Christmas lights
a tree decorated
trees on car tops
the little spiral trees, an outdoor first
Christmas cards completed, finally
warm glowy lights on the mantel
good gutters, a delight!
stars in the sky that I can see
Christmas music by my own hands
Christmas music in the car--library finds with Erin
a peppermint milkshake on her last day of twelve
difficult days in sixth grade grammar that grow me too
a friend who listens in another state while I talk on a morning walk
courage to do hard things
getting hard things done
facing fear
a 2020 focus
returning writers on 66 Books
packages in the mail
a day out with Shane to shop for the kids
a glimpse of just us
a Christmas choir performance with friends
tickets to my favorite: A Christmas Carol
all the tears and heartache
a Father God who catches my tears
holes in my shoes
new favorite shirts gifted by Marshall's Mom
our friendship of ten years
stickers for the backs of envelopes
Andrea in Florida, her name hearted on our fridge
foggy morning runs
longer mornings with Erin while we are on yoga break
taco nights
that man of mine
my kiddos
Ruth
nights I actually get to sleep through
and nights I'm woken for potty breaks
candy canes
chocolate covered cherries, gluten free
how my girls have grown, so lovely
good podcasts
this year, a best
a good listener with a Southern accent
chocolate
Summer Mummers
recorders
juggling
concerts on the front lawn
friends in the mix
music
margin for opportunities
goals accomplished
good hair days
peace
a new(er) car
summer days at the pool
eight years here
twenty years married
cookouts
twinkle lights at the table
a job for Lanie
college concerts
photoshoots for friends
hikes
lunches with Anita
southbound geese
thirteen
Advent readings
hot fires
twenty-degree runs
hot chocolate with a friend
a ham gift (wow!)
good socks
clean clothes
boundaries
God's provision
Marshall's Mom
Christmas with Mummers
Keenan
guests at the Christmas table
good laughter
sweet potato casserole with marshmallows
hot tea
running shoes
his advice for the best gift I could give my family
grace
her name and home, honored
this love of home
and how we all don't want to go back to co-op because of what we treasure here
a 5k race, registered
goals for a new year
goals completed in this year
level ten
joy of the Spirit
kingdom focus
Tuesday, December 31, 2019
Sunday, December 29, 2019
Day story
December 2019
Outside my window, I've seen gorgeous morning starts this year. I reflect back on my daily views in 2019 from my seat at the school table--my favorite room in the house. Winter is my favorite season. I used to always love fall, but winter has a special barren beauty. Simple.
Giving thanks for so many things--a December contemplation of the past year. Of tears in a summer solstice yoga class for making it half way through the year. Of opportunities for Lanie to study with a new piano teacher (and to keep learning from a former teacher), the classes she took, getting her learner's, getting a job, and all the performances--she's a hard worker. Of the changes in the landscape as trees went down and a house went up--giving thanks in change, however it looks. Of time with Erin homeschooling and her newly rekindled love after so many attempts to spark it--Mummers! An accordion! A keyboard! It all worked. Thankful. Of all the miles I logged on these feet. Of all the tears I cried. Of one who has spoken plainly to me these years--and just very recently handed me a key of grace to a grace of sorts.
In the school room, it is rather tidied. We had Lanie's coworker and boss over for Christmas Eve dinner between services and it was a delight. The school room got a needed tidying. We are on a break from studies, but I find myself looking forward to picking up very soon in a place of order. New disciplines for me in discipline and excellence.
From the kitchen, I have been eating leftovers since Christmas Eve. It has been so wonderful to fly on autopilot this week. Planning meals for every day gets really tiring. I keep a notebook with meal ideas and book/pg numbers marked for easy reference. But it only works if I consult it. Working on that as well!
I am so very different from the me of three years ago. December was hard when Facebook wanted to assault me with old memories. But I sat with those memories and fresh tears. No regrets. Sometimes I wonder if I could if I would change the story in hindsight, but the more I sit with what it was, the more I realize what it all revealed. People all define success very differently--but I return to this again and again. Success is being who God created you to be--fully, freely, without apology. That is living in truth. That is freedom. It is success.
I don't want to forget anymore. And that is courage. That is growth.
I am reading slowly. I wanted to gobble up books on this break, but it has been filled with lots of games of No Stress Chess (oh my gosh, that game is so much fun!!!!) and naps and music and fires (and appointments too). Spending this last week of break preparing for a new year.
Around the house, tackling spaces in the name of purging and simplifying. A lot of that paused to wrap presents and soak in the season. Thank you, God.
I am hearing the hum of the heat. It is a whispering shush.
A view of my favorite things:
 |
| Preparing for 2020 |
 |
| December poetry tea |
 | ||
| Summer Mummers Winter Solstice--Mummers has created some of my very favorite memories of this year. |
Saturday, November 30, 2019
And still counting ... (13,671-13,739)
frost on the cars in the early morning
leaves along the path
starry night skies
a half-price deal on a pair of running shoes
marathon goals
the curls she put in my hair and how I felt transformed to youth in an instant
even if it only lasted five minutes before I headed out into the misty rain
a hike with Jackie and Vivi
warm fires at home
fall skies
a balaclava
Ruth
Donna
Rebecca
Becky
Nora
Marshall's Mom
a good day at co-op
a November music calendar
Lanie's piano recital
the college students in the row in front of us
one's comment to her after she finished
full days
organ music for a second service
a musical starring a friend's daughter
for memories that are pushed to the clouds
yoga
purging
thoughts on goals and a new year
a warm coat
coffee with cream and sugar
cookbooks from the library
66 Books
good podcasts
moody November skies
leaves caught in a breeze's lift
Erin at yoga
piano lessons from her
a four hands duet (Christmas music!)
mild days
new sunrise views
heart leaves on the ground
Summer Mummers: Winter
returning writers on 66 Books
another year in His Word
thoughts from The Matrix
puzzles on the floor
little girls with flower garlands and ribbon sticks
unicorn sprinkles for an afternoon tea and cake
Ruth waiting for me to go to bed
jingle sticks ordered
and tickets to my favorite holiday performance
December goals
January goals
a new word for a new year: value(s)
a long weekend with my man
crockpot turkey
keto pizza bites that Erin loved
laughter around the table under the yellow light glow
the delightful finds on the ornament trek: love to run, a sax, a piano, and a dancing ballet cat (Shane hasn't gotten an ornament for the past few years, so I "let" him get a run one for me this year--all in fun)
heat on the main floor
big leaves
the church choirs combined
big voices
the joy she had surprising a friend on his birthday
how his mama stepped out and snapped a photo--oh I laughed, kindred!
his bare feet on the porch
games around the kitchen table
that man of mine
leaves along the path
starry night skies
a half-price deal on a pair of running shoes
marathon goals
the curls she put in my hair and how I felt transformed to youth in an instant
even if it only lasted five minutes before I headed out into the misty rain
a hike with Jackie and Vivi
warm fires at home
fall skies
a balaclava
Ruth
Donna
Rebecca
Becky
Nora
Marshall's Mom
a good day at co-op
a November music calendar
Lanie's piano recital
the college students in the row in front of us
one's comment to her after she finished
full days
organ music for a second service
a musical starring a friend's daughter
for memories that are pushed to the clouds
yoga
purging
thoughts on goals and a new year
a warm coat
coffee with cream and sugar
cookbooks from the library
66 Books
good podcasts
moody November skies
leaves caught in a breeze's lift
Erin at yoga
piano lessons from her
a four hands duet (Christmas music!)
mild days
new sunrise views
heart leaves on the ground
Summer Mummers: Winter
returning writers on 66 Books
another year in His Word
thoughts from The Matrix
puzzles on the floor
little girls with flower garlands and ribbon sticks
unicorn sprinkles for an afternoon tea and cake
Ruth waiting for me to go to bed
jingle sticks ordered
and tickets to my favorite holiday performance
December goals
January goals
a new word for a new year: value(s)
a long weekend with my man
crockpot turkey
keto pizza bites that Erin loved
laughter around the table under the yellow light glow
the delightful finds on the ornament trek: love to run, a sax, a piano, and a dancing ballet cat (Shane hasn't gotten an ornament for the past few years, so I "let" him get a run one for me this year--all in fun)
heat on the main floor
big leaves
the church choirs combined
big voices
the joy she had surprising a friend on his birthday
how his mama stepped out and snapped a photo--oh I laughed, kindred!
his bare feet on the porch
games around the kitchen table
that man of mine
Day story
November 2019
Outside my window, from this seat, I enjoy what remains of the view of the woodland sunrise. Our new neighbor's house is almost complete, but if I lean left the slightest, from my seat, I can still see just woods.
Giving thanks for all this past year has been. Denise joined us at the table for Thanksgiving this year, and I'm glad. We had crockpot turkey breast, dressing, (overcooked) broccoli, mashed potatoes, sweet potato bake w/ marshmallows, pecan pie, vanilla ice cream, and pumpkin roll. We laughed at each other for likes and dislikes and it was all lighthearted and free. We played The Ungame, and I selected a question about which was the best year of my life. I have to say it has been this past year. I have loved all the years, especially as a mom, but this past year, I found freedom, excellence, and growth. And it was wonderful. Giving thanks.
In the school room, we are getting through the to-do. We had a November poetry tea, and I have one scheduled for December. We had friends over for knitting and puzzling and time together. We did hikes this month and saw performances. (And a few scheduled in December too!) Slowing to savor. It goes so fast. (I love filling our pages with heart stickers to check of completion. It looks like days full of love.)
From the kitchen, we are enjoying keto meals and mostly for Erin who is my vegetarian and pickiest eater. It takes a lot of work to try to get new foods she wants to try. But the keto pizza bites were a big hit. And I made a keto bread that was a high protein and fat--low carb.
I am grateful. I am grateful for gorgeous winter sunrises. For friends at the table. For freedom. For books, books, books. For French pop on the morning walks. For music and four-hand duets and recorder. For hot coffee with cream and sugar. For laughter. For hugs. I am so grateful. Level ten. It was always here. It was always here.
I don't want to forget to leave margin. Music snuck up on me as a pursuit this year while I was planning to pursue other things. And this is an important lesson. To pursue, yes, but to leave margin for other pursuits, the ones I don't even know of yet. Leave room for opportunity and possibility. Margin.
I am reading Beth Moore and dog training and I have a bag of books from the library because I want to read everything. How to play sax, and chess, and math/logic puzzles. And maybe this coming month Erin and I will actually read the scarf pattern and sew it.
Around the house, today we put up the Christmas tree. And last year, I vowed unknowingly to live level ten, to put up outside decorations, and last year bought something on clearance. This year, a first, of outside decorations. Cheesy corny twisting white light trees. Two of them. Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la. Ready for no place like home for the holidays. I played a Thanksgiving song on piano for Denise, and Erin and I have three Christmas songs in our repertoire, and that's all I ever wanted--to know enough to play music at Christmas. Level ten.
I am hearing the hum of the heat before I shoe up to run.
A view of my favorites:
 |
| Thanksgiving service |
 |
| my seat behind the choir |
 |
| new sunrise views |
 |
| November poetry tea |
 |
| poetry tea popcorn and brownies |
 |
| friends over |
 |
| four hands with Erin |
 |
| game changer |
 |
| November runs |
 |
| Thanksgiving |
 |
| Black Friday ornament shopping |
 |
| trees on car tops |
 |
| birthday surprise for a friend |
 |
| movie watching |
 |
| a visual of tasks completed |
At the table, I wasn't as prepared for Thanksgiving as I normally would have been. I didn't make soup. I didn't make a favorite dressing, instead I just went with the box mix. I overcooked the broccoli. But it was unrushed. There was laughter. And warmth. I think these past two years scared me because it fell like free fall from the past and I didn't know how far the fall went. I am accepting the fractures in life, the moments of things and even traditions being forever changed. Already, I am looking to Christmas, even before the turkey was sliced. To new traditions.
Sunday, November 24, 2019
In purpose, on purpose
Purpose was my word for the year. It helped me to define some boundaries and expectations.
What is my purpose as--a wife, a homeschool teacher, a mom, a trustee. Those answers really helped me to hone my focus and work on what matters. It's good to get clear on purpose.
Sometimes I asked more existential questions--what is the purpose of this trial? What is the purpose in light of eternity in my role in this issue?
It also helped me to set intentions--to do things on purpose. To follow through, because of purpose. To prepare, because of purpose. It's always good to remember your why.
Purpose helped me to remember my role as a homeschool mom to prioritize our time, to prepare for our lessons, and to do the very best I could to help my kids love learning by loving learning and bringing a good attitude to the table myself. Erin in particular has been struggling with piano lessons for a number of reasons. In the spring, we read about medieval mummers traveling and performing on the recorder. We have two recorders from the kindergarten days, and impulsively I asked Erin to teach me how to read music and we'd learn recorder together like the mummers--and we threw in juggling because we didn't know how to do that either (love Amazon Prime because we got recorder music in two days!). I wanted to spark her interest in music again. Our songs hooked Lanie and she joined us. And remembering a friend's retelling of a time when her child prepared for a recital and wondered, "What's it all for if no one comes?" Purpose.
We scheduled a recital and invited friends to play their instruments too. And that was the start of Summer Mummers. Music wasn't even a goal for me before medieval literature, at least, not in such an immediate way. (This year, I learned to juggle and to play recorder, tin whistle and piano. I took my saxophone in to get a check-up and they recommended replacing the pads, which cost more than just buying a new saxophone--so I took mine back home and discovered YouTube has instructionals on this. Guess who is going to learn to repad a sax? And the library had all kinds of helpful books on uke, which I do own and haven't worked with in almost three years since my dad died. But my point is--last year I played zero instruments. This year I played three.)
Living on purpose.
I tripled my running distance. I got focused on maturity and growth. I set intentions. I set goals. I found that level ten living was in my reach and that God has given me, already, all I need to live a godly life. When you KNOW you are equipped, you don't have to reinvent the wheel. You just have to start moving.
I'm going into my third year of goal getting. And I lost count how many years I've chosen a focus word for the year.
Purpose was good, and it's not over. I suspect it's an entity in itself, and I bring it with me on the journey.
On, on.
What is my purpose as--a wife, a homeschool teacher, a mom, a trustee. Those answers really helped me to hone my focus and work on what matters. It's good to get clear on purpose.
Sometimes I asked more existential questions--what is the purpose of this trial? What is the purpose in light of eternity in my role in this issue?
It also helped me to set intentions--to do things on purpose. To follow through, because of purpose. To prepare, because of purpose. It's always good to remember your why.
Purpose helped me to remember my role as a homeschool mom to prioritize our time, to prepare for our lessons, and to do the very best I could to help my kids love learning by loving learning and bringing a good attitude to the table myself. Erin in particular has been struggling with piano lessons for a number of reasons. In the spring, we read about medieval mummers traveling and performing on the recorder. We have two recorders from the kindergarten days, and impulsively I asked Erin to teach me how to read music and we'd learn recorder together like the mummers--and we threw in juggling because we didn't know how to do that either (love Amazon Prime because we got recorder music in two days!). I wanted to spark her interest in music again. Our songs hooked Lanie and she joined us. And remembering a friend's retelling of a time when her child prepared for a recital and wondered, "What's it all for if no one comes?" Purpose.
 |
| June 2019 |
 |
| July 2019 |
 |
| juggling! |
 |
| August 2019 |
We scheduled a recital and invited friends to play their instruments too. And that was the start of Summer Mummers. Music wasn't even a goal for me before medieval literature, at least, not in such an immediate way. (This year, I learned to juggle and to play recorder, tin whistle and piano. I took my saxophone in to get a check-up and they recommended replacing the pads, which cost more than just buying a new saxophone--so I took mine back home and discovered YouTube has instructionals on this. Guess who is going to learn to repad a sax? And the library had all kinds of helpful books on uke, which I do own and haven't worked with in almost three years since my dad died. But my point is--last year I played zero instruments. This year I played three.)
Living on purpose.
I tripled my running distance. I got focused on maturity and growth. I set intentions. I set goals. I found that level ten living was in my reach and that God has given me, already, all I need to live a godly life. When you KNOW you are equipped, you don't have to reinvent the wheel. You just have to start moving.
"There's a difference between knowing the path and walking the path." Morpheus, The Matrix.
I'm going into my third year of goal getting. And I lost count how many years I've chosen a focus word for the year.
Purpose was good, and it's not over. I suspect it's an entity in itself, and I bring it with me on the journey.
On, on.
 |
| Back by popular demand in time for Christmas. |
Friday, November 22, 2019
Simplify, just not whisks or cookbooks
I read a book by Emily Ley on simplifying spaces and life. I checked it out again recently for a refresher and started working on zones in my house to simplify. (And then I got a used copy of it off of Abe because I knew it was going to be a work in progress, and, because, books ...)
I removed books we'd recently read and read a long time ago from the bookshelves in the school room--leaving current school books, cookbooks, poetry and books to read on the shelves. I even have a space for one decoration! Hahaha.
I went through the dining room where I had stored Goodwill donations and took them to Goodwill. However, then after going through other rooms, filled the dining room back up with a new haul, still pending.
I went through my kitchen and took out items I would rarely use and put them in a storage area. Some things I donated to Goodwill. I made a little extra space. Anecdote: I once read about not having duplicates of things and this article in particular dealt with the kitchen: the author's advice was to have only one whisk. (Emily Ley recommends having 2-3 favorite cookbooks and I literally laughed out loud. I mentioned it to Erin, who then counted my cookbooks. "Mom, you have at least thirty." My categories are gluten free, paleo, keto, bento, tea, slow cooker, lunch, and picky eater.) As for one whisk, I may have snorted over that. I have three: two wire whisks and one silicone. It is not unheard of that I could use them all in one meal preparation. Keepers.
I went through the pantry with Erin's help to remove expired items and to return order to grouping like things. (I also like labels facing out. At the other house, a woman once opened my pantry door and commented that all my labels faced forward. I wasn't even aware I did it that way until she mentioned it. People, it makes sense.)
I'm not finished. Old curricula, broken toys, puzzles for littles, socks I no longer use, and dresses I bought fifteen years ago. Time to let go. Simplify. Make space for the things I love (and truly, don't you have a favorite sweater or shirt? In honesty, I have things I might wear once in a season because I love other things more. So now I focus on making space for the things I love more--including friends, activities, and sweaters. Also, three years ago, gray was my FAVORITE color and nearly every shirt I owned was gray. I got rid of all but one long sleeve and one short sleeve gray shirt because, well, that's another story.)
As for books and music, well, it's an issue. Shane once halfway joked that I was planning on bankrupting him $2.95 at a time (give or take. Abebooks.com has been my go-to place for buying all types of books for school and enjoyment--I'm staring at a stack of six books--to give as gifts--I have received in the past month. A current interest is in keto cookbooks because of a doctor's warning to me to watch my carbs--I usually check out cookbooks from the library first, and if I love them, I search for them used online. Last night we had a delightful Chinese chicken salad: red cabbage, broccoli, chicken, cashews, bean sprouts, cilantro, scallions, sesame seeds, and a Chinese dressing w/ coconut aminos, ginger, garlic, sesame oil and rice vinegar. Flavor explosion.)
I removed books we'd recently read and read a long time ago from the bookshelves in the school room--leaving current school books, cookbooks, poetry and books to read on the shelves. I even have a space for one decoration! Hahaha.
I went through the dining room where I had stored Goodwill donations and took them to Goodwill. However, then after going through other rooms, filled the dining room back up with a new haul, still pending.
I went through my kitchen and took out items I would rarely use and put them in a storage area. Some things I donated to Goodwill. I made a little extra space. Anecdote: I once read about not having duplicates of things and this article in particular dealt with the kitchen: the author's advice was to have only one whisk. (Emily Ley recommends having 2-3 favorite cookbooks and I literally laughed out loud. I mentioned it to Erin, who then counted my cookbooks. "Mom, you have at least thirty." My categories are gluten free, paleo, keto, bento, tea, slow cooker, lunch, and picky eater.) As for one whisk, I may have snorted over that. I have three: two wire whisks and one silicone. It is not unheard of that I could use them all in one meal preparation. Keepers.
I went through the pantry with Erin's help to remove expired items and to return order to grouping like things. (I also like labels facing out. At the other house, a woman once opened my pantry door and commented that all my labels faced forward. I wasn't even aware I did it that way until she mentioned it. People, it makes sense.)
I'm not finished. Old curricula, broken toys, puzzles for littles, socks I no longer use, and dresses I bought fifteen years ago. Time to let go. Simplify. Make space for the things I love (and truly, don't you have a favorite sweater or shirt? In honesty, I have things I might wear once in a season because I love other things more. So now I focus on making space for the things I love more--including friends, activities, and sweaters. Also, three years ago, gray was my FAVORITE color and nearly every shirt I owned was gray. I got rid of all but one long sleeve and one short sleeve gray shirt because, well, that's another story.)
As for books and music, well, it's an issue. Shane once halfway joked that I was planning on bankrupting him $2.95 at a time (give or take. Abebooks.com has been my go-to place for buying all types of books for school and enjoyment--I'm staring at a stack of six books--to give as gifts--I have received in the past month. A current interest is in keto cookbooks because of a doctor's warning to me to watch my carbs--I usually check out cookbooks from the library first, and if I love them, I search for them used online. Last night we had a delightful Chinese chicken salad: red cabbage, broccoli, chicken, cashews, bean sprouts, cilantro, scallions, sesame seeds, and a Chinese dressing w/ coconut aminos, ginger, garlic, sesame oil and rice vinegar. Flavor explosion.)
Saturday, November 2, 2019
And still counting (13,606-13,670)
wind chimes singing in an autumn breeze
three-mile runs
all the windows open
great blood pressure
savoring Tuesdays
real talks with my kids
seeing Rebecca and Asher in the world
hygge lights on the mantle
butternut squash soup with sage cream
an entire cookbook featuring soup
dresses in my closet
leaves along the lawn
schooling without walls
Comfort and Joy for an entire year
sixth grade rascals
the piano tuner's daughter
books on Renaissance
shopping with Erin
laughter in the car
tea with Rebecca in the overflow room
how our conversations contain depth that we hardly scratch the surface
tickets to a show
a piano performance
repertoire class
mummers
October weather
great lab results
progress
a hat for a 40+ something degree run
Nora and the miles we put in together
for moments to express gratitude for (her) presence in my life
the winter blanket on my bed
puffer vest jackets
sweater weather
flashlight running
a seat for PSAT
the church organ
southbound flying geese
a wild turkey crossing a city street
a waterproof windbreaker for rain runs
a groany dog at my feet
clean chimneys
warm clothes
space age slippers for my feet
an invitation to a piano/organ concert
Joanne
projects with Erin
Donna from church
Marshall's Mom
her kids on the playset
our friendship for ten years
a photoshoot in my yard
naps
a Robin Hood Halloween duo
homeschooling
a family day at the theater
a hike with friends (twice)
a last really warm day for a tank top run
a season's first hot fire
how Ruth was instantly in love with the heat and wouldn't budge
for God's peace
good savasana
warm clothes
new slippers for my feet
Andrea's heart on the fridge
three-mile runs
all the windows open
great blood pressure
savoring Tuesdays
real talks with my kids
seeing Rebecca and Asher in the world
hygge lights on the mantle
butternut squash soup with sage cream
an entire cookbook featuring soup
dresses in my closet
leaves along the lawn
schooling without walls
Comfort and Joy for an entire year
sixth grade rascals
the piano tuner's daughter
books on Renaissance
shopping with Erin
laughter in the car
tea with Rebecca in the overflow room
how our conversations contain depth that we hardly scratch the surface
tickets to a show
a piano performance
repertoire class
mummers
October weather
great lab results
progress
a hat for a 40+ something degree run
Nora and the miles we put in together
for moments to express gratitude for (her) presence in my life
the winter blanket on my bed
puffer vest jackets
sweater weather
flashlight running
a seat for PSAT
the church organ
southbound flying geese
a wild turkey crossing a city street
a waterproof windbreaker for rain runs
a groany dog at my feet
clean chimneys
warm clothes
space age slippers for my feet
an invitation to a piano/organ concert
Joanne
projects with Erin
Donna from church
Marshall's Mom
her kids on the playset
our friendship for ten years
a photoshoot in my yard
naps
a Robin Hood Halloween duo
homeschooling
a family day at the theater
a hike with friends (twice)
a last really warm day for a tank top run
a season's first hot fire
how Ruth was instantly in love with the heat and wouldn't budge
for God's peace
good savasana
warm clothes
new slippers for my feet
Andrea's heart on the fridge
Monday, October 28, 2019
INFP in me
I have saved several knitting patterns.
The gorgeous tonal blanket.
The soft, cushy cowl. (I don't wear cowls, but if I did, I would make this one and wear it.)
The big good blanket. Because once it rains and rains leaves in October, all I want is a very warm drink by a very warm fire under a very warm blanket (that I perhaps made, but haven't yet) with a very good book, or at least a very good hour nap.
The falling snow scarf. I double-tap liked it on Instagram before I even realized it was sent to my inbox were I may have winced from wonder and want.
I have clicked on all these patterns, the latest being the falling snow scarf. I was immediately overcome with spinning head at the lengthy directions and a pattern. And yet I still wondered if this might perchance fall under the Easy Beginner category. Hahaha. Because I'm a staggering still recovering flawed optimist who easily over commits (to service, dates, and projects of all sorts--and this is at deadly odds with the introvert in me who is napping while my mouth is all, "I could do that!" See below.).
Anyway, I even clicked on the yarn bundles and choked at the cost of the yarns I will likely never buy until I know that I know that I know that I know I could knit these projects without error. And considering I have never finished a knitting project of any merit on my own, well, let's just hold a moment of silence for another fading fantasy.
But if I could live a thousand lives, I would buy a soothing bundle and make myself a big good blanket, falling snow, cushy cowl, and tonal blanket. I would. And I might gift a special friend one as well, in the delightful yarn.
I would take fencing lessons and broadsword lessons.
I would play chess.
I would play the piano.
I would book a weekend in a tucked away cabin that has electricity, with either a best friend and/or my pink goal planner and I would wander trails and ponder life and confront the demons once and for all.
I would take an art class.
I would spend a month in another country. In the mountains. With glass walls that look out to the valleys. And there might be snow. Or water.
I would train for a marathon.
I would learn how to use Lightroom.
I would photoshop my family and me into friends' vacation photos and post them to see if they notice. Erin and I find that ridiculously amusing.
I would clean the school room and have my home company ready. And it wouldn't smell like stinky damp basement or too many dogs.
If I had a thousand INFP lives, I would do so much.
(Here's a secret: I can start a knit project this year and finish it this year. It might not be the best thing I've ever done, but if I keep at it, buying quality yarn one day, at least once, is a very real possibility. I can teach Erin how to play chess and then I will have someone to play chess with me. In five years, Erin will be graduated and I can take music lessons for myself. I could book a cabin tomorrow for any date in the future and MAKE IT HAPPEN. I can take an art class with my friend Suzanne. I can start training for a marathon and be ready to run it in five years when Erin is graduated, as a gift to myself. As for broadsword, Lightroom, photoshopping, living abroad, and a clean and non-dog house, those things may need to wait a bit longer.)
(November goal: Learn to play chess and teach Erin.)
(December goal: Knit something from start to finish.)
(Daily goal: Keep on running. You've got a marathon to run in 2025.)
The gorgeous tonal blanket.
The soft, cushy cowl. (I don't wear cowls, but if I did, I would make this one and wear it.)
The big good blanket. Because once it rains and rains leaves in October, all I want is a very warm drink by a very warm fire under a very warm blanket (that I perhaps made, but haven't yet) with a very good book, or at least a very good hour nap.
The falling snow scarf. I double-tap liked it on Instagram before I even realized it was sent to my inbox were I may have winced from wonder and want.
I have clicked on all these patterns, the latest being the falling snow scarf. I was immediately overcome with spinning head at the lengthy directions and a pattern. And yet I still wondered if this might perchance fall under the Easy Beginner category. Hahaha. Because I'm a staggering still recovering flawed optimist who easily over commits (to service, dates, and projects of all sorts--and this is at deadly odds with the introvert in me who is napping while my mouth is all, "I could do that!" See below.).
Anyway, I even clicked on the yarn bundles and choked at the cost of the yarns I will likely never buy until I know that I know that I know that I know I could knit these projects without error. And considering I have never finished a knitting project of any merit on my own, well, let's just hold a moment of silence for another fading fantasy.
But if I could live a thousand lives, I would buy a soothing bundle and make myself a big good blanket, falling snow, cushy cowl, and tonal blanket. I would. And I might gift a special friend one as well, in the delightful yarn.
I would take fencing lessons and broadsword lessons.
I would play chess.
I would play the piano.
I would book a weekend in a tucked away cabin that has electricity, with either a best friend and/or my pink goal planner and I would wander trails and ponder life and confront the demons once and for all.
I would take an art class.
I would spend a month in another country. In the mountains. With glass walls that look out to the valleys. And there might be snow. Or water.
I would train for a marathon.
I would learn how to use Lightroom.
I would photoshop my family and me into friends' vacation photos and post them to see if they notice. Erin and I find that ridiculously amusing.
I would clean the school room and have my home company ready. And it wouldn't smell like stinky damp basement or too many dogs.
If I had a thousand INFP lives, I would do so much.
(Here's a secret: I can start a knit project this year and finish it this year. It might not be the best thing I've ever done, but if I keep at it, buying quality yarn one day, at least once, is a very real possibility. I can teach Erin how to play chess and then I will have someone to play chess with me. In five years, Erin will be graduated and I can take music lessons for myself. I could book a cabin tomorrow for any date in the future and MAKE IT HAPPEN. I can take an art class with my friend Suzanne. I can start training for a marathon and be ready to run it in five years when Erin is graduated, as a gift to myself. As for broadsword, Lightroom, photoshopping, living abroad, and a clean and non-dog house, those things may need to wait a bit longer.)
(November goal: Learn to play chess and teach Erin.)
(December goal: Knit something from start to finish.)
(Daily goal: Keep on running. You've got a marathon to run in 2025.)
Tuesday, October 22, 2019
Day story
October 2019
Outside my window it is dark, dark, dark. Two days of no exercise because of rain and apathy (and quite honestly, exhaustion). I tell myself today to take back this Tuesday. Take it back. Put on the shoes. And at least it will be mild. Self, get your shoes on. (It should be frightening to see how quickly one can lose ground.)
Giving thanks for so many rich opportunities. A fall hike with friends and a trail that felt good on my legs. A Sunday treat of Lanie playing the organ--a surprise for the second-service congregation and a delight! We saw Phantom of the Opera--and only because of Erin and how it would fill her heart. I cried at the organ's dramatic and full start--grateful to be sitting there with my family. Grateful to be having that experience. And just last night, an invitation to a private concert of musicians Lanie knows, she and I sat on the red cushion pews for a piano and organ treat--wow, wow! So much talent in that room.
In the school room, we await the visit from the chimney sweeper this week. It has been chilly in the house. I'm wearing slippers and a jacket. Sometimes I wear a hat. We broke down when household temperatures dipped to 60 degrees, and we turned on the heat. What a luxury--heat. Looking forward to wood smoke smells and the delicious warmth that fills the space. This morning I held my coffee mug in my hands and it is not lost on me how wonderful the little things are. Gifts, all.
From the kitchen, peanut butter blossom cookies. My favorite combination. Yesterday, Erin topped the cookies with chocolate kisses and thought it was so novel. (Note the obvious conflict here between this entry and the one a few sections down in reading...)
I am sniffling. Lanie has had a cold for over a week, and it wants to take hold of me. Thankfully not to the same extent she's had to endure. Just a sniffle here and a sneeze there for me. Maybe that's part of the exhaustion. And the fact that I have not slept through the night in years (not joking).
I don't want to forget this year. So much transformation. I got another Powersheets goal planner for 2020. Next year will be my third year doing it. Level ten living is so very possible.
Around the house, leaves. It's so very fall outside. Thinking on October, November, December. Of traditions and possibilities.
I am reading a lot of low-carb cookbooks, not because of the trend in keto, but because my doctor told me I was a cookie away from pre-diabetes and I need to pay attention to carbs. Our table has always been full of rice and potatoes since we've gone gluten free. Time to rethink my choices.
A view of my favorite things ...
 |
| birds overhead |
 |
| Miss Doris is 91 |
 |
| Lanie turns 17 |
 |
| bench on the hike |
 |
| before the show |
 |
| after the show |
 |
| organ! |
At the table, is it too soon to be dreaming of Christmas? This season is so full of feasting. Birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas, a New Year. What will it look like this year? Still finding my way.
Saturday, October 12, 2019
Sound waves
I sat in that music room as each student approached the piano and began to play. The instructor called students up, starting with beginner to more advanced. I listened to the hesitance of newer students. I studied their faces as they played by memory, some of them, mistakes showing up in grimaces of frustration. One student even uttered apologies.
Some songs played haltingly with lurches and pauses. Other songs played boldly marching. Some sounded like water rushing and rippling over rocks in a stream, bubbling and babbling. I sat in wonder.
Ian played Beethoven--Joanne's favorite. I have loved the Beethoven pieces Lanie has played, but Ian's were new to me. I listened to the funeral piece, and one other titled something I can't remember. I marveled at this old-to-us music, complicated and rich. Marveled at music through the ages, that man would craft devices that produced beautiful sound, instruments of keys and strings and pedals. Who dreamed these things? Who built these things? Did they ever wonder of their influence on eternity? A marvel.
Beethoven's song still plays and students, musicians around the world and all this time studying the notes, worrying the tricky spots, trying to achieve the perfection. I imagined this master composing and hustling and the humility of performing for untrained ears--did they know they were in the presence of greatness? Did he instruct beginner students? Did those wrong notes, those halting, lurching fingers marching across the keys cause him to cringe? Did he count it loss?
We sit and learn, each generation, the things of former times and new things too, to pass down. Passing down. Passing down. Building upon slowly, passing down. Like the epic poems sung--do not forget. We spend our lives forgetting and trying not to forget.
3 What do people gain from all their labors
at which they toil under the sun?
4 Generations come and generations go,
but the earth remains forever.
5 The sun rises and the sun sets,
and hurries back to where it rises.
6 The wind blows to the south
and turns to the north;
round and round it goes,
ever returning on its course.
7 All streams flow into the sea,
yet the sea is never full.
To the place the streams come from,
there they return again.
8 All things are wearisome,
more than one can say.
The eye never has enough of seeing,
nor the ear its fill of hearing.
9 What has been will be again,
what has been done will be done again;
there is nothing new under the sun.
10 Is there anything of which one can say,
“Look! This is something new”?
It was here already, long ago;
it was here before our time.
11 No one remembers the former generations,
and even those yet to come
will not be remembered
by those who follow them. (Ecclesiastes 1:2-11, NIV)
Some songs played haltingly with lurches and pauses. Other songs played boldly marching. Some sounded like water rushing and rippling over rocks in a stream, bubbling and babbling. I sat in wonder.
Ian played Beethoven--Joanne's favorite. I have loved the Beethoven pieces Lanie has played, but Ian's were new to me. I listened to the funeral piece, and one other titled something I can't remember. I marveled at this old-to-us music, complicated and rich. Marveled at music through the ages, that man would craft devices that produced beautiful sound, instruments of keys and strings and pedals. Who dreamed these things? Who built these things? Did they ever wonder of their influence on eternity? A marvel.
Beethoven's song still plays and students, musicians around the world and all this time studying the notes, worrying the tricky spots, trying to achieve the perfection. I imagined this master composing and hustling and the humility of performing for untrained ears--did they know they were in the presence of greatness? Did he instruct beginner students? Did those wrong notes, those halting, lurching fingers marching across the keys cause him to cringe? Did he count it loss?
We sit and learn, each generation, the things of former times and new things too, to pass down. Passing down. Passing down. Building upon slowly, passing down. Like the epic poems sung--do not forget. We spend our lives forgetting and trying not to forget.
2 “Meaningless! Meaningless!”
says the Teacher.
“Utterly meaningless!
Everything is meaningless.”
says the Teacher.
“Utterly meaningless!
Everything is meaningless.”
at which they toil under the sun?
4 Generations come and generations go,
but the earth remains forever.
5 The sun rises and the sun sets,
and hurries back to where it rises.
6 The wind blows to the south
and turns to the north;
round and round it goes,
ever returning on its course.
7 All streams flow into the sea,
yet the sea is never full.
To the place the streams come from,
there they return again.
8 All things are wearisome,
more than one can say.
The eye never has enough of seeing,
nor the ear its fill of hearing.
9 What has been will be again,
what has been done will be done again;
there is nothing new under the sun.
10 Is there anything of which one can say,
“Look! This is something new”?
It was here already, long ago;
it was here before our time.
11 No one remembers the former generations,
and even those yet to come
will not be remembered
by those who follow them. (Ecclesiastes 1:2-11, NIV)
Tuesday, October 1, 2019
And still counting (13,532-13,605)
that he would wake to an adventure unaware
an elephant ride
a day out with my people
gorgeous weather
a pause before the hustle
back to everything
a woman's public apology that brought me to tears
gratitude for her humility
hope
a belt for the tractor
pumpkin bread on a first day at home
Erin at yoga with me
when a friend texts to get together
a chilly morning
roasting sticks on sale
handshakes for four
Rebecca, who speaks encouragement in disappointing situations
jingle sticks
a big bag of Comfort and Joy
3-mile days
a large cutting deck
last swims
hangman on the whiteboard in grammar
and the phrase he wrote
food gifts from Denise
Ruth napping at my feet
a photoshoot during choir practice
the familiar feelings of the creative surge
leggings with trimmed in the state flag pattern
all the older women in the congregation
how even hard situations have a blessing in them if you look closely enough
Tuesdays, taken back with Erin
clarity from the lawyer
the comfiest pair of heels I've ever worn
mums in bloom in her front garden
a pool closed
a bonfire with Ruth running around us
tin whistle Christmas songs
and Silent Night on the recorder with Erin
the man in the line in front of me who looked like my dad
that Shane was with me in that moment and saw it too
for another man who cared for his wife with dimentia
two nights of over eight hours of sleep
coffee urns steps from the elevator
safe travels
an animal show we sat through twice to her delight
the best September breezes and blue sky
a gorgeous and tasty cobb salad
colorful birds swarming cups of nectar in our hands
a trip back in time
the drum and fife parade
a carriage ride
the governor's palace
running shoes unexpectedly left home
the old church
organ music at night
the shuttle bus
flip flops
chocolate coconut bread
peanut butter blossoms
a wooden recorder
and colonial tunes playbook
big fro-yo for dinner
walking into a quiet house
time away with my people
a Monday morning 5K
hygge gifts in the mail
the freedom from the approval of man
kingdom focus
the writers on 66 Books
flowers delivered in person
satsuma and socks gifted at the door
a normal family vacation
a text from Tracey
an elephant ride
a day out with my people
gorgeous weather
a pause before the hustle
back to everything
a woman's public apology that brought me to tears
gratitude for her humility
hope
a belt for the tractor
pumpkin bread on a first day at home
Erin at yoga with me
when a friend texts to get together
a chilly morning
roasting sticks on sale
handshakes for four
Rebecca, who speaks encouragement in disappointing situations
jingle sticks
a big bag of Comfort and Joy
3-mile days
a large cutting deck
last swims
hangman on the whiteboard in grammar
and the phrase he wrote
food gifts from Denise
Ruth napping at my feet
a photoshoot during choir practice
the familiar feelings of the creative surge
leggings with trimmed in the state flag pattern
all the older women in the congregation
how even hard situations have a blessing in them if you look closely enough
Tuesdays, taken back with Erin
clarity from the lawyer
the comfiest pair of heels I've ever worn
mums in bloom in her front garden
a pool closed
a bonfire with Ruth running around us
tin whistle Christmas songs
and Silent Night on the recorder with Erin
the man in the line in front of me who looked like my dad
that Shane was with me in that moment and saw it too
for another man who cared for his wife with dimentia
two nights of over eight hours of sleep
coffee urns steps from the elevator
safe travels
an animal show we sat through twice to her delight
the best September breezes and blue sky
a gorgeous and tasty cobb salad
colorful birds swarming cups of nectar in our hands
a trip back in time
the drum and fife parade
a carriage ride
the governor's palace
running shoes unexpectedly left home
the old church
organ music at night
the shuttle bus
flip flops
chocolate coconut bread
peanut butter blossoms
a wooden recorder
and colonial tunes playbook
big fro-yo for dinner
walking into a quiet house
time away with my people
a Monday morning 5K
hygge gifts in the mail
the freedom from the approval of man
kingdom focus
the writers on 66 Books
flowers delivered in person
satsuma and socks gifted at the door
a normal family vacation
a text from Tracey
 |
| the pet tricks were so entertaining we went twice |
 |
| swarmed by colorful birds |
 |
| it all changed when it got dark |
 |
| the Governor's Palace |
 |
| a carriage ride |
 |
| fro-yo |
 |
| organ music in a historical church |
 |
| her selfie surprises on my phone |
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| fifty |
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