hump day nuggets: bits of the season in photos and words
At the dinner table last week, Ruby leaned back and the entire top half of the chair crashed to the floor. She – with her bendy, snappy reflexes – was unscathed. The chair remained that way for a few days, the top and rungs in a sad heap on the floor. On Friday, I armed myself with wood glue and a drill and fixed that chair and the other three thrifted chairs that were also all wobbly and crooked. We now have four stable seats around our table.
Read more on hump day nuggets: harvest…
Last night I lay in bed with my kids and a sea of stuffed animals, talking about a new piece of art that hung in our kitchen.
Me: Are there things I always say?
Ruby: Maaaaamaaaa. You ALWAYS say 'I love you.' And we totally already know you love us!
Margot: When we are crazy you say, 'Sisters. Take it down a notch.'
Ruby: And you always say Oh! Look at the beautiful mountains! Or look at the beautiful dirt! And we already know what it all looks like!
Margot: You are always yelling for us to shut the door so the chickens don't come and poop in the living room. Continue reading →
We camp every fall in a valley southeast of where we live.
Cold, goldenrod trees against bruised sky.
No cell service, continually stoked campfire.
Everywhere to explore.
Brown trout dancing up river, fat bodies leaping up high to help shake eggs into the frigid water. All day, all night: plop, thunk, splash as their bodies reenter the current. Continue reading →
Ruby announced she is a vegetarian. Except she maybe plans to eat hotdogs once a year when camping with her cousins.
I remembered all those years I was a vegetarian as I made a huge loaf of buffalo liver, pork shoulder, squash, rice, egg, egg shells and carrots for Alice's food for the week.
Margot lost two teeth in one day.
The sun shone so steady and bright and warm that it felt like summer.
We turned on the furnace to take the edge off those 35 degree mornings and it felt like fall.
We turned over garden beds to make room for garlic.
I found boots I loved. And there was one pair left, in my size and half off.
Andy made me coffee every morning when I forced my eyelids open for another day of squeezing computer work into every available nook of my day and night.
WE COMPLETED OUR NEW SHOP WEBSITE! I am so happy to share with you www.shopgeo.net
. A few things about our business.
Use coupon code HECKYEAH to get 20% off your entire purchase.
>> We hand-cut and stitch every single state, country, province, island, continent, lake, etc. to your unique specifications. For the love of place.
>> We use designer knit fabrics. Our appliqués do not fray; they hold shape wash after wash, wear after wear.
>> Our wares and wears are made for roughhousing. We make things to be used and loved and passed along to little sister. Monkey bar approved.
>> Our materials are sustainably sourced. We pay our employees a living wage. From packing materials to baby blankets to the businesses we buy supplies from, we choose recycled and organic and companies that share our values.
>> The majority of our goods are sewn with my grandma's Singer Featherweight sewing machine.
>> It's all made with love in a small Montana studio (usually with a variety of kids and animals underfoot). Click here to meet our team.
We are gearing up for a big holiday season over here and would appreciate your help sharing our new website! Coupon code HECKYEAH will be valid until October 18.
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Margot had a nightmare a few days ago. That she was playing with a friend and an aggressive dog came at her, tried to bite her. She explained.
It was Alice. But I didn't know her. I mean, she wasn't our pet. I had never seen her before. But it was her. And she tried to bite me.
I wasn't asleep when Margot pressed her body in between Andy and me in the middle of the night, telling us about her dream. I have had trouble sleeping since we got the news that Alice has chronic kidney disease.
My heart actually aches and tears come at really inconvenient times. I do not talk myself out of feeling sad but I sometimes wish I could pull it together. I've had long nights where, no matter how hard I try, I cannot turn off the painful and detailed imagining of life without Alice. I am very aware of the privilege we have in a diagnosis. And the privilege we have in not knowing much beyond right now, where she is happy and able. Oh and the privilege of so much information and easy access to it.
Andy went fishing with friends last weekend and I cancelled all plans. We stayed home, the girls and me. Continue reading →