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the plan we’re living . . .
Sometimes I know I can be a sub-par mother. We continually go to bed without taking the time to change into pajamas. I forget to have my children brush their teeth, especially in the mornings. That shower after swimming rule (and shower before swimming rule) has never been enforced strongly at our home. The kitchen lives in a perpetual state of dishes needing to be loaded, floor needing to be swept. It’s easy to let things slide when your plate is so very full. It’s hard to be the only grown up enforcing all the house rules. Early on in the Aftermath of the earthquake that shook…
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weekend rambling
Here’s what I have for you – weekend thoughts, as discombobulated as my life is. (And it’s not even been an especially busy weekend or an especially discombobulating couple of days. Go figure.) The smell of scones has been ever present for the entire weekend. (It’s a delicious smell, for certain, but I don’t want to consume any more scones for a while.) I have encouraged the kids to find ways to earn their own funds for our Beyond Wildwood road trip. (I guess I’m going with that name, ya’ll.) London is a handy scone baker and she’s had a little Scout’s Scones business for a couple of years.…
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Five Finds Friday (good and bad drinks and one of my favorite novels)
This week has been less speedy, but not less full. Maybe it was the rain. The rain sloooooows me down. I’m sure the boys’ tomato plants are grateful for the rain, but it’s not my favorite thing. In the end, though, we made it to Friday . . . . funny This week we made iced tea for our weekly community dinner. Everyone had served almost all of the contents of the pitcher into their glasses when I poured the final glass of tea for Otto. Setting down the empty pitcher, I took a sip of my son’s beverage before I handed it to him. It.…
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I see you ……
I knew when I saw her, ran into her in the bank. I was leaving, she was entering. I knew then, that she was being brave. That waking up that morning, assembling a coordinating outfit, that was bravery. When I looked into her eyes, I saw the carefully placed eye liner. That was brave. Have you lived that kind of life yet? Where, to get out of bed, to put feet to the floor, to look in the mirror and apply shiny substances to your lips and dark trimmings to your eyes equals a legitimate act of bravery. Of hope. Not of Pretend – but of Promise. Not of…
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garden variety hope (that isn’t actually garden variety at all)
For what is most assuredly the first time in the past two years (and longer), I feel something quite foreign to my heart. Something I am terrified to touch, something that scares me and thrills me and makes me long to stick my head in the sand instead of look it square in the eyes. I think it’s called Hope. Hope. Your regular, garden-variety brand of Hope. Not just the hope I’ve clung to tenaciously with the most precarious of grasps, the only deep abiding actual hope option I want – that eternal and perfect hope in Jesus and heaven and no tears and all things made right and ultimate…
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Our Next Road Trip — And Your Helpful Ideas
This summer (or spring still, technically) we’ve got a gigantic old road trip in our future. I heart road trips. I like it all, really. The driving. The planning. The seeing stuff we’ve never seen. The seeing stuff we saw on other road trips. Stopping at our favorite traditional stops. Car games. Singing (the same songs)(endlessly) in the car. Laughing through the ridiculous – like circling the same exit in St. Louis six times. Building memories and loads of “remember that one time?”. Finding out which restaurant serves the “best of” something in each city we drive through. Best BBQ in Memphis. Best donut in Nashville. Best burger in…
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What I Got To Call “Work” Last Week
Remember how I told you that Hannah told us to watch this TV series called The Kindness Diaries on Netflix? And how we did and then I told you guys about it? Right after starting the series, I saw a flyer and a Facebook post saying that the chap in the show – Leon Logothetis – was coming to my town! What? I did a tiny bit of asking and next thing I know, I’ve got a phone interview scheduled with Leon himself so that I can promote his upcoming appearance in our town on the Travelers Rest Here website! The phone call was scheduled for central time and I…
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Five Finds (a funny video, a weird shirt, a delicious cake)
I’m not even going to say it this week. Birthday weeks are fun. My life is time-consuming – to me and to the other people living near me and brushing around past me here and there. I sort of think I should offer a blanket apology to all of humanity that comes into contact with me. It’s like my Messy spills on other people – all. of. the. time. funny My friend Tyler is making this week’s “funny” category easy for me. He and Tripp have a new video up and it’s one of their “in real life” series. They’ve done e-mal in real life but…
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Local Beowulf Class: My Girls Loved It, Maybe Yours Will Too
Even though my official piece of paper declares that I have a degree in English and Theatre and Communications (it was so hard to choose), I am always looking for opportunities for my children to participate in the arts in memorable and challenging ways. I know that, even though the deepest core of my home education philosophy is reading and living books and art, I need other teachers and educators and perspectives and experiences feeding into my children’s hearts and minds. I believe they need to sit in the audience at theatre performances and I believe they need to step on stage sometimes too. I believe they need group discussions…
Keep Reading . . .
messy
Hey Clay: A Timberdoodle Review
some tiny epiphanies via my quarantine education
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From One Gigantic Number to the Next: Happy Birthday Bergen Hawkeye
Today my oldest son turns twelve years old. Twelve years since I hugged his wee baby self in a hospital room in Virginia. His Monday night birth caused us to miss Riley’s third grade recorder recital. A recorder recital. With twenty third graders. Playing their plastic recorders. (And Bergen’s been bringing good gifts like that our way his entire life.) Ironically, the delivering doctor had a daughter in Riley’s third grade class as well. A third grade fellow recorder player. He, also, offered his sincere thanks to our freshly born son. The very next day after Bergen was born, he and I alone in a…
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Why The Success of Your Marriage Matters to My Kids
On Sunday we were honored to have brunch with a dear family and two sweet friends. Laughter was as abundant around our scratched farm table as was the delicious food. (Quiches and a Dutch Baby. Homemade whipped cream.) And it wasn’t just adults making adults laugh – the kids, ten in all – were engaged and charming and full of interesting talk too. I live in such a vibrant community full of families like this. Not a week goes by that we don’t break bread and share a table with another family. Usually more than once a week. People are in and out of our home and our door is…
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Five Finds Friday (when kids dance for a star)
Every Friday I am a broken record. What? Where did the week go already? For our house it’s been a week of driving back and forth to theatre camp – goodness, a daily morning and afternoon commute requires a great deal of gas. (A truth which the rest of America already knows, I assume.) I believe I prefer staying at home most mornings. And afternoons. I had a great business week – can’t wait to share some stories about that next week. The weather was the best kind of weather the south has to offer. I got by this week with a little help from my friends. I tried…
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a state of being
I am altogether too often guilty of choosing Busy in my Soul (and Busy in my Life) so I can comfort myself with a bit of Numb. The distractions keep me from feeling all the stuff that threatens to drown me. (And. Some days, some moments, there is just So Much Stuff.) What is it all anyway? Why is it so easy to forget what I believe? To push aside what I know to be true? To look at the hill in front of me and to see a mountain I think I’ll never cross? To forget where I’ve been and what I’ve become? To forget that my legs…
