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five finds. on a friday. (eyelashes. chicken pot pie. basketball.)
Monday seems like a very long time ago. Was it? Maybe. funny It’s getting more and more difficult to have a nightly family read aloud time. But mostly I keep persevering because it’s important to me. Yes, the books themselves matter. But the IDEA of it matters more to me. The time that we all sit in the same space for half an hour when maybe we’ve hardly seen one another all day. The time to be quiet together and to listen to good words together and to hear the same story and to have routine and tradition and familiar to end our day. I read books that I think…
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Plus Plus (A Thanksgiving Version): A Timberdoodle Review
This is a review post. I was given this item by Timberdoodle in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are for sure and for certain my own. I wish I could remember when I first heard about Plus Plus. But, like all sorts of important facts and needless numbers, that detail has slipped from my mind. All I know is, my kids love them. From big to old, from grandchildren (!) to teens, these little bitty square ish shapes are a big deal. They’re not Legos and they’re not Perler beads. (Thank goodness they are not Perler beads. Oh my word – how I have had a continual love/hate…
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The newest little human.
This weekend my daughter gave birth to a little girl. A miniature tiny picture of hope and love and legacy. Healthy, safe and doing well. A miracle that is not to be taken for granted. Saylor Rae. Maddox and Porter stayed with us this weekend while Riley had Saylor. They were thrilled to meet their baby sister (or baby “kicker” as Porter pronounces it). When I told Maddox that his mommy had the baby he literally stood up and clapped and said, “Hooray – I have a sister!” I’m too sleepy to think of all the words to describe the surreal nature of your children having children. But mostly, I’ll…
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five finds friday (dates with otto & beaded earrings & friends)
In the course of one day, a load of mess can happen. In the course of one week – well, even more mess. Right? This week it was a broken water pump in our well. Deep down in our well. Life with teenagers. (Someone this week declared teens to be a little Jekyll and Hyde sort of situation – and that feels like the most true thing I have heard in ages.) But here it is – Friday again. funny Wrapped up rewatching The Office. With beets – to honor Dwight. PSA: They were disgusting. fashionable Sure – it’s earrings again. Are you even surprised? I love all sorts of…
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tick tock. a small choice.
I’m always looking for ways to tame the beast known as my iPhone. I’m grateful that a tiny device can do so much for me: Tell me the weather. Let me communicate with my dad and my brothers. Provide a path for continuing and deepening friendships with my people who live all across the United States.Create a source of revenue to feed and clothe my kids.Connect me with people like you guys.Give me directions while I drive.Offer hours of music or podcasts or audio book choices. And yet. I kind of hate my iPhone. I hate the power it can literally have. The pull for me to pick it up,…
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water. the gift & the cost.
It’s just not something we think about. We know we are privileged to have such free and easy access to it. But it’s not on our grateful radar all that often. Until you wake up one morning and turn the faucet on to fill up your tea pot and nothing comes pouring out. That’s this week at our house. Sunday morning we discover our water is not working. We do all the things we know to do: Check for leaks in the pipes under the house.See if a breaker has been flipped.Find out if there’s any water available from the spigots outside.Call several friends who surely know more than we…
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These Is My Words: A Book Review
I haven’t written a solid book review in a while. But this book is so memorable that I just have to. Last year I signed up for my friend Ruth’s email book list, virtual sort of book club thing. (I sold that really well, didn’t I?) Each month she sends us a list of books to read – usually she’s developed the choice along a topic or a theme. And I think there is a Facebook page for sharing your thoughts, although honestly I never use it. Mainly, I just value that she is so well read and so intelligent herself that I love taking her advice and picking up…
Keep Reading . . .
Losing Time: The Cost of Spontaneity This Week
is this summer?
soundtrack of my mind
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an ode to not making time to write: and it’s not okay
Writing consistently over here has been SUCH a challenge this school year. I am just plain old out of time. Sure, yes – we all have the same twenty-four hours and all that. And sure, I bet I waste time somewhere too. But mostly, I’m really living a fast sort of life right now. I think it’s just the nature of the beast of parenting big kids – and so many of them. And, of course, the nature of single parenting. And of running a growing business. And of teaching at a co op. And of homeschooling. At night, when I finally have two seconds, which is usually past midnight…
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swimming in the deep end
It all feels like it’s already been said. All the words have been taken. The ones about exhaustion and anxiety. About despair and waiting. The posts about overworking and not enough sleep have all been written. Balance – we get it – it’s elusive. Time management – we understand – it’s tricky. Self care – we know – it’s important. I’m a broken record over here. My friends and I, over tea or crepes, through deep sighs and understanding arm pats, we say we hear you, we see you, we ARE you. We’re all singing the same song, paddling the same canoe, weathering the same storms. We are all tired.…
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Five Finds Friday (pumpkin bars, earrings (!) and my kids dressed like historical figures)
Well the weather has been dreamy. The days have been full. The teens have been teen-y. The budget has been stretched. The meals have been quick and sometimes eaten standing up. The water pressure has been sinking. But we’re at the weekend and that’s good news. funny We’re reading a book out loud before bed called Right Ho, Jeeves by P.G. Wodehouse. It’s my first Wodehouse novel and it’s quirky and downright hilarious. It has Berg laughing loudly on almost every page. flavorful We had the pleasure of Oma and Pape Dale stopping by last Friday night. And – the tragedy is – we did not take one single photo.…
Keep Reading . . .
love. (for a concert and a band.)
epiphany: the order of things
… typing therapy …
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share the good
The statistics are staggering. The world is a mess. Bad stuff happens a lot. True. True. True. But also. There are good people too. Kind people. Friends who pick up the phone when you call and listen to you rant about the injustices in your own life. Who offer words of camaraderie and words of hope. Words of “I’m angry with you”. Kids who see your day is heading south and make you the tiniest and cutest cup of coffee with frothy milk and sprinkled sugar, not because you really love coffee but because they do and they want you to try it and everything tastes better in a cute…
Keep Reading . . .
farm, framily, feelings, photos
Grill. Master.
This Week. Feeling ALL the Pressures.
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the burrow: a fireplace update
It’s been a little over a year since I bought my first home. We’ve had to call pest control last week and there’s a funky water pressure issue happening right now. I have a laundry list of projects I want to see completed and apparently strangers who walk on the road in front of my home don’t care for my happy golden doodle because they called animal control on him last week. However. I am still just as in love with my house, and home ownership in general, as I’ve been all last year. Maybe more so. It’s downright fun to rearrange furniture, to shift wall decorations, to dream about…
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a thank you, thirty years later.
I called my dad today. It was a little out of the blue to him. Those sort of calls always worry a parent, it appears, regardless of one’s age. But it was not a random call. I said, “Dad. I just wanted to say thank you.” “For what?” he asked. “What did I do?” “Well, you did this about thirty years ago. So – you might have forgotten.” We both laughed. (Also – what? THIRTY years ago? That’s a thing??) What I was calling my dad to say thanks for though, was this. The high price he paid to insure my sixteen year old self on his car insurance policy…
