Restorative

I spent most of July learning how to breathe. I got my own bolster and blankets, and I learned how to lean back and open my heart and just be.

Restorative.

I found myself fidgety sometimes, from too much caffeine, or too much thought, or too much built up in my muscles to let go. I had to learn to quiet my body. I had to learn to quiet my mind.

This year has been one long fight for peace.

I put my phone on mute. I put my face in a book. I got outside--in the garden or running or walking.

I am learning to let my mind go elsewhere. I am learning to breathe and lean back and open my heart and just be.

In August, I'm focusing on life-giving relationships and cultivating the things that matter. I'm taking quiet a step further and doing more image-based than word-based posts. 

And still counting (12,273-12,320)

cancelled plans
a movie day with the kids
a comfy bed

breaks in the rain for running
and a break in rain for getting Ruth from the vet and getting her into the house
restored power in the outage
the best-ever homemade pickles gifted from a friend
a day out with friends for Lanie

and her smile back at the past
the cool art on her hand
Ruth back at my feet
birdsong when it's still dark
everything about Shane

the neighbor who slowed to roll down his car window and wish me a good morning
cardinal crossing at the street
the difference here makes
a sunny afternoon for cutting the grass
field fragrance

texts with Marshall's Mom
(cook)book finds at a great price
a sunny weekend
talks at the table with my man
this very good life

yogurts in the fridge
books at the library
Wang Chung in concert (still!)
walnuts, a big bag
the French fry slicer

everything this house has been
this school room
the captain's bell
the gardens
a pool where my kids both learned to swim confidently

the woods
woodland sounds
nearly seven years here
good neighbors
the way the upstairs smells in summer

silence
a bowling date on the calendar with Marshall's Mom
her friendship
her integrity
for a new friend at church for Erin

who hugged Erin goodbye when we left
and who didn't "ditch" her when she found out Erin is homeschooled (Erin's words)
Erin's animated, giggly recounting of her time at church
hours in the front garden weeding
breakfast for dinner

Replaced the 6-qt stock pot. Thanks, God!

Spay day!

At the movies, girls' day!

Friend art.

Homemade pickles--I could have eaten this jar of them for dinner, they were so good!

Together again. Friends since elementary school.

The Elizabethan Collar

On the edge of oblivion

Most of the people I follow on Instagram are people I don't know: food stylists, lunch packers, woodland photographers, homeschoolers, writers, Jesus freaks, hashtags. From time to time, one of these folks will share something someone else posted and I'll check them out, and maybe I'll follow them too if I like their style.

Yesterday, I scrolled by an image of a mom and her littles. I miss that time of life so much. They were the easiest and best times. As I mentioned to a friend, it's not that teen and preteen years are hard or bad. But little hands to hold, cookie baking, play date making, ice creams, berry picking, cuddles, and all the books--it was precious. (We lived a good and lovely life, my children.) I ache for those days sometimes. (Before all the deaths and all the hard things and heartache and because of all the deaths and all the hard things and heartache.)

I (still) wish we had had more children.

***

I will be a grandmother this year. Shane's oldest son and his wife are expecting their first child any week now. I wonder if I will get a grandma name, or like Miss Linda, if I will just get a polite title. I keep trying to knit a baby hat for this little guy. I will probably cry when I hold him.

***

This afternoon making lunch, an old tune got in my head. I looked it up on Youtube and stuck my phone in a bowl to make the sound louder. Pump Up the Jam. I danced in the kitchen. Lanie looked away from me. Erin laughed. I ended up taking my lunch and bowl of Jam into the school room to finish grooving out to some of the happiest melodies of my youth.

Ice, Ice, Baby. Pump Up the Volume. Everybody Have Fun Tonight (Wang Chung). 

All the world is Babylon ...

I never liked dancing when I was younger. If I went back in time knowing what I know now, I'd be a very different person.

And all the love and ev'ryone
A ship of fools sailing on

***

Shortly after my mom died in my young twenties, I went through a bit of an identity crisis. I don't really talk about what happened. But it sets me apart. Bold and fearless.

When my dad died, the crisis hit harder, and not so much the girl-in-the-box of "who am I now" like when my mom died, but more along the lines of "this is who I am and who I am going to be." (Maybe it wasn't so much a crisis after all, but a breakthrough.) Determined. Focused. Intentional.

***

Every day I put on running shoes and run.

Every. Day.

I'm not running away. I'm running toward. 

(And every day is two words, unless you mean ordinary, and then it's everyday. And I'm learning to see that nothing is ordinary.) 

***

Groove is in the Heart ... Song after song on autoplay, Erin says, "I'm guessing you know this song too?"

"I know them all," I tell her.

***

June focus: HEALTH. July focus: HOME. August focus: HAPPINESS.

Everybody have fun tonight. Everybody Wang Chung tonight.  

Most of my drafts sit gathering dust. Most of my thoughts are too close to the canyon's edge. 

Doing something new in August.
 

And still counting (12245-12,272)

Connie

walks to the mailbox with my kids
the smell of clean laundry
cherries in the fridge
Caesar dressing, homemade
freshly grated Parmesan cheese

book stacks for fall
home days
July goals
the blue box for the France fund
hot tea in a mug

lessons learned in the overlook and the stand-up
gentle rains
twelve pounds gone
time at the library for lesson planning
time carved for myself

learning to breathe
a book of 500 things to do with your kids
and a list and motivation to go do them
Shane's patience and thoughtful responses to a tired tale
audiobooks for daily walks

another new Sunday view
thunderstorms in the afternoon
zinnias
Erin's pizza she made for dinner for her and Lanie
progress

Tracey's text
August ponderings

Erin made the whole shebang

afternoon thunderstorms and she reads Anne of Green Gables

listing final thoughts near July's end, and considering August

Day story

July

Outside my window, a gentle rain. It's been dry lately, grasses spot browned and slow growing, ground parched and cracked in places.  I walked the pup in the rain, and it was gentle and cold and refreshing. The perfect day for a blanket and a hot mugga. The perfect day to weed in the front garden or tend home--and all of it, tending.

Giving thanks for respite. A quiet phone, and muted now. I leave it behind on runs or walks. I mute it in the meditation. I take a break, and I wonder at the marvel of technology--maybe it steals time more than it adds to it. This month, too, I've carved out certain days on the calendar to focus just on home, and maybe one a week is not enough.

In the school room I pour through cookbooks and make plans, looking into August and September. A school year on the horizon, and I am hunkered in preparation--we consider the extra curricular activities, the travels, the plans--and I make plans of my own for lessons and meals and moments. Making the most of this time. Grateful.

From the kitchen, lots of recipes in queue, but today a simple sandwich. I plan for grab-and-go snacks for the kids. This all makes me happy. It is a sweet privilege to feed people, to have them sit at my table. And even more so, my children. This time is fleeting. There's no place like home.

I am celebrating progress. A June month focus on health led me to the Lose It! app, meditation, committed running and walking and weight loss. A July focus on home led to work in the gardens, service to my family, time to tend this place for my family and friends, and it's all joy.  All. Joy.

I don't want to forget the lessons I've learned this year. They aren't always pretty lessons. But they are good lessons. There is growth, so it is not loss.

Around the house, hygge in effect. As a home focus, I looked to enrich the senses--sight, touch, taste, smell, sound (and spirit). Working the gardens. I got a couple of blankets (in gray!) that are perfect for chilly mornings/nights and napping. In the yard, I stacked the garden lights my dad made for me. They are rotted from the foundation and falling over and I am throwing them away. We will replace them with new lights. I am preparing to launder and pack up the blankets he had given me. I have replaced them with new (gray ones), because I cannot stay wrapped in grief. Melting wax for fall's fire starters. Focusing on home.

I am hearing weekend home sounds. Soft rainfall. Birdsong. The radio.

A view of my favorite things:

Home focus. Homemade (gf) blueberry muffins. And a cinnamon chip muffy for a girl who doesn't like baked fruit.

by Erin

She wears dresses almost daily.

Celebrating progress!

Zinnias new to the garden this year. I love them.

Tackling the front garden sola. Thought long on priorities and promises. Got a lot done.

At the table lunch for four. Lanie and Erin made their own, but I toasted up (gf) bread for Shane and me, topped with Wegman's garlic hummus, zesty sprouts, tomato, avocado, spicy jack cheese, and bacon. It was yummy. I am full (in so many ways).

And still counting (12214-12,244)

for a same-day doctor appointment
dirt out of her eye

summer days
lunch with Sandy
good reads
books at the library
movies too

popcorn and Blue Planet
church requests
coral running shoes
good sleep
66 Books

Tuesdays blocked and sacred
tending home
a good deal on exercise clothes
school year plans outlined and underway
homeschooling

a bolster in slate
the comfy blankets in gray
a 12-minute mile (down from 20 minutes!)
that man of mine
time with my kids

baby owls swooping in front of the house at dusk
a glimpse of one along the forest border in the morning
weeds to pull
Micah's piano recital
and the sweet tribute song to his mama

her tears
a new church view
the cardinals in the yard
a class in the morning!

And still counting (12,179-12,213)

cold coffee
June's 8 lb loss

the ability to run across the parking lot and not be winded
good smells in the house (Beautiful Day and something with linen)
clean laundry
the tidy
air conditioning

the constant reminders of Psalm 16, everywhere
timely songs
chats with Tracey
days on the calendar circled and saved just to tend home
10k step goals blown away

that man of mine
Ruth asleep on my foot
a dental check up
food in the fridge
yogurt pops

running shirts on sale, in the mail
a focus on purpose and the desire to run (this life) well
the afternoon snack, Lanie made brownies
ice water
friends at the table

the (super soft) baby alpaca yarn (in gray!) in the mail
baby hat patterns
Ruth in the field, snapping up lightning bugs (chomp! chomp!)
dogs at my feet awaiting cheese cubes
her new bike, and biking trails in our future

Summer trails, here we come!

It IS all the happiness in a kit

#weareknitters

Softest yarn.

She is always at my side

a fun morning out with Lanie for a haircut
a cool morning run after a week of big heat
stick in the field with Ruth
a most delightful Saturday with the family
an evening bonfire

the fire was huge and hot

the first smells of woodsmoke
marshmallows to roast
that man of mine

Wonderful life

I laced up my shoes and headed out into the coolness of an early morning. I breathed in for eight footfalls, and breathed out for eight footfalls. I rounded the corner of the driveway, and breathed in for six footfalls, and out for six footfalls. By the time I was at the top of the driveway, in for three, out for two. Finding rhythm. (Now running two months, starting a third.)

The air was cool and fresh. Birdsong clear and jubilant. Quiet along the streets. I looked at the ground in front of my feet because the sun was shining in my sight line. Bright day. Neighbors in their homes, weekend morning hush. Summer.

***

Yesterday, full of the necessary, but at the end, I found time for the kids to get into the pool, and just before Shane drove up, I suited up too and joined them. Blue sky. Blue pool. Their smiles and laughter. I tried to smile too. In the house, taco feast and I cut off lengths of stem to put sunflowers in a vase. They were on sale at Wegmans, and I love fresh flowers in a vase (this, the farmhouse pitcher gifted to me by my dear friend Marshall's Mom).

There was a sweetness in my home, good smells, good feels, pleasant sights, happy hearts, wine in the fridge, and it was all of the Friday nights here--my heart ached for Linda. The geraniums waved above the window sills--welcome! Summer! (Another summer passes without her.)

***

I met a woman in a class who asked if I was on Facebook.

"Yes, but not so much anymore. I needed a break," I said.

"Yes, I understand. Seeing everyone live these great lives can make you feel less-than and wonder what you're doing wrong," she said.

I smiled politely. That is not my reason for backing away at all. As she spoke, I thought of my own life, my own presentation, the photos and experiences I've shared online and in social media. It's all real. Those aren't the highlights of my life--that is my life. It doesn't mean I don't struggle with things or have hard days, but those circumstances are just circumstances--they aren't my life. The laughter at the table, the swim dates with friends, all the love, all the joy, the journey--that is my life. I am so grateful for it.

***

My driveway turned into the woods and I followed. I looked around at weeds to pull and vines to cut, and the grass! Lots of home work this weekend for sure. None of it glamorous, but the rewards are rich.

***

I am thankful for this home-sweet-home, this hidden haven, my kids, my husband, my friends. I am thankful for the people in my inner circle who are trustworthy to hear the hard days and offer perspective or encouragement or prayer. My husband's arms around me, his embrace--our life together. My kids and this time with them, the sweet privilege and honor and treasure of being their mother. I cherish it all.

July-December

It is worth fighting for--my family, my home, my health, peace. These are my things to steward. My children talk of traditions and special occasions and it's like they pick from a feast of experience the things they want to take with them into their futures. This is my reward. This is my legacy. (I know if I take my sights off what matters, my legacy could look very different.)

***

Two fat wild turkeys crossed the driveway the other morning. Owls sounded in the woods. Frogs croaked and sang at the pool.

⁵ Lord, you alone are my inheritance, my cup of blessing.
    You guard all that is mine.
⁶ The land you have given me is a pleasant land.
    What a wonderful inheritance! Psalm 16:5-6, NLT

What a wonderful life.

(Your life is wonderful too! Enjoy it. This post was written last Saturday.)

And still counting (12,138-12,178)

the way I felt after yoga
a mat in the mail
the refreshing of my soul

cold coffee with cream and sugar
running
a dance card, full
friends at the pool
frogs crashing the party (this year, Thomas, Augustine, Octavian and Autumn)

Marshall's Mom, dear friend and accountability partner
Shane's yes at the joy in my face
Ruth at my feet
quieting of thoughts
laughter in the audiobooks (Pride and Prejudice for the daily walk)

the summer hustle
big turkeys crossing the driveway!
her first day on the job
big grins and bouncing joy
an hour's walk on the trails

popcorn in my teeth
a boy named Stellar who smiled
Erin's berry-stained hands
watermelon
Sofia

shady spots on the driveway walk to get the mail
the way the pool cools us down
baby owls in the woods
chocolate covered frozen bananas
coffee

three blueberries from our own bush for three of us
new flip-flops
ice water
a good chat with Lori
a wonderful life

honest talks and ugly cries
good sleep
Denise at the table
game night for five
the lightning bugs

sunflowers in a vase
the Friday night dinner feeling of all the years
everything this place has been