue with me about life, art, parenthood, community, and of course, kindness!)

YOU are Beautiful!

2009-03-16T16:08:00.005-04:00

We live in a time in which the proliferation of beauty products is at an all-time high. And yet, we also live in a time in which you'd be hard pressed to find a woman who feels beautiful, consistently and without qualification ("I love my eyes, but if only my [insert body part here] weren't so [big, small, flat, round, saggy, etc.]...). Instead of appreciating our unique attributes, we curse them as oddities. Instead of looking for what we love about ourselves (inside and out), we pick apart each minor blemish and imperfection, and end up hating our bodies and spending inordinate amounts of time trying to alter them to meet an invisible and ever-changing standard. Teenage girls who weigh 100 lbs. soaking wet call themselves fat, and truly believe their proclamations.

We long for the flawless skin of the model on the magazine, failing to recognize that her flawless skin belongs to Photoshop, and not to her at all. As I enter into the world of portrait photography, it is not lost on me that I will be bumping up against this ethical dilemma on a daily basis. Even as "natural light, lifestyle photographers" (a group I aspire to become part of) tout a style of photographic art that captures "real life in motion," "individual personality uncensored," and "candid moments captured," there is still a heavy reliance on editing photos to remove imperfections, while injecting smoother skin, brighter eyes and greater 'polish.'

Just the other day I watched a demo on a photography website in which a bride's skin was transformed, turning her normal and natural (if slightly blemished) rosy skin into plasticized peachy-cream perfection. The tone, the texture- all utterly transformed. And I couldn't help but think that if I were that bride, I don't imagine I would look at those photos and think, "Gosh, I looked gorgeous on my wedding day." Instead, I'd be thinking, "Gosh, my photographer must have thought I have awful skin, what with the way he/she 'fixed' it in every single photograph." Photoshopping my skin until it resembles a magazine model more than it does *me* would not increase my confidence. Instead, it would tend to make me even more hypercritical of my perceived flaws, and possibly reveal to me new 'imperfections' I had never before considered...

Anyway, I digress...

As a card-carrying member of the sisterhood of women worldwide, I have felt a compulsion in recent years to remind women of their beauty, even as popular media seems to do little other than undermine it. Not 'women' as some sort of generalized group, but real, individual women. (And more often than not, women I don't know from Eve.) It's a little embarrassing at times, I'll admit, and I don't always muster the courage to make it happen, but I do try.

It all started about 2 years ago, when I walked into a little cafe' here on the Main Line. I'd ordered a coffee and a breakfast sandwich, and as I stood at the counter waiting for my bacon, egg and cheese goodness to come off the grill, one of the girls behind the counter turned to me and said, "You have such beautiful skin." Five simple words, and yet they amounted to a grand kindness. I think I blushed, and I probably stuttered a little in thanking her. But obviously, it made an impression. It made my day, and it has since come back into my mind from time-to-time, and helped to rescue me from bouts of self scrutiny and my relentless insecurities.

So it is, in light of that experience, that I try to make a habit of telling random women that they are beautiful. The cashier at Whole Foods with the genuine and unrestrained smile, and dimples that are to-die-for. The woman with the dark and mesmerizing eyes who gives me a pedicure. The girl at the drive-through with the stunning red hair. And of course, my dearest friends, who will probably never fully grasp their own beauty, inside or out. I like to hope that in some small way, my words to them make a difference, an impression. That they recall the sister-stranger who told them they were beautiful, and feel emboldened in this unforgiving "nip-and-tuck" nation of Photoshopped faces and narrow, singular standards of beauty that exclude so many.

Yesterday, I was walking the streets of my friend's urban, river-front neighborhood, in search of photo opportunities for a class project. As I entered the park, an SUV that was exiting slowed to a stop. The woman inside rolled down her window and yelled out to me, "You look so pretty today. Have a beautiful day!" Thank you, Sister-Stranger. I am certain that I will never forget you, or your bold kindness to me. The world and its women need more of us, and more of these reminders.

a little "something glorious" for my vegan friends...

2008-06-11T15:09:00.004-04:00

photo courtesy of www.wholeliving.com

...and all you veggies, health nuts, and people who just love a delicious, light and meat-free meal now and again. (you could even serve it as a side dish, although i'll warn you now- it will steal all the glory from your main course!!)

we had this for dinner last night, and can i just say YUMMMMMMM-EE! seriously...i ripped it from the pages of body + soul magazine, and it is destined to become an MVP in the gauthier kitchen.

bulgur salad with cherries

ingredients:
1 cup bulgur wheat
sea salt and freshly ground pepper
2 tbsp walnut oil
3 tbsp fresh lemon juice
1 shallot, minced
1/2 lb fresh sweet cherries, halved and pitted
1/2 cup of chopped fresh tarragon, chives & parsley
1/4 cup coarsely chopped walnuts

take a medium saucepan with a tight fitting lid, and bring 2 cups of water to a boil.
stir in the bulgur wheat and about 1/4 tsp sea salt.
cover, reduce heat to low, and simmer until water is absorbed and bulgur is tender. (about 15 mins)
while the bulgur cooks: whisk together walnut oil, lemon juice and shallot in a medium bowl, and season it with salt and pepper.
add cooked bulgur, toss to combine, and refrigerate uncovered until cool. (about 10 minutes)
remove bulgur mix from fridge and add cherries, chopped herbs and walnuts. toss to combine.
season again with salt and pepper and serve.
(you can also serve it over mixed greens for a nice touch, and some added nutritional value.)

there are 275 calories; 7 g protein; 12 g fat; 39 g carbs and 9 g fiber per serving.
ENJOY!!!

before and after

2008-05-27T14:29:00.006-04:00

so i promised some interesting before and after shots, didn't i? these are admittedly bound to be more interesting to me than to any of you, dear readers...and yet, i feel compelled to share! in addition, i am in full-on priming/painting mode today, so i will no doubt have some additional before and afters to share soon. today i am on a particular quest to 'neutralize' the wall colors in our house, to make it more market friendly, and also in hopes that the lighter color walls = bigger rooms philosophy will prove true.** seriously, NONE of our 4 bedrooms are small (particularly for a bungalow from the early 1900's!, but even for a more modern abode), and yet, we have gotten feedback about 'too small' bedrooms, so i am pulling out all the stops and trying to find *SOMETHING* up my sleeve that will SELL. THIS. HOUSE. there ya go.

**it is worth adding that i am also a fan of the more subtle tones i've selected. in the overzealous excitement of first time home ownership (and no more apartment-white walls!) i may have gone a *bit* overboard with bold color the first time around. and yeah, i am just now correcting that. YOU try painting with a 3 year old at your heels!!!

so, the most notable before and after moments in the past 2 weeks have included a transformation from a blue slipcovered sofa set to a chocolate brown one!

BEFORE:

and AFTER:

now, the new brown tone is presenting some 'design challenges' of it's own. however, in my opinion, it is quite an improvement over the outdated (and fairly faded) 'denim blue' of yesteryear, and is worth the shuffling and re-imagining that will now need to happen in my living room!

the other before and after i have for you today is another one of my many haircuts- LOL! i think i am *finally* finding peace with the fact that i am much more suited to short hair, despite the occasional longing for thick, lustrous, flowing locks in the tradition of christine or kierstin. so, here you go....the most recent incarnation:

BEFORE (did i mention that my sweetheart graduated with his masters on may 10th?? swoon):

and AFTER (yes, i have noticed how much 'puffier' my face looks with 'longer' hair. yikes.):

so, there you have it. some of the humdrum happenings at my house as of late. :) may you be inspired in your own home improvement efforts and grooming endeavors. LOL.

Tickle

2008-05-20T11:32:00.003-04:00

Ella: "Mom, does Nashy have armpits?"

Me: "Well, no...not like we do."

Ella: "Oh. She has dogpits."

I have several posts brewing- before and after shots of all sorts, amazing free stuff to show off, a few requests for design input....etc., but for the moment, the goofy kid conversation will have to suffice ;)

Singing in the Rain

2008-05-12T17:31:00.009-04:00

After a fairly nice weekend weather-wise (and life-in-general-wise too: Robert graduated from his Masters program on Saturday!!!), today has been all gray and rain and gloom. And as content as I would be to curl up on the couch (of which I must post before and after pictures, being that I dyed it this past week!) with coffee and a novel while the rain slides down the panes of my living room windows, my daughter does *not* deem that appropriate rainy weather behavior. For what she does deem acceptable, see exhibit A:

And since I am a mama who believes quite zealously in the ideas espoused by folks such as author, Richard Louv , I quickly abandoned my comfie couch-curling aspirations, in favor of pulling on our rain boots, bundling up in coats fit for snow (it was cooooold!), and splashing in the puddles for over an hour. As much as I was dreading the departure from the warmth of my cozy home, I have to admit that I think I had as much fun as Ella did: spinning and dancing and frolicking in the wet, wonderful weather!

We marched and sang and giggled. We picked up pieces of litter, and collected bits of nature. (I even found some bundled white flowers and funky, fuzzy green globes, grounded from their perches in trees and bushes by the persistence of the rain, that will make wonderful, natural design elements once I commit them to vases and other vessels! Score!)

When we came in our fingers felt like icicles, wet curls framed our rosy faces, and Ella's rain boots were 3/4 of the way filled with rainwater. She quickly de-robed and climbed into a steamy bubble bath, while I brewed hot vanilla tea. And finally, toweled off and tea-d up, we settled in under blankets and books, BEHIND those wet windows...

And now, Mary Oliver on the rain:

Last Night the Rain Spoke to Me

Last night
the rain
spoke to me
slowly, saying,

what joy
to come falling
out of the brisk cloud,
to be happy again

in a new way
on the earth!
That's what it said
as it dropped,

smelling of iron,
and vanished
like a dream of the ocean
into the branches

and the grass below.
Then it was over.
The sky cleared.
I was standing

under a tree.
The tree was a tree
with happy leaves,
and I was myself,

and there were stars in the sky
that were also themselves
at the moment
at which moment

my right hand
was holding my left hand
which was holding the tree
which was filled with stars

and the soft rain -
imagine! imagine!
the long and wondrous journeys
still to be ours.

2008-05-05T19:19:00.002-04:00

"Mom. You're beautiful."

Spoken by a freshly-bathed, towel-wrapped little one on the couch, who is grinning ear-to-ear as she speaks the words.

And THAT is what makes motherhood the most heartwarming experience known to man.

(For the record, motherhood is simultaneously the most heart-wrenching experience know to man. I'm just sayin'....)

4:24 am...

2008-05-04T04:26:00.002-04:00

...and here I sit awake.

It has become apparent in the past 2 weeks that Ella suffers BADLY from outdoor allergies. The poor child looks as if she is chronically ill, dark circles like bruises beneath her red, itchy eyes. She complains frequently, "My nose doesn't work! I can't smell things!" And every room of my house seems to be littered with wadded up tissues. She doesn't really blow her nose though, just sort of crumples tissues up and dabs at her nostrils while making pathetic little purring sounds meant to evoke sympathy for her plight. Melodrama is her forte.

The other side effect of these blasted allergies is that my child, the one who has slept beautifully since birth, is up all throughout the night. She wants snuggles and tissues and water, but most of all, she wants mommy and daddy to "make her nose work." The best we can do is to prop her up with a leaning tower of pillows, slather her little chest with Vick's Vaporub, and shoot some lovely saline spray up her nose, which you know she adores ;)

Tonight she roused at about 1:30 am, and couldn't be coaxed back to sleep until after 2:30. She is now dreaming peacefully and breathing LOUDLY (almost a snore) next to her Daddy. I, however, could not fall back to sleep. So, after nearly 2 hours of tossing and turning, here I sit at my dining room table, casting jealous glances at the dog, who is conked out in the corner. I'm sipping some 'Calm the Mind' lemon wintergreen tea, and hoping that it will do its job, and that I might sneak in 2-3 hours of sleep before my lovely girl wakes for the day...

My Turn....

2008-05-01T11:34:00.002-04:00

....with the crazy Japanese photo editor

Thanks for the tip, ....Keely!

Fresh Squeezed

2008-04-29T09:42:00.005-04:00

She winds up....

And hurls the peel...

She scores!

Deeeee-lish!

Lovely

2008-04-23T09:24:00.024-04:00

-an impressive selection of gourmet teas, packaged and mailed with great care, by my sweet texan friend, jenni

-and the handmade, handwritten card that came with

-a vintage style tin for storing above-mentioned teas

-a night of scrumptious eats, great music (x2), and fundraising for a fantastic organization that's doing great things for kids in our city

-a slowly growing collection of scarves and greeting cards, made with love and care by a dear, long-distance friend and kindred spirit

-so many days in a row (6 and counting) of beautiful, spend-the-entire-day-outside weather

-colorful colanders overflowing with colorful, local, organic produce

-the sort of friend who comes over the moment she hears you're down, and who brings a mouthwatering lunch, to boot!

-a 2 1/2 year old and 3 1/2 year old playing harmoniously for 4 straight hours, without naps

-soft baby skin, sweet baby smiles, and swinging that baby to sleep

one weekend's work

2008-04-21T09:50:00.002-04:00

did i mention that we love freecycle??!!??

in the interest of full disclosure, the swingset did not come like this. in fact, when my brother-in-law showed up to help me load our newfound 'treasure' into the truck i'd rented to haul it away, i anticipated his eye rolls before he ever arrived. and i was not disappointed. the swing set was old and very rusty. the sliding board had broken away from the body of the swing set, and the steps weren't safely secured for toddler ascents. did i mention that the chains on the swings needed replacing? badly.

and yet, i could see potential. i knew in my gut that for under a hundred bucks (truck rental included), i could bring this baby back to life. and 2 days later, with the help of a wire brush, some industrial-strength rustoleum spray paint products, plastic-coated chain at a mere 47 cents a foot, and a hubby who encourages my half-baked projects, we have:
-a swing set saved from the landfill
-a 3 1/2 year old who is over the moon
and
-a piece of play equipment that we could never have afforded at retail

woohoo!

Do You Freecycle?

2008-04-10T10:26:00.013-04:00

If you don't, you should! What is Freecycle? In summary, it is a community-based network for sending your perfectly good (but unused or unwanted) items to another home, instead of to the landfill! You can track down your local Freecycle group by visiting their website, and using the locater function. Most Freecycle groups operate through a Yahoo Group, where you receive emails from other list members offering up their used goods. In this particular case I recommend that you don't use the daily digest function. While it will keep your email from being overwhelmed with individual Freecycle offers, items tend to go fast on Freecycle. And it's likely that by day's end, the item that you've got your eye on will already have been 'adopted.' In the spirit of stewardship, and our commitment to REDUCE, REUSE and RECYCLE as much as possible, we are huge fans of Freecycle here in the Gauthier home. Have you seen the video over at Annie Leonard's site, The Story of Stuff? It may just turn you into a Freecycle freak like me ;) If you haven't yet viewed this compelling short, then brew a cuppa, and settle in for an enlightening, frightening, and inspiring 20 minutes.

If you have already stumbled upon this gem of a video at some point in your surfing, then you probably understand how compelled we feel towards 'doing our part' to keep the trash heaps and landfills from multiplying, the toxic chemicals from billowing, and our global community from suffocating under the weight of mindless consumerism fueled by the 'perceived obsolescence' manufactured by money-hungry marketers and corporations to keep us buying, buying, buying....

On that note, here are the (used) items that we've been the grateful recipients (not purchasers!) of, over the last several weeks:

As aspiring (pesco?) vegetarians, and admitted 'foodies' we were thrilled to receive 3 vegetarian cookbooks to add to our collection: The Best 125 Meatless Mexican Dishes (perfect for Robert!), Tomato Blessings and Radish Teachings and The Vegetarian Epicure

Ella was the happy recipient of a fat stack of gently used children's books, including classics such as 'Danny and the Dinosaur', 'Dr. Seuss' ABCs', 'The Little Engine that Could' and a thick collection of Classic Children's Poetry. We are firm believers in the sentiment expressed by Robert Frost, that parents should "surround youngsters with so many books that they stumble over them."

I also got a few books out of the deal: a classic copy of J.D. Salinger's 'The Catcher in the Rye' in mint condition, and 2 volumes that caught my eye as a potential future homeschooling mom: The Homeschooling Handbook and one of Rudolf Steiner's tomes on Waldorf educational theory.

Did I mention that generous folks sometimes 'freecycle' BRAND NEW items? I was fortunate enough to be 'the first responder' and recipient of this Conair Garment Steamer...an item I've been eyeing for a couple of years now. SCORE!

Finally, I was able to acquire 2 items that we had not only been hoping to add to our home, when funds permitted, but that will also provide the perfect outlet for my restless hands and itching creative urges! (Check back soon for the 'after' photos!)

A chalkboard for the playroom wall:

And a vanity/desk combo for the 3-1/2 year old who loves to primp and to 'practice her letters.'

There you have it friends- Freecycle: just another (hybrid!) vehicle for saving the planet while also saving your budget! (Who can argue with that?!) Continue to reduce, reuse, recycle, repurpose and reimagine!

2008-04-03T17:39:00.002-04:00

Rhythms are a force to be reckoned with. There are those rhythms that we can’t help but notice: our daily sleep-wake patterns; as women, our monthly menstrual cycles; and as mothers, the rhythm that reminds us that our 3 ½ year old must still squeeze in an afternoon nap, lest she transform from beloved child into braying beast.

On the flip side, there are rhythms that rush steady and deep through the core of our lives, subterranean rivers affecting us just as profoundly, yet more easily passing under the radar of our notice. Today I find myself struck by one of these strong, yet subtle rhythms.

As you can see, the last entry posted on my blog prior to today was added on Monday, September 10th: the day that we tragically lost our second child to miscarriage.

In the months following, there were at least a dozen valid reasons for my blogging to wane- the hectic pace of 2 working parents, the craziness involved in trying to sell a house in the current market, and the fact that the ‘terrible twos’ are, in my opinion, a myth fully eclipsed by the trials of ‘3.’

And yet, as I sit today to revive my blog, I can’t help but be acutely aware, and a tad amazed, that my voice is returning on April 3rd- just 3 days shy of the date on which we expected to usher another human life into the world. There’s not much more to say than that. In the aching absence of laboring to bring life and breath to our second child, I suppose there are other things (related things) ready to be birthed out of me. Hence, my intrepid return to the blogosphere.

Incidentally, we named the child that we lost last Fall. We named her Wren, after reading this characterization of the species, and finding it both entirely and eerily fitting:

They are mainly small and inconspicuous except for their loud and often complex songs.

a time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance

2007-09-10T18:54:00.000-04:00

Today we weep. Today we mourn.

Glory Baby
by Watermark

Glory baby you slipped away as fast as we could say baby…baby..
You were growing, what happened dear?
You disappeared on us baby…baby..
Heaven will hold you before we do
Heaven will keep you safe until we’re home with you…
Until we’re home with you…

Miss you everyday
Miss you in every way
But we know there’s a
day when we will hold you
We will hold you
You’ll kiss our tears away
When we’re home to stay
Can’t wait for the day when we will see you
We will see you
But baby let sweet Jesus hold you
‘till mom and dad can hold you…
You’ll just have heaven before we do
You’ll just have heaven before we do

Sweet little babies, it’s hard to
understand it ‘cause we’re hurting
We are hurting
But there is healing
And we know we’re stronger people through the growing
And in knowing-
That all things work together for our good
And God works His purposes just like He said He would…
Just like He said He would…

BRIDGE:
I can’t imagine heaven’s lullabies
and what they must sound like
But I will rest in knowing, heaven is your home
And it’s all you’ll ever know…all you’ll ever know…

Alive and well...

2007-08-26T13:52:00.000-04:00

I'm back. No triumphant re-entry here...just a humble hundredth attempt to blog with some regularity. We shall see. Things here are slightly insane, which has a lot to do (I think) with my compulsion to write. If I don't process all of the nuttiness that is whirling around me at a frightening pace these days, I fear I may get caught up in the cyclone and be carried off to a crazy place.

So what variety of nuttiness have we got on our plates this month of August, 2007?

Selling our house. Now that Robert has been commuting 2 hours a day for 2 years...now that he is tackling a masters degree on top of full-time employment...now that I am also commuting 2 hours a day....now that Ella attends Montesorri in the same general vicinity of Robert's job...now that we have found a church in the same town as Ella's school....Well, yeah, you get it. It no longer makes any sense at all for us to live in South Jersey, when every commitment we have is an hour+ away in PA. So, the house is on the market, and we hope and pray daily for a quick sale. Know anyone who wants to plop down in Barrington??

New job. Tomorrow will kick off my second week as Membership Director at the Main Line YMCA. The daily rhythm of the workplace agrees with me, and I am glad to be exercising parts of my brain that I fear have developed a thick covering of cobwebs over the past 3 years of full-time motherhood. Don't get me wrong- motherhood is challenging and rewarding in ways I can't even begin to find words to explain. And yet, the office environment is reawakening parts of me that I missed and longed for, and I am grateful.

New school. Despite our failed attempt at introducing Ella to Montessori last winter, we decided to give it another go. We found a different (and infinitely superior, in my not-so-humble opinion) Montessori program near Robert's office, and have hit the ground running, with no turning back. Ella made a sweet friend in the first few minutes of her first day (5 year old Katya), and is thriving in this environment of encouraged independence, free exploration and self-directed learning. She shows no upset at either drop-off or pick-up, which is a huge relief and joy for both myself and Robert.

New church. We have found a new church which we hope to call home, and are thankful beyond words for a new chance to sink into community, and to worship and servce Christ alongside like-minded believers. Right now it is hard to really 'dig in' in the way that we hope to, being that we live over an hour away. However, once the house sells, the plan is to be within 15 minutes of church, our jobs, and Ella's school.

On that note, pray with us for a speedy and uncomplicated sale of the house that we've spent 2 years turning into our home. It will be a bittersweet departure...but factoring in commutes, it will mostly be sweet!

Echoing Green

2007-02-27T18:52:00.000-05:00

A Dream of Trees

by Mary Oliver

There is a thing in me that dreamed of trees,
A quiet house, some green and modest acres
A little way from every troubling town,
A little way from factories, schools, laments.
I would have time, I thought, and time to spare,
With only streams and birds for company,
To build out of my life a few wild stanzas.
And then it came to me, that so was death,
A little way away from everywhere.

There is a thing in me still dreams of trees.
But let it go. Homesick for moderation,
Half the world's artists shrink or fall away.
If any find solution, let him tell it.
Meanwhile I bend my heart toward lamentation
Where, as the times implore our true involvement,
The blades of every crisis point the way.

I would it were not so, but so it is.
Who ever made music of a mild day?

Tagged!

2007-01-30T07:26:00.000-05:00

I've been tagged by a fellow AP mama, and resident of one of my former "home states", Heather. So, I'll acquiesce...

The rules are as follows:
Each person who gets tagged needs to write a blog post telling 6 weird things about themself... as well as clearly state the rules.

After you state your 6 weird things, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names.

Don't forget to leave a comment that says "you're tagged" in their comments and tell them to read your blog for information as to what it means.

*****************

1.) I am thinking quite seriously about dreadlocking my hair, once it's back to a longer length.

2.) I rarely cook. In our house, hubby does about 95% of the cooking :)

3.) I grew up in NJ, and for the 10 years away I thought I was a Northern girl who just needed to return to her element. I've returned, been back for 2 years, and you know what? I hate the frenzied, frantic pace, and mourn the distracted, disconnected state of relationships. I long for the smallness and community of the places I've lived down South.

4.) I vascillate between wanting to birth more babies, and thinking that we will adopt the rest of our brood.

5.) I buy cute high heels and wedges, and then spend 99% of my time barefoot, or in flip flops or ballet flats.

6.) I used to be a HUGE extrovert....I was long known as an outgoing "social butterfly", and throughout most of college I flitted amongst many crowds and groups of friends. Now, I am a classic introvert....I'm not even sure how such a shift occurs!?!

I don't know if these classify as "weird" per se....maybe more like "quirky-facts-that-remain-outside-the-realm-of-general- knowledge? Anywho...there ya have it!

As for my six friends, I'll go with:

Kelly

Mollie

Christine

Ashley

Sharon

and

Jess

Final Installment, Etc.

2007-01-16T14:33:00.000-05:00

I can hear what you're thinking... "Ok, enough already with the thrifting finds." I know, I know....but please, just indulge me once more. If nothing else, it's worth sticking around for the "grand finale" find at the very bottom ;)

Today, after picking Ella up from "school" (more on that later), I stopped at a thrift shop, in the town that just so happens to be the #1 place to live in America. After 2 straight days of succesful thrifting, I admit, I couldn't resist the siren's song. So, in I went. And out I came with:

Two packages of really cool wrapping paper (?)...haven't decided yet whether I'll mat and frame them as artwork, or use them for paper crafting....Hmmm.....

I like to find unique boxes for holding Ella's elastics, barrettes, jewelry, etc. I thought this one was totally presh, with all of the farm animals and such. I hope you can see some of the detail in this picture :)

3 containers for storing crayons, colored pencils, scissors, paintbrushes, and other miscellaneous art supplies! These are neat-o, b/c they are made of some soft, stretchy plastic material....in other words, something Ella can't break, or dent furniture with. LOL.

A fun "American Girl" stripey sweater that Miss Ella will grow into. It does have built-in belt loops, but no belt....so I may have to hunt down one of you crafty knitting types, to come up with a humble little coordinating belt tie

Ok, so here's the aforementioned finale....

Remember these from Day One?

And then remember how I found these, that matched, but there were only 3....so I shrugged my shoulders, and bought them to serve as votive holders??

Well, would you believe that TODAY, 2 days later and about 20 towns over, I found another 9 of the exact same glass!?!?!
So, with a full set of 12 goblets, I'll be returning my votives to their box, and breaking out a bottle of red!

Eclipsing all of the fun little treasures I've excavated from dusty, dingy thrift stores throughout the past week, were these beauties, brought home for me by my hubby last night:

Nobody in their right mind can call my husband a romantic dud (No, Robert, not even you!)

And finally, today was Ella's first "first day of school." She will be attending Montessori preschool on weekday mornings, and today was her first foray into the world of preschool, and into the particular wonders of the Montessori method of learning. In honor of this monumental occasion, we took the obligatory "first day of school" pictures:

Hamming it up for the camera (or, for the intimates in Ella's life- "putting on Popeye"):

Goodwill, Take 2

2007-01-15T16:17:00.000-05:00

Hit up another local Goodwill store today, and came away with more treasures worth mentioning:

A sassy little shawl for Ella :)

A cable knit Baby Gap sweater, 1/10 the price it would've cost new!

Pink, sage & yellow flower-shaped votive holders for atop Miss Ella's dresser :)

A precious and colorful handknit baby cap, for that little sister that Ella keeps asking for... (Nope, still not pregnant!)

How cool is this parka? I know I bought one of these for myself in high school...."down the shore" in Ocean City. Also Baby Gap...also insanely cheap!

Another Baby Gap sweater....I love the detailing on this one....(see close-up below)

32-piece set (8 full place settings) of brand-new, in-the-box pottery-style dishware (Sicily Caramel by Thomas Pottery). $8!?!?!?!

A cane-style basket, that I'll use in my living and dining rooms interchangeably. 99 cents.

Another score for Ella on the wooden toy front! Check out this adorable "baby cradle" that I'll be painting and re-vamping :)

2 packages of brand-new, in their original packaging, Target red cloth napkins, to be used for Christmases to come...

And a nifty, green bud vase for my living room.

And thrifty Lauren lived happily ever after. The end.

Thrifting Success

2007-01-14T14:49:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I was inspired to resurrect an old habit of mine- thrifting. I used to be an old pro at the game, but in recent years have gotten sucked into the false allure of the "new." So, after perusing Sara's blog yesterday, reading a few good articles, checking out Compacting, and hearing about my friend Mollie's success in finding a "new to her couch" during one of her thrifting adventures, I hopped in my van. With Ella in tow (and Robert gone working on a group project for his Masters program), I ventured out to our closest Goodwill store, and got to shopping. And boy was it a succesful trip! For under $30 I scored everything you see below:

A gorgeous, mocha-toned silk curtain panel for our bedroom. $2.99

A cute, colorful basket with a handle, to be hung in the playroom for storing our downstairs stash of clean cloth diapers. $1.99

A vintage, funky red beaded necklace that I'm hoping will go with a smoking hot strapless red dress I bought recently to wear to a wedding. 99 cents.

A tin to be used either as a wall decoration, or to hold something, in my bold-orange-and-red crafting room. 49 cents.

A funky patterened mug. I like to drink my morning coffee out of mugs whose design inspires me :) 29 cents.

3 cool, vintage bowls to be hung as wall ornaments in my dining room. My dining room is chocolate brown, with lots of bright yellow and white accents....how perfect are these??? All 3 cost me just 75 cents!

Just a closer up shot, minus the price stickers, which were blocking full view of the pattern in the previous pic ;)

Rainboots for Ella- 2 pairs, one in her current size (gently used), and one in a future size, BRAND NEW. Cost for both pairs? $6.

2 old milk jugs to be used a juice decanters- 99 cents for the pair.

Brand new Bath & Body Works cosmetic holder, for all of my pedicure/manicure supplies! $1.99

A crafting tote for Ella, 99 cents.

AWESOME, stylin' leather baby shoes (for the next one...and no, I'm not pregnant!), 99 cents.

Quite possibly the "find of the day." A painted wooden picnic basket, snatched up for Ella's new wooden kitchen and wooden play food. $1.99

Can't decide if these are wine, water or champagne glasses, but they are tinted brown, and so dainty....I love 'em! 6 glasses for a grand total of 90 cents!!

These match the skinnier glasses pictured above, but sadly, there were only 3. I bought them to use as votive holders. (See below) Set of 3, 75 cents.

How pretty are these hand painted glass mugs? I'll be using them for serving tea :) 6 for $1.25

And there you have it, my friends....more evidence that you should go thrifting. And that new is not always better....and certainly not cheaper!

AP Mama in Training :)

2007-01-13T22:43:00.000-05:00

Lately, Ella's pretend play has often been baby-centric :) She has approached me with any number of blankets, pieces of clothing, etc., and asked me to tie her baby onto her with them. What a great mama she will make! Three days ago I dug out Robert's Cuddle-n-Carry sling (a mei tei or Asian-style carrier), and modified it so Ella could carry her baby around. How cute is that?!

Confessions of an Eco-Conscious Mama

2007-01-11T10:37:00.000-05:00

I'm a mama first.

Many people in my (extended) family will tell you that I'm a bit of an ecological nut. I think it was my brother Andrew, who suggested we name our next child "Organica." Ella knows to check with me before putting anything in the trash- lest it be recyclable. :) We are card-carrying members of our local CSA, and we do most of our other grocery shopping at Whole Foods. In addition, we try to make alternative consumer choices, for example, trading in:

-Disposable diapers for cloth
-Traditional lightbulbs for low-wattage, compact fluorescent lightbulbs
-Plastic AND paper grocery bags for canvas

But now comes the confession. (This is the instant in which you should picture me ducking under my dining room table to dodge flying tomatoes....)

Swiffer dusters are my new best friend.

That's right- this self-proclaimed eco-mama buys Swiffer Duster refills in bulk (gulp), and then tosses chlorine-bleached waste into my trash, and consequently our landfills, each and every time I take to dusting my house. And I can attribute it to just 2 things-

-The self-serving: I love that these things PICK UP my dust, rather than just pushing it around

-The mama reality- I am a mom first...and if there is a disposable product that can speed up my cleaning, and help me turn my attention back to my daughter sooner, then *for this season* I'll lay down a small piece of my idealism, and pick up that Swiffer Duster, happily and without an ounce of guilt.

(Okay, maybe just an ounce....)

"The cleaning and scrubbing will wait til tomorrow,
for children grow up, as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep."
-Anonymous

Happy Birthday, Ella!

2006-11-07T07:36:00.000-05:00

Two years ago on November 7th, Ella descended into our lives with all of the beauty, splendor, and brilliance of an autumn tree shedding its color-infused leaves.

Then:

Now:

Happy 2nd Birthday, my sweet autumn child, my treasured daughter. You are loved, deeply & dearly.

MFA

2006-11-06T22:15:00.000-05:00

I'm proud of me. Today I put Miss Ella down for her nap, turned the ringers off on every phone in the house, closed my email and internet applications, and WROTE for 2 1/2 hours straight. Right now I have 8 pages knocked off of what must become a 25-35 page writing sample for my application for entrance into a program leading to an MFA in Creative Writing! That's right folks, family & friends- I am finally biting the proverbial bullet. Ella is old enough to endure my absence during a handful of on-campus intensives, and the prospect of more babies will be on hold (barring the Lord's supernatural intervention!) until both Robert and I have completed our Master's programs- his in Non-Profit Management, and mine in Creative Writing. Write on!

A Word

2006-11-06T22:11:00.000-05:00

Just a quick note to let everyone know that no, I am in fact not working. Yes, I got a job. Yes, I showed up for 2 days, and even a 3rd, on which I informed my supervisors that the position (one consisting largely of MATH) was not for me.

Also for the record, the math factor was not presented during the interview process....so no, I did not know what I was getting into. No, I did not accept a job I knew I would not be able to endure.

Yes, I left on good terms. Yes, Ella and I are back on the homefront. No, I am not without a plan. Yes, a post with more information is soon to follow.

Getting Off Easy Here

2006-11-03T10:07:00.000-05:00

Here are two EXCELLENT articles on punishment vs. discipline, and grace-based, non-punitive parenting. I'm aware that I am completely taking the easy way out this time- but Ashley stated her (and our family's) case so well, that for now I'm just going to piggy-back off of her.

Happy reading, folks.

GROWING UP IN GRACE:

Imagine this ...

Walking into a little white church, a man stumbles across the lobby and struggles with his sinful nature. He enters the pastor's counseling office tearfully seeking guidance. After hearing of the man's inability to cope with his own humanity, the pastor orders the man to lean over his desk with his palms down on the lemony 'Endust'-scented wood. The pastor then pulls out a mahogany offering plate and begins to beat the sinner across the back. "This", says the man of God, "will help you to think before you drink again!"

Or, how about this scenario:

A young mother of three is having a lousy day. The demands of the home are overwhelming, she has a terrible headache, and her husband walks through the door and makes an unrealistic demand on her. She bursts into exhausted tears and retorts with angry words...so her husband calmly whips off his belt and begins to lash her bare legs, punishing her for her disrespectful attitude. She begs him to stop with mascara streaming down her face, but he persists, insisting that her pain is "for her own good." He then prays with his wife, asking God to forgive her sin.

Outrageous! Unmerciful! Unkind! Abusive!!

And yet this is how many of the smallest members of Jesus' precious flock are treated on a daily basis.

Jesus' blood was offered for every one of us, from the greatest to the least. The law was a light exposing every sin, but it did absolutely nothing to atone for those sins. Even the slaughter of animals was only a shadow of the grace that was to come. His blood and grace set us free! Totally free from the fear of punishment, totally free from the condemnation that burdened our souls.

"For God did not send His Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world through him might be saved." The gospel of John, 3.17

He didn't see us as candidates for hell. He saw children all born with a disease: sin. We could
somewhat control it on our "good" days, we could try to hide it and appear well, or we could totally succumb to it when we were too weak to fight anymore...but we all have it. He came as our doctor, not as our judge. He came to put on the same filthy rags we wore and say, "Watch and learn, guys. This is how you can lick this. And, by the way, even on your weak days, you don't need to throw in the towel, because I already defeated death for you. Follow me!"

"For we don't have a High Priest who can't be touched by the feeling of our infirmities, but one who has been in all points tempted like we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore draw near with boldness to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy, and may find grace for help in time of need." Hebrews 4.15, 16

If Christ has the grace and patience to gently guide and discipline us, prodding us, teaching us, showing us, allowing us to experience the direct consequences of our mistakes and picking us up when we fail...why can't we do the same for our children?

Why should anyone be considered weak who chooses to walk alongside their children and teach them rather than spanking them? (Teaching is certainly a lot more work than spanking. Perhaps we sometimes chose this because of our own lack of self discipline?) Why is pain needed to teach them how to follow our Shepherd? Didn't Christ take our punishment?

But punishment works! Yes, it does. People who are afraid of being struck by someone bigger than them are generally very compliant. And abused dogs cower with one stern look, and battered women try very hard to please their partners. But what pattern does this set up for the child? Obedience out of fear of punishment.

This is exactly why Christ came into the world. He came to do away with legalism and fear, and replace it with the kind of free life that enables people follow him with a full heart motivated by love. He freed us up to make mistakes, accept his grace, and wholeheartedly chase after holiness and true compassion for our fellowman. Our motivation for obedience doesn't have to be fear anymore!

2 Timothy 1.7- "For God doesn't give us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of self-discipline."

Instead of motivating our children to obedience through fear of punishment, we can learn to equip them with the tools they need to discipline themselves. (HUGE difference between discipline and punishment, by the way. Punishment is forcing someone to pay retribution for their wrongdoing. Discipline is actively discipling someone and instructing them in something.)

We have such a unique opportunity as parents! We, who know all too well the struggle with our own human nature, can walk alongside our little ones, saying, "This is how I deal with this!" "Try this, instead" or "This is how God helps me with this problem". Rather than punishing (which is completely unneeded, thanks to Christ's sacrifice! Thank you Lord!), we can help our children learn to control themselves with a spirit of gentleness and love. What a chance of a lifetime!

Do I expect my girls to learn to obey? Abso-stinkin'-lutely. Do I realistically expect them to be able to control themselves all the time as children? Nope. (Man, I'm an adult, and I still mess up on a regular basis.) It's my job to teach them how to control themselves, and guide them towards healthy adulthood.

My goal for them as adults is love of God, kindness, and humble obedience to their Savior. Whether they are always "little ladies/gentlemen" isn't the issue. Whether they're "well-behaved" isn't the issue. I'm much more concerned about them eventually learning to be considerate and compassionate towards their fellowman for the right reasons, rather than being merely polite at the age of three because they fear a spanking.

They're going to mess up. My prayer is that eventually, they will willingly offer themselves as bond servants to Christ out of sheer love of the God-man, rather than fear that He will punish them if they don't.

Because punishment and fear of punishment is missing the whole point of following Christ.

"By this God's love was revealed in us, that God sent His one and only Son into the world that we might live through Him.

In this is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent His son as the atoning sacrifice for our sins.

Beloved, if God loved us in this way, we also ought to love one another.

In this love has been made perfect among us, that we have boldness on the day of judgement, because as He is, even so are we in this world.

There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out all fear, because fear has to do with punishment. He who fears is not made perfect in love.

We love Him, because He first loved us."

(The first letter from John, 4.9,10,11,17,18)

PUNISHMENT VS. DISCIPLINE

To discipline a child is not the same thing as punishing. Much confusion arises in this area of child rearing, because in Christian culture in the past 30 years, these two ideas have been equated.

Punishing a child focuses on the negative behavior and requires some kind of physical or emotional pain from the child. Examples of punishment would be spanking or some removal of emotional availability.

Parental discipline does not equal punishment. It means teaching the child and gently leading them towards the example of Jesus. No beating required.

Is parental authority God-given? You betcha! But it's not the kind of authority that demands to be recognized. It's the authority Christ modeled for us-gently correcting, appropriately rebuking, leading, illustrating, sheltering, and giving fully of ourselves. And patiently, consistently repeating that as many times as need be. We're given authority not to control our children's behavior, but to gradually teach them how to handle their own sinful nature and internalize godly morals. And that takes time.

The problem with punishment is that it addresses behavior instead of the heart. While spanking your child may produce faster results, those results are out of fear of punishment. The motivator for "good" behavior isn't love or kindness, or even respect for others. It's fear of pain.

Children aren't born with morals. In order for a child to internalize the positive reason why she should act a certain way (out of kindness, compassion, principle), she must be given the opportunity to fail and try again and again, all the while being gently and firmly prodded and guided towards right action. If physical violence is used to discourage a "misbehavior", then avoiding a punishment will be the child's main motivator for acting right. The imprint of pain caused by trusted adult is indelible. The child's moral development is somewhat arrested, because they carry the fear of shame/punishment into adulthood with them as their primary motivator for good behavior.

Related to this is the fear of losing love because of bad behavior. (Also a terrible reason to "act good".) No matter how many times a parent says, "This is for your own good" or "I'm doing this because I love you", what the child carries away with them is, I never want to do that again because I hate being hurt by my parent, and I hate disappointing them so.

The punished child responds with obedience stemming from the fear of displeasing his/her parents. They learn that acting "good" means being loved, and acting bad means withdrawal of love. As sons and daughters of God, are we not to extend God's unconditional forgiveness and love to each other? (And who are we, by the way, to play God and demand painful payment for sin when Christ has already taken the blame?)

From an immature child's perspective, what is punishment teaching them? What lesson do they really walk away with?

Teaching a child that a moment of weakness warrants corporal punishment sets them up for abuse and an unhealthy understanding of God and others later on in life. Thinking patterns established early on in life die hard, or not at all.

Here's what I mean. As a child grows to adulthood, in order for him to function in a healthy way within relationships, it is paramount for him to establish healthy boundaries for his own person and to respect the boundaries of others. Spanking completely undermines the idea of respecting his own boundaries from his earliest memory.

Spanking a child when he fails teaches him that his failing deserves a punishment.
It also teaches him that it's OK to punish others when they fail you.
How will that look when it plays out in his marriage? Friendships?

Spanking a child teaches him that when you get caught, you get hurt. Lesson? Don't get caught.

Spanking a child communicates that love and physical safety are conditional. If you mess up in a relationship, it stops being loving and safe. How will this effect his ability to be open and honest?

Spanking teaches a child that if she displeases someone else, her physical boundaries don't have to be respected. How will this look when she's dating an abusive guy? Married to an abuser?

Spanking tells the child that in order to be "cleared" from an offense, it must be punished. How does that effect his understanding of God's grace?

"This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you" communicates to the child, "You're making me hurt you. I wish I didn't have to, but you've forced me." I shiver while thinking of how many woman have used the idea that they're responsible for their own abuse as an excuse to stay in a destrictive relationship.

Please, dear ones, understand that I would never accuse any well-meaning parent of purposefully harming their child. Unfortunately, intentionally or not, spanking is damaging. The good news is that Christ is the inventor of new beginnings. The past is the past, and we can only be responsible for the present. God's grace is sufficiant for us, and for our children!

So, is it possible to maintain godly authority within the home without corperal punishment? Yes, it is!

I love this quote from Corrie ten Boom (the christian woman who survived the Ravensbruck prison for hiding Jews in her family's home..her family is an amazing testimont to grace and forgiveness):

"...we were disciplined without spanking. I cannot remember being paddled as a child, but there was no doubt in our family that we were to obey Father...We never spoke of "line of authority in our home-it was simply understood. Father didn't have to stand up and say, "I'm the head of this home!" He just was. We never felt any desire to have it any other way, because love and security of all our relationships were built upon the established fact that God was always with us, and He had appointed Casper ten Boom in charge of the home called Beje."
-Corrie ten Boom, In my Father's House

Home again

2006-11-01T07:57:00.000-05:00

Hello to everyone, and thank you for your prayers. I spent the night in the hospital, losing my lunch over and over, while having nourishment pumped back into my body via IV fluids. I'm now taking a prescription medicine to curb any stomach bleeding, but the doctors seem to think that the bleeding was probably brought on by the "trauma" of vomiting, and did not precede my illness. What caused the violent illness seems to be anyone's guess- ranging anywhere from a nasty virus to the possibility of salmonella food poisoning (which is apparently making rounds on the east coast, now originating with lettuce and/or tomatoes). I appreciate your continued prayers as I find myself at home and on the mend. Thank you again for your prayers on my behalf!

PLEASE, PLEASE pray for me

2006-10-30T20:00:00.000-05:00

I have fallen violently ill today and am vomiting blood. Please pray for me- I'm headed to the hospital, and I'm scared to death...

Ovations Salon and Spa

2006-06-08T14:48:00.000-04:00

Robert calls this my "feisty" haircut :) After growing my hair out for an updo in my sister's wedding I was feeling antsy. All in all, I think I'm a short hair girl. Today marked my first cut with Jennie at Ovations Salon and Spa, in the Northern Liberties section of Philly. Lucky for me she rocks, and so my short-lived search for a stylist is over. Standing ovation, anyone? ;)

Wow. Just WOW.

2006-06-01T15:21:00.000-04:00

Yeah, so I'm pretty sure that this little piece of information will be equally startling, alarming and offensive to pretty much all of my friends, not just those of the Anabaptist/Pacifist persuasion.

If you can't tell by the title of this post alone, I'm sitting here at my desk, (while Ella naps and my homemade pizza dough rises), shaking my head in utter disbelief. Well, disappointment anyway.

"Blessed are the peacemakers." -Jesus Christ
Amen and amen.

Good Friday

2006-04-14T12:02:00.000-04:00

I hope it's not some sort of sacrilege to say that today, for me, is doubly good.

It is a Good Friday (capital "G") for all of the obvious and Holy reasons. I do not take this lightly, or for granted. Ella is taking a much-needed nap, and so Robert and I are attending our church's Good Friday Vigil (Stations of the Cross) in shifts. We'll pay 2 tolls today to cross into the city, so that we can each take time to grieve and rejoice over the sufferings of our Savior, in which we are so privileged to share. In which we find our justice, our purpose, and our hope for glory.

I hope that having given our full attention to the Lord's incarnation and desecration, and having firmly rooted our hope in the impending resurrection, that it will not grieve the Spirit when we spend our evening in pursuits far less spiritually attuned.

I am upstairs, at my desk, and yet am having no trouble making out each throbbing, passionate lyric as it pours forth from Patty Griffin's lips, and out through the speakers in the living room. The music soaks into the walls of my home, traveling up the stairs and seeping into my bones, an experience that is neither novel or unfamiliar. All morning I have been trembling with anticipation. My Friday is made good in so many ways, not least of which is the Patty Griffin performance I'll be attending tonight with Robert, and our friend Adam. It's been several years since I paid to hear Patty Griffin play in an intimate room at 3rd & Lindsley, and since I didn't pay to hear her at Dancin' In the District. It's been even more years since I was first introduced to her in a tiny little office in Houston, Texas, by a tiny (and charming) little Texan.

And so, on this Good Friday, I give thanks, in this particular order:

Thanks be to God who sent Christ Jesus to be my shepherd and the lamb of sacrifice. Help me to embrace the mystery of salvation, the promise of life rising out of death. Help me to hear the call of Christ and give me the courage to follow it readily that I, too, may lead others to you.

Thanks to Patty Griffin for coming to New Jersey, and to the Camden County Board of Freeholders and the Scottish Rite Auditorium for making it happen.

And finally, thanks Jenni Simmons for the introduction.

The Verdict Is In

2006-03-20T13:23:00.000-05:00

Yours truly has just been "crowned" Barrington's first ever "Community Center Director"!!!!!!!!!!!! After interviewing for the part-time position on Friday, I received a phone call first thing this morning, serving up the job offer on a proverbial silver platter. I really could not be more thrilled!

I'd been chasing down potential employment opportunities for a few months, and in the midst of it all something dropped into my lap that seemed almost too perfect.....While reading our Borough's Community Paper I came across a small add for a 20-Hour/week Community Center Director position for the town's brand new Youth Center. With a significant background in youth work, and with particular experience in building a youth program from the ground up, I applied. I felt good about it for a million reasons, not least of which is that I really believe in contributing to my community, in some tangible way, other than through the payment of rather exorbitant property taxes. Wink, wink.

I interviewed on Friday, felt confident in the aftermath, and as I already mentioned, the official offer rolled in with the tide of 9-5ers at the Municipal building this Monday morning. The pay is good, the municipal building is a 2 minute walk from my front door, and the hours are such that I will have no need of outside childcare for Ella. I'll be working a few evenings a week out of the house, supervising programming at the Youth Center, during which time Robert will watch Ella. And about 10 hours a week I'll be planning, promoting, and performing other administrative tasks (such as researching available grants, etc.)- FROM HOME!!!! Assignments I can easily complete during the 2 hours a day that Ella naps!

Furthermore, the position is brand new, which is why it's part-time. But the Director of Recreation talks about the growth of the program heralding in the evolution of the position to full-time, as the program and budget expand. (Which would likely coincide almost directly with Ella starting school in a few years!!!!)

I am so excited, speechless, and blessed by this opportunity! Thanks for letting me share. Grin.

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood

2006-03-11T19:51:00.000-05:00

I am almost afraid that by blogging about our beautiful weather, I will jinx it- send it back into hiding, and thereby be forced to bid it farewell. What a splendid and springlike day we enjoyed, this second Saturday in March!! We awoke to drunken sunshine, blissful breezes, and the static of Spring in the air...After mugs of coffee consumed and clean diapers donned, we made our way outside. It was a day to get our hands dirty!

We moved into our home in November, amidst the scene of leaves falling, and crunching brown beneath our shoed feet. In that cool month and those to follow, we concerned ourselves with the interior. We broke out gallons of paint, in shades of Ryegrass, French Roast, Teacup, and Plum Dandy, and buried ourselves beneath the work of refinishing floors, and rearranging furniture. We snuggled beneath blankets and throws, and wore extra socks and sweaters, as gas prices rose and our thermometer setting fell.

Our one nod to the exterior was the installation of our fence. Men showed up on our doorstep on December 5th to begin their arduous task. They played hookie on the 6th, when it snowed 3 disappointing inches, and returned promptly on the 7th to make good on their promise.

And today we made good on ours.

Robert cleared the yard of sticks and branches, roots and limbs, while I raked buckets-full of overripe autumn leaves, and hauled them to the curb. We chuckled as we came to the conclusion that our mulch-loving predecessors were yardwork-phobics. I cleared and swept, then re-organized our garage, while Robert dug at the stubborn roots of a bush, planted square in the center of the yard, for reasons we've given up trying to explain. Ella collected sweet gum balls and stones, teetering and tottering around the yard and driveway, covering herself in a dusty shell to be shed tonight in the bathtub.

And that is the scene in our house now. I have turned over bath duty to daddy, entirely. HE is drawing the bath. HE is dispensing the bubbles. HE is dousing and scrubbing and rinsing. And I am sipping Syrah, listening to the glorious ruckus a room-and-a-hallway away, and composing a symphony (aka- blog) to make music of our rather regular life.

Good night, fair readers. Sleep well, and dream of days like ours...

No surprises here

2006-03-09T07:38:00.000-05:00

The Five Love Languages

My primary love language is probably
Words of Affirmation
with a secondary love language being
Physical Touch.

Complete set of results

Words of Affirmation:		11
Physical Touch:		6
Quality Time:		6
Acts of Service:		5
Receiving Gifts:		2

Information

Unhappiness in relationships, according to Dr. Gary Chapman, is often due to the fact that we speak different love languages. Sometimes we don't understand our partner's requirements, or even our own. We all have a "love tank" that needs to be filled in order for us to express love to others, but there are different means by which our tank can be filled, and there are different ways that we can express love to others.

Take the quiz

Orange Hair

2006-03-07T19:20:00.000-05:00

Courtesy of Meggo:

Incidentally, we both have dark brown hair with some lighter highlights....but should each apparently call on Ronald McDonald for our next dye job ;) LOL

Your Hair Should Be Orange

Expressive, deep, and one of a kind.You pull off "weird" well - hardly anyone notices.

What's" Your Funky Inner Hair Color?

OPT

2006-02-28T14:43:00.000-05:00

Ever heard of the OPT? That is, the "Occupational Privilege Tax?" Me neither, until today...Today, when I went to balance our checkbook online, and found that Robert's automatically deposited paycheck this period was $52 short of it's typical sum. $52 short of what we needed to make our ends meet this week; to lick the stamp and put the bills in the mail. After a quick call to EAPE's accountant, we were schooled in the subject of the annual "occupational privilege tax." Get ready for this bloggers- because Robert is so privileged as to work in the city of St. David's,PA, he is also awarded the "privilege" of paying them $52 in taxes to do so! Words escape me.

Day Trip

2006-02-27T08:08:00.000-05:00

Does anyone out there tune in to The Colbert Report?

Well, tonight Robert's employer, Tony Campolo ,

is making a guest appearance on the show. So, Tony, being the fun-loving employer that he is, is giving the office staff a half-day, and we are headed up to NYC for the taping. It's been a busy, and somewhat exhausting weekend, but we are muchly looking forward to our day trip.

So, even if you're not a regular viewer (I'm not!), tune in tonight at 11:30 EST/10:30 Central, to see Tony serve as an antidote to the one-sided Falwellian media representation that evangelicals in America typically fall victim to.

Ah-HA!

2006-02-27T08:04:00.000-05:00

Back to your regularly scheduled linkage...

(Thanks Mrs. Bailey!) ;)

Storycatcher

2006-02-24T13:15:00.000-05:00

“Every person is born into life as a blank page – and every person leaves life as a full book.” Christina Baldwin

“When a person dies, a library is burned.” Edmund White

So, a whole bunch of neat things have been swirling around me lately, which gives context to both my recent absence here, as well as my reappearance today. I’m looking forward to sharing some of the developments that are sprouting up, and blossoming into promising potentiality.

Let me start by saying how deeply I respect and admire full-time stay-at-home-moms. Having been one myself for 16 months, I am well aware of the commitment of energy, emotion, and non-stop, hard work and heavy lifting that the job entails. Frankly, it is the most rigorous work I have ever done. Hands down.

Furthermore, my months at home with my daughter have been incredibly rewarding, and I would not trade them for all the world. Ella is my gem, my treasure of treasures, and the time we’ve spent one-on-one has allowed for unparalleled bonding. The quantity of time we’ve had has been surpassed only by the quality of connection that it has fostered, as we nurtured a strong and reliable attachment through nursing, babywearing, reading together, napping together, singing and dancing together, all in the context of grace-based parenting.

The days are closing in on March 7th, when my Ella will graduate to the 16 month mark. (The same day upon which her daddy will be 6 days past his 29th birthday, and leaning hard into the living of his 30th year.) We are entering a new stage, as we leave infancy behind in the settling dust of 2005. Ella is not merely walking, but running, hurtling her growing body forward with increasing speed and agility. And while she’s been successfully climbing stairs for months now, this morning was the first where she descended them on her own, utterly independent of even a maternal nudge.

As much as my heart endeavors to deny it, tiptoeing along the edges of the now obvious truth, my Ella is no longer a baby. She is a quickly becoming a BIG GIRL. She no longer coos at me, but speaks to me in deliberate (if incomprehensible) strings of words, phrases….even paragraphs! She has a will and a way all her own. Her voice, preferences, and personality are emerging with gusto!

The other truth that I am exploring, and trying to find comfort in, is that I no longer feel “called” or inclined towards staying at home full-time. Just as Ella has begun to assert her individuality, I feel my own resurfacing. Ella is no longer dependent upon my constant companionship, nor does it solely fulfill her growing needs for social interaction. Now, more often than she is cradled in my lap, she is crawling out of it in hot pursuit of a friend her size….

Right in the midst of pontificating on these topics, opportunities appear to be dropping into my lap. Just as I am beginning to feel as if I might have some truly concrete direction in my “professional” life, doors are beginning to swing open. So, we are looking at our options for a part-time, play-based “school” for Ella, and preparing simultaneously for the career opportunities that seem to be opening up to me.

Right in the middle of all of this I’ve been reading this amazing book. In Storycatchers Christina Baldwin eloquently articulates my own love affair with the written word, and my lifelong obsession with the medium of story. Baldwin has brought to life all of the unsaid things that dance around my heart and mind on a daily bases.

(Sidebar- if you are one of my many accomplished writer friends, you must own a copy of this book.)

The 241 pages sandwiched between the covers of this volume have effectively reawakened longings inside of me that I’d long forgotten, or at least rested on a dusty shelf for a time. Passion is stirring. Ideas are whirring around in the blender of my head, and I predict that a scrumptious, sweet treat is about to emerge. Something that goes down smooth, and nourishes the soul. Something that bridges the gap between story and social justice, writing and ridding the world of inequity. A brilliant bleeding of the colors of my life, one into the other.

“When we live in a family, a community, a country where we know each other’s true stories, we remember our capacity to lean in and love each other into wholeness.” Christina Baldwin

As details materialize, I promise to divulge them. Until then, I covet your prayers for clear direction and Divine intervention.

May the God of all peace guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, this day and forevermore.

Quiz a la Robyn

2006-02-14T09:39:00.000-05:00

Ok, I know, I know....I've been a lazy girl lately, posting only mindless questionnaires and silly quiz results. So sue me. Shrug.

Name: Lauren
Single or taken: Taken
Sex: Female
Birthday: June 4, 1979
Sign: I can't ever remember. Can you tell I'm not a horoscope reader?
Siblings: Brooke (23), Andrew (21)
Hair color: Brunette, with some caramel highlights thrown in for good measure
Eye color: Brown-eyed girl
Height: 5'3"

R E L A T I O N S H I P S

Who are your best friends?: Well, my husband. As far as "in real life" best friends go....I've recently been grafted back into the place where I grew up, and am trying to navigate the strange and uncertain road of knowing which relationships can be reignited, and where to initiate new ones. I'm pretty close to my sister. I've recently reconciled with my best friend from high school, Jessica. And I'm in the process of trying to build new relationships with the women at my church. I forgot how much time it takes to feel truly connected to people. So, right now I'm working at finding and developing best friendships, I guess. That was a loooong answer. Blush.
You have a boyfriend/girlfriend?: A husband, actually

F A S H I O N | S T U F F
Where is your favorite place to shop: For home fashions, I'm pretty addicted to Target. For my personal fashion, I'm a huge fan of Anthropologie, but can't afford their threads. Sigh.
Any tattoos or piercings: Ears pierced once. Used to have my cartilidge pierced. Used to have a belly button piercing. No tattoos- I am NOT a fan.

S P E C I F I C S
Do you do drugs?: Nope.
What kind of shampoo do you use?: Well, I'm usually addicted to Bumble and Bumble Creme de Coco, but right now the budget allows for Nature's Gate Organics: Chamomile & Lemon Verbana.
What are you most scared of?: Not using my gifts and talents, and never fulfilling the dreams that are attached to them.
What are you listening to right now?: Sesame Street in the background.
Who is the last person that called you?: My mom
Where do you want to get married?: Got married in Forest, VA. Well, technically I got married first in Gatlinburg, TN. But twice to the same person, within a 4 month timeframe. It's a looooong, beautiful story. If you're reading my blog, you've probably heard it before ;)
How many buddies are online right now?: Don't know....not signed in to AIM.
What would you change about yourself?: Get into shape and lose the baby belly "muffin cap." Be more comfortable in my own skin, and more disciplined in chasing my dreams.

F A V O R I T E S
Color: Green
Food: PF Chang's
Boys' names: Were that annoying brand of people who don't tell our names, cause we don't want anyone we know to latch onto them and use them before we get the chance ;)
Girls' names: Ella Day, our daughter (and see the above question for future girl names)
Subjects in school: English, drama...I want to go back and study Creative Writing and Art Therapy

H A V E | Y O U | E V E R
Given anyone a bath?: My daughter, all the time
Smoked?: Once upon a time, socially, when I was a tortured and lonely soul and living amongst artsy folks who all smoked (and were probably all tortued and lonely souls as well)
Bungee jumped?: Nope, and no desire whatsoever to do so.
Made yourself throw up?: Nope.
Skinny dipped?: Yes
Ever been in love?: Yes.
Made yourself cry to get out of trouble?: Hmmm....probably at some point, though no specific incidents come to mind.
Pictured your crush naked?: Don't have to picture it, I'm married to him :)
Actually seen your crush naked?: See above.
Cried when someone died?: absolutely
Fallen for your best friend?: Yes.
Been rejected?: Yep...I'm in therapy learning to let the rejections go.
Rejected someone?: Yes. I was a fickle, fickle dater in college.
Used someone?: Probably.
Done something you regret?: ABSOLUTELY. But again, I'm trying to learn to live beyond all of that.

C U R R E N T
Clothes: The mommy uniform- Fleecy gap pajama pants and a camisole.
Music: Jill Phillips, Kingdom Come
Make-up: Not a bit.
Annoyance: Cost of living in NJ.
Desktop picture: Right now the only "picture" I have on my desk is a caricature of my hubby and me done by a street artist in Gatlinburg, TN, Valentine's Weekend, 2002.
Book you're reading: Girl Meets God, Lauren Winner. Light from Heaven, Jan Karon. Life of the Beloved, Henri Nouwen. (re-read for church cell group) Something Blue, Jean Christopher Spaugh. Your One-Year-Old, Ames. I read a lot. At once.
CD in player: Jill Phillips, Kingdom Come.
DVD in player: T-tapp Instructional 2 Workout

L A S T | P E R S O N
You touched: Miss Ella Day
Hugged: Ella, again
You imed: Hmmm...my sister and my mom IMed me at the exact same moment yesterday
You yelled at: my dumb dog
You kissed: My daughter, Ella. Can you tell I'm a stay-at-home-mom yet?? (Before that, my husband as he left for work this morning.)

A R E | Y O U
Understanding: striving to be more so
Open-minded: much, much more than at any other time in my life
Arrogant: i don't think so
Insecure: very, but i'm working on it
Random: all OVER the place. sigh.
Hungry: yes....3 cups of coffee on an empty stomach, and it's 10:20 am. enough said.
Smart: i test that way, but feel like motherhood has caused my brain to atrophy.
Moody: lately.
Hard working: it's what i strive for.
Organized: off and on.
Healthy: see my last two answers.
Difficult: sometimes
Attractive: hard to feel that way while wearing "the mommy uniform", but my husband tells me i still am. shrug.
Bored easily: yes.
Responsible: yes.
Obsessed: with introspection.
Angry: not often.
Sad: more often than i'd like
Happy: getting there.
Hyper: not since college. where did that energy go?
Trusting: getting back to that place.

W H O | D O | Y O U | W A N N A
Kill: nobody
Slap: trying hard to stop wanting to wound my wounders ;)
Get really wasted with?: nobody. but i am looking forward to a glass of red with my hubby tonight.
Talk to offline: a kindred spirit girlfriend (working on finding one)
Talk to online: christine bailey and christin kuretich....the former can challenge and inspire me, even over a computer screen...the latter never fails to put a smile on my face.
Sex it up with: my one and only

R A N D O M
In the morning I am: Tired, amazed by my daughter, craving coffee, and stealing moments to check blogs.
All you need is: LOVE
Love is: steadfast, patient, like that comfy sweatshirt you've kept since junior high
Sexual preference: Robert
What do you notice first in the sex you're into: eyes

W H I C H | I S | B E T T E R
Coke or Pepsi: Coke
Flowers or candy: Flowers
Tall or short: Tall

W H O
Makes you laugh the most:probably my soon-to-be brother-in-law, matt
Makes you smile: my husband, my daughter, and like i said before- my former college roomie, christin
Gives you a funny feeling when you see him/her: some of the people from my past who i never expected to show back up in my life

D O | Y O U | E V E R
Sit on the internet all night waiting for that someone special to IM you?: no, but i do spend too much time sitting on the internet
Save conversations: i recently saved one with my brother- other than that it's been years
Wish you were a member of the opposite sex?: No. Wish I could get inside their brains? maybe
Wish you were younger: sometimes...on the one hand, i am so blessed with how my life is unfolding. on the other hand, i feel like i frittered away some opportunities that i'd like to have back.
Cried because someone said something to you?: yes. too often. i'm trying to stop being so affected.

N U M B E R
Of times I have had my heart broken: two.
Of hearts I have broken: i think maybe one.
Of CDs I own: over 500.
Of scars on my body: a few...all with a funny or memorable story behind them.
Of things that I regret: 5+ (and trying to live without regret)

Y O U R | T H O U G H T S
I know: that God has His hand on my child.
I want: to be a published author, go back to school, then work in art therapy, and be an amazing wife and mom in the midst of it all.
I have: to pry myself away from the computer as soon as I post this blog
I wish: I could be as carefree, content and completely happy as my friend christin. i aspire to that.
I hate: being stuck inside my own head.
I fear: not believing the right things about God.
Stuff I hear: the "buzz" of my computer and Ella banging her spoon on her high chair tray.
I search: for meaning, for truth, for God.
I wonder: if I'll be able to get out of the rut I'm in.
I love: my family in ways that words don't do justice.

Me to a "T"

2006-02-08T16:06:00.000-05:00

Your Five Factor Personality Profile

Extroversion:

You have medium extroversion.
You're not the life of the party, but you do show up for the party.
Sometimes you are full of energy and open to new social experiences.
But you also need to hibernate and enjoy your "down time."

Conscientiousness:

You have medium conscientiousness.
You're generally good at balancing work and play.
When you need to buckle down, you can usually get tasks done.
But you've been known to goof off when you know you can get away with it.

Agreeableness:

You have medium agreeableness.
You're generally a friendly and trusting person.
But you also have a healthy dose of cynicism.
You get along well with others, as long as they play fair.

Neuroticism:

You have medium neuroticism.
You're generally cool and collected, but sometimes you do panic.
Little worries or problems can consume you, draining your energy.
Your life is pretty smooth, but there's a few emotional bumps you'd like to get rid of.

Openness to experience:

Your openness to new experiences is high.
In life, you tend to be an early adopter of all new things and ideas.
You'll try almost anything interesting, and you're constantly pushing your own limits.
A great connoisseir of art and beauty, you can find the positive side of almost anything.

The Five Factor Personality Test

Thanks Meggan and Makeesha...found this one by way of you both, and found it compelling and pretty darn accurate.

Say Anything

2006-02-07T13:37:00.000-05:00

Your Life is Like

Serendipity

What John Cusack movie are you?

Goodness knows I'm a John Cusack nut...now all I need is one of these to sip on:

2006-02-07T08:50:00.001-05:00

My rhyme and reason:

2006-02-07T08:50:00.000-05:00

2006-02-07T08:45:00.000-05:00

Bono Baby ;)

2006-02-07T08:41:00.000-05:00

Then

2006-02-07T07:32:00.000-05:00

And Now

Since our return to New Jersey, and subsequent purchase of a home with a mostly-empty basement, my mother has felt compelled to unload boxes from the recesses of her mostly-full attic into the dank, vacant corners of my "dungeon." Specifically, she is shedding my childhood "memory boxes." Even as I type that term, I begin to wonder whether memory boxes are a common element of everyone's childhood, or yet another phenomena unique to my Martin upbringing...

You see, in my childhood, there were no monsters hiding under the bed- only memory boxes. In the earliest years these were long, low cardboard constructs plucked from the shelves of Clover, Caldor, and Kmart. In later years they evolved into sleek, plastic Rubbermaid tubs, whose sides did not collapse, and whose lids did not crease and crack down their centers. I suppose the boxes grew right along with me, and with the mass of materials I deemed memorable.

In what most often seems a losing battle to keep one step ahead in the clutter race, I spent several hours this past weekend sifting through those memories, and brutally eliminating the excess. Letter books from kindergarten, my tiny handprints, documented for various Mothers' Day celebrations throughout the 80's, my first pair of reading glasses, and a Strawberry Shortcake wristwatch were just some of the spoils of this particular treasure hunt. I also combed through NKOTB buttons (once proudly displayed on my jean purse), lumpy clay creations from a childhood pottery class, and various articles of clothing, including an XL DC Talk concert t-shirt, and the one sewing project I turned out during a short stint in home economics - a hideous knee-length floral skirt (this was Christian school after all), pleated for good measure.

Amidst the giggles and snickers that punctuated my journey down Memory Lane, there was also a bittersweet theme that refused to be ignored.

The unfinished story.

Not the unfinished story of my life, as you, kind reader, might assume. But rather, literal unfinished stories, fleshed out in ink and lead, on all manner of wide and college-ruled paper. Pages and pages of characterization, storylines, plot summaries, and begining paragraphs...Yet not a single completed manuscript.

While I could easily shrug this off as a casualty of childhood impatience or distractibility, I am inclined instead to be gut-wrenchingly honest with myself. And in that spirit of honesty, I must admit that impatience and distractibility have remained my companions long since the chapters of my childhood were retired to a carboard memory box. Sadly, they have been the assasin of every story I've ever attempted to breathe into life.

So when the Barrington Borough sends it trash trucks barreling down Albany Avenue this Friday, I intend to haul to the curb more than a trashbag filled with the dispensible markers of an indispensable childhood. I'll also be unloading my proclivity towards procrastination, and the loaded gun that has effectively and repeatedly shot my stories dead, with the ammunition of fear, self-doubt, sloth and preoccupation.

Mooooommy!

2006-01-31T09:53:00.000-05:00

She's actually thrilled at the prospect of being Auntie's flower girl in April. Shrug.

Bewildered Birthday Girl

2006-01-31T09:49:00.000-05:00

The first year flew by, and so have the subsequent 3 months!

Messy Mouth

2006-01-31T09:42:00.000-05:00

First self-feeding. Priceless!

The loves of my life

2006-01-31T09:40:00.000-05:00

There they are...back in the summer months! Aren't they a gorgeous pair? I'm so blessed!

No contest

2006-01-30T08:53:00.000-05:00

big surprise:

You scored as English. You should be an English major! Your passion lies in writing and expressing yourself creatively, and you hate it when you are inhibited from doing so. Pursue that interest of yours!

English

100%

Journalism

100%

Dance

92%

Theater

92%

Philosophy

75%

Linguistics

75%

Sociology

67%

Art

67%

Anthropology

58%

Engineering

50%

Psychology

42%

Mathematics

42%

Chemistry

25%

Biology

25%

What is your Perfect Major? (PLEASE RATE ME!!<3)
created with QuizFarm.com

In the spirit of my new title

2006-01-30T08:26:00.000-05:00

You may have noticed a somewhat sudden departure from what we'll call an "e.e. cummings-esque" blogging style, to one that is decidedly, well, grammar textbook-ish. The thing is, in my new capacity as Editor for Red Ink Revisions (www.redinkrevisions.com) I feel an unprecedented responsibility to represent a certain level of individual grammatical integrity. Shrug. There you have it...

On the prowl

2006-01-30T08:12:00.000-05:00

Ok, for all you hip mamas out there in cyberspace, I'm searching high and low for cool kids' music. Nothing contrived, syrupy sweet, or "endurable", thank you very much. I'm talking things in the vein of "For the Kids Too" http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0003JANQE/qid=1138627218/sr=2-1/ref=pd_bbs_b_2_1/103-7138898-0347040?s=music&v=glance&n=5174. Silly is ok. So is upbeat. But the music and vocals must be adult friendly. So....comments, anyone?

That blessed thing

2006-01-29T11:05:00.000-05:00

One blessed thing I miss about my nursing relationship with Ella is that while she was nursing she never got sick. Truly...in the nearly 12 months that she nursed she got sick not a once. And by extension, neither did I. But alas, she is now nearly 15 months, completely weaned, and I am sick. First, she came down with a runny, yucky nose. And being that she smears the leaking contents of said nose on every surface in her tiny arm's reach, Mama followed soon after.

Yesterday was the first weekend day in many in which our family had nothing scheduled to do, no where we were expected to be. And as fate would have it, I awoke to a swollen, throbbing throat, an aching body and a clouded head. So, rather than do something fun and spontaneous with Ella and Robert, I spent the entire day confined to the couch, and cuddled up with the remote control.

Yesterday it was nearly 20 degrees above the regularly scheduled temperature for January, and I managed to inhale only 2 or 3 glorious breaths of that springlike air, while retrieving the mail. The sun beat down on our cracked sidewalks, and beckoned the weeds to reach their scrawny arms to the sky. Meanwhile, the only thing beating down on my head was the cold that was busy taking up residence there.

Today I feel much better, and while the temperature is still acting out of character, the clouds have moved out of my head and are bearing down on us here in Barrington. Phooey.

our home

2006-01-22T15:05:00.000-05:00

i'm posting these pictures, because we're homeowners. and because after years and years of renting creme-colored apartments, we finally dwell in a cozy land of color! seriously, i love our house. it's small, and old, and will probably take as long as we live in it to "touch up" to our satisfaction. but it's a house. with a yard. and cheerful, colorful rooms that we not only live in, but occupy as well.

so, for anyone wondering about this place of which i speak, on with the tour:

(**quick disclaimer- all of the pictures posted today are interior pictures. on the day i shot them, all of my digital camera batteries were dead until well after dark. in the next few days i promise to get outside in the light of day, and document the exterior as well!**)

another disclaimer: TEMPORARILY YOU'LL HAVE TO LINK OUT TO THE PICTURES, UNTIL I CAN GET BLOGGER TO POST THEM DIRECTLY ON THIS PAGE. GRRRRR!

from our enclosed front porch, you enter directly into our living room:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/LivingRoomfromPorch.jpg

the living room boasts 3 windows, which will soon be dressed in roman blinds made from this fun and funky fabric: http://www.tonicliving.com/details.asp?productid=194&currentpage=2 the color pallete for the room was chosen with this fabric in mind.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/LivingRoomfromDR.jpg

our favorite bookshelves found a home in our living room:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/2fe9eec8.jpg

to the right of the living room you look directly into the dining room, which is painted a rich, chocolate brown:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/DiningRoom.jpg

and from the dining room you enter into the kitchen:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/114933fc.jpg

2 more views of the kitchen, from the opposite doorway:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/94f85b7c.jpg

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/cb9e9bb6.jpg

also on the first floor are,

our one and only bathroom:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/Bathroom.jpg

our guest bedroom (robert calls it our "ode to autumn"):

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/90682e0f.jpg

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/2bc9c143.jpg
(the boxes in this picture contain white 2" wooden slat blinds for all of the 2nd floor windows)

and ella's purple playroom (featuring magnetic walls):

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/PlayroomEntry.jpg

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/PlayroomStorage.jpg
(this is our favorite "storage solution" in the house, holding all of ella's picture books and toys!)

and now, follow me to the 2nd floor. (technically, a 1/2 story. we live in a bungalow built in the early 1900's, with lower, sloping ceilings on the second floor)

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/StairsFlightOne.jpg

around the corner, and up again:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/StairsFlightTwo.jpg

to the landing, which we've converted into an office.

rounding the corner at the top of the stairs:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/OfficeCloset.jpg

looking back toward the staircase, at our corner-situated desk/workspace:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/OfficetoStairs.jpg

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/OfficeDesk.jpg

and turning towards ella's room:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/OfficetoElla.jpg

upon entering ella's room (notice the quilt hanging where the blinds await installation):

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/3c1e5f26.jpg
(also, the all-yellow walls will one day boast white and pink stripes)

and to the left:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/acde4997.jpg

further left (featuring the closet awaiting a door!):

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/9c2952e3.jpg

and back to the right of the crib (built-in dresser awaiting trim, and wall art awaiting hanging):

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/c9bb5903.jpg

and further to the right:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/75b6ffe9.jpg

and last, but not least, the master bedroom (window also awaiting blinds):

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/OurRoomEntry.jpg

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/OurRoomBed.jpg

also boasting great closet space, lacking only a door:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/OurRoomCloset.jpg

a nice nook for a vanity (with a mirror longing to be hung):

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/OurRoomVanity.jpg

and finally,another built-in dresser, awaiting finishing/trimwork:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/lmgdimples/House%20Pics/OurRoomDresse.jpg

hope you enjoyed the tour...as you can see, we're still working on our house, but feeling fully at home!

clearing the clutter

2005-09-26T09:54:00.000-04:00

i am a clutterholic, trying desperately to dig out. i've come to realize that on some subterranean level of my subconscious, tending to my clutter is a sophisticated means of subverting my energies and squashing my potential.

right now i subscribe to upwards of 7 magazines, and have something like 12 books checked out from the local library. can we say with some certainty that i read to avoid writing?

so how do i conquer this mountain of clutter, both material and mental?

do i halt all magazine subscriptions, to reclaim the time they've already stolen? and to prevent more torn-out pages of recipes, articles and so-called "inspiration" from piling up, and thereby the sorting, trimming, binding and precious TIME they require?

do i pack away my books? do i require myself 1 written page for every page i read? do i schedule my day full of the things i should be doing, rather than frittering it away on whatever distractions present themselves in the moment?

as i chisel away at the stone walls i've constructed of equal parts fear, anxiety, and laziness, isolation, distraction and wasted opportunity, i covet your prayers and appreciate suggestions for how one goes about reviving their passion and excavating their long-buried creative talents....

tumbling blue jays

2005-05-10T09:18:00.000-04:00

early this morning ella and i retreated to our back porch, and spent our first moments of the day basking in the glorious virginia weather. while repotting my herbs i attempted to coax my daughter into sniffing their fragrant leaves. then i watered my rainbow-assortment of pansies, and swept potting soil from the porch onto the grass. each movement seemed to captivate my 6-month old.

we watched intently and with broad smiles as a trio of wrestling blue jays came tumbling from the branches of a nearby tree onto the groud below. and as a squirrel darted across the fencepost.

as we soaked up the solace of early morning quiet, the gentle melody of windchimes was intermittently drowned out by the frantic barking of our dog, nash.

so simple. so glorious.