frustrated that I had to fire my web designer and start over, I am so pleased that my garden is off to a great start, I ought to read more books.
Lately, when I wake in the middle of the night I have a song in my head. Every single night around 2am I wake up with lyrics on repeat. I started writing them down last week: Beyoncé's Halo, Taylor Swift's Shake It Off, Pearl Jam's Daughter, Ben Harper's With My Own Two Hands. On the full moon night: Cat Steven's Moonshadow.
And if I were to do a mashup and make my own soundtrack perhaps it'd go something like this:
Hit me like a ray of sun
Burning through my darkest night
She holds the hand that holds her down
She will rise above
I can make peace on earth
With my own two hands
It's like I got this music in my body and it's gonna be alright
Yes, I'm bein' followed by a moon shadow
One of the things on my mind on this morning Continue reading →
I started composing this on the first day of spring, adding thoughts and photos over the last few weeks. And then adding thoughts and photos just before spring and it's quickly grown to monstrous size but I'm rolling with it. Welcome to the giant nugget post.
(I was reading this to my kids and Ruby has asked if I could change her name to Bob for a while)
Bob emerged from her bedroom, a halo of yellow bed-headed hair. I was on the couch, drinking coffee and reading. She fell into me with her toothless smile. "Finally it's the first day of spring!" she yawned as she fell onto my lap completely unaware of the coffee.
Question to those with older children: do they ever notice the cup of coffee in your hand before diving into a morning snuggle? I've become incredibly skilled at keeping the hot, caffeinated liquid inside the mug with a wiggling child on lap.
Indeed it's spring. Finally! I think we always feel a bit that way with every season. We love winter. We ski and sled and ice skate. We eat oats my the fire and resist getting out of our warm beds in the morning. And we look forward to spring. We dream of that day when will be able to stand in a non-breezy spot and, if the sun is directly on us, it actually feels warm.
:: The girls designed and made little creatures mostly all by themselves. Margot has decided that even if she doesn't make enough money she wants to work with owl research and rescue. Specifically she'd like to "study them and cure them when they are injured." Bob wants to BE a kitty when she grows up.
:: Moody spring hikes with friends have taken us up mountains. Our kids used to be on our backs and shoulders and now they run ahead of us begging us to hurry up.
:: I shared this on instagram but want to share here too because it's my new favorite trick: you can place the white roots of spent green onions in water and continue to harvest the greens for weeks and weeks! They just keep growing.
:: Andy has been planning to build a bench to sit on Alice's gardenside grave. Continue reading →
Andy’s alarm goes off for a full minute. It takes him a while to reach his phone to turn off the chirping because he threw his back out. He moves slowly, forcing inhales through the pain. I offer to help and he declines. The rain taps the metal roof just above our dry heads as we lay under down and linen in the dark. The furnace kicks on.
He gets up first, he always does. I hear the click of our espresso machine button. I feel around the floor for the hoodie I took off last night. I walk gently down the hall, avoiding the three floorboards that creak. Andy feverishly tunes the radio to NPR. Another terrorist attack. In Brussels, he says.
The familiar words reach our ears. I hate that they are familiar. Isis. Extremist. Suicide bomber. 26 dead. 30 dead. Retaliation. War. Terror. Terrorist. Terrorism.
The rain lets up. I feel the wetness in my bones. The heaviness of rain sinking into soil. Washing the streets clean, adding volume to rivers, feeding gardens. Relentlessly nourishing. Pure love. Steadfast. The cool, clear, generous liquid that gives everything life. Water is the antonym to Terror. Continue reading →
I am excited to invite you to The Artful Homestead: Digging Into Daily Ritual
I began imagining this a few years ago: a weekend focused on creativity and earthly awareness - with attention given to the whimsy and practicality of everyday acts. I envisioned working with the people who are passionate about things like baking bread, writing, yoga, gardening, poetry, deep breaths, art, music, canning jam, learning, doing, being. Together, camping and getting groovy with our homesteady selves, identifying our values and rituals.
It's manifesting this spring, collaboratively with my dear, old friend and exquisite photographer Paige Green
. You've heard me mention Paige many times before; she's my best friend of 20 years. Our first-ever Artful Homestead gathering is happening over Memorial Day weekend. Will you join us? Continue reading →
Spontaneous adventures are my jam. The kind that are casually planned over a post-ski beer and then happen the following day. I am enlivened when I'm "unprepared" -- when I get to dance about in the early morning hours fashioning road snacks out of back-of-the-pantry bits, feverishly gathering the pieces we will need and then leaving. As ready as I'll ever need to be.
I let the kids sleep, aiming to get the car all packed up and then scoop them straight from bed into their seats. Part of this plan is practical: I have to get a lot done to meet our 8am departure and if it's just me, hip hop and the to-dos it'll be lightening fast. And part of this plan is magical: I remember being 6 and 8 years old and I decide it would feel thrilling and cozy to climb from bed to carseat where my blanket, doll, bagel and open road await. Mom at the wheel.
photo by Ruby
We meet our friends and begin the caravan north along the fierce, alive Mission Mountains, through the Salish & Kootenai Reservation and then west along the turquoise blue Flathead River. We drive to Quinn's Hot Springs.
Ruby: How much longer?
Me: Ten minutes.
Ruby: How long is that?!
Margot: Not too long! Just count to 60, ten times.
Ruby: one two three four five six seven eight...
Margot: IN YOUR HEAD, PAL!
There are several hot springs around here and I've been to most more than once. Each has their own unique vibe and lore. Continue reading →