And still counting ... (14,106-14,205)

for a screenplay win
two delighted kids
a fun afternoon
5 miles on Wednesdays
root touch-up kits packaged pretty

azaleas in bloom
Misfits Market deliveries
a full fridge
that man of mine
two good dogs

spring filling in
the blessing that had me in tears (this! this! this! thank you!)
a God who speaks over me, sings over me
a God who knows my heart and what I need
welcome, safe, loved, included in Him

her request for the home cut
garlic bread
creamer in a glass bottle
finding the key in the field--only You, God
finding a Wonder Woman rock in the garden

the little girl delivering it, tentatively walking along the stone path to find the perfect hiding spot (several of us saw her and turned our heads to not spoil the surprise)
the sweetest oranges
celery in my chicken salad
reading in the sunshine on the patio
good running socks

the greening of everything
cinnamon sprinkled on my coffee
sun on my skin during the grass cutting
warmth
the last updates on the HAS for the school year

sixth grade grammar
a class of boys who taught me a lot about sixth grade boys
Exploding Kittens card games
individualized handshakes
Xero shoes sandals, on sale

laundry getting caught up
clean floors
windows open
schooling on the couch
fires in the woodstoves

the symphony of song predawn
drizzle days
oregano in the garden
spying her finding the heart rock and picking it up
fleece hoodies

bright red cardinals against a lush green backdrop
gentle breezes
windchimes
burgers on the grill
birthday cupcakes for him

a nap on the couch
family games around the table
wrapping up last classes
read alouds with Erin
a document, signed and mailed

that song, The Blessing
the writers on 66 Books
1 Peter 1
5-mile runs
rest days

root touch up kits curbside
Trader Joe's
gluten-free cupcakes
coconut amino acids
vanilla meringues

movie afternoon with popcorn, all of us
pool opening prep
clean sheets on a freshly made bed
how my pillow feels underneath my head
naps

coffee with cream and sugar
impatiens to plant
herbs for the garden
mangos
a visit with friends in their backyard

a June vision board
last tasks
talks with Sofia
sunburn on my nose from a visit with Rebecca
grilled asparagus

the last of the Ember series with Erin
fleece lined pants and a fleece shirt to change into after 5 miles in the rain
an old distance that was my long run, but is now my normal
salty almonds
blossoming lavender

kind words from a new neighbor about my kids
hope
plans
good sleep
warm things

chocolate milk from the farm
sweet tea with lemon
new running shoes
Big blue
margin

her personality type INTJ (and those of her friends)
a chat and remote walk with Nora
dreams of destination half marathons
Shane's support
garlic bread

happy birthday!

so very grateful for fresh fruits and vegetables

sermons on the walk--God was here #elevationchurch

June goals

Day story

May 2020

Outside my window, air hangs heavy. Fog and humidity. The woods are greening, and the pinks and reds from azaleas pop. Big blue is covered, and this weekend, we open. Winter seemed long. Spring seemed hesitant. Even lately, fires in May and fleece leggings and hoodies. Next week shows 80s. I prepare myself to wait for what summer holds. Behind me, the really big calendar I printed, inspired by Emily Ley's mapping out the year. So far, all the place holding Post-its have been removed, the last plans for summer camps, cancelled.

Giving thanks for rich conversations. A kindred and I shared a deck space in the sunshine and one hour turned to three--it's like that with her. Time flies and we barely scratch the surface. I ran a dedication run for a man who was murdered by hatred on his own run. I thought long on the spark--racism--and its real root that hides beneath the surface of every conflict and sin: hatred. I can get someone to hate me in less than three minutes, I'm sure. I can be hated for my opinion, my beliefs, my talents, my hobbies, my successes, my failures, my habits, my job, my race, my party affiliation, etc. I contemplate the message of hatred--to suppress, to strangle, to murder, to shame, to alienate. I wonder how many will really consider how hatred has grown in their hearts, how they've discarded (killed, gossiped, shamed, slandered) another simply because of differences. When I sat with her on the deck that day, I felt nourished by a rich oasis. Welcome, safe, loved, included. She listens to understand and does not condemn our differences (as I have not condemned our differences). Kindred at heart.

In the school room, I just opened the delivery of next year's curriculum for Erin. I'm not entirely sure of Lanie's needs yet as we haven't been able to sign her up for classes. But we have some books, and I love that part of getting books in the mail, and seeing them wait on the shelves, in queue for a next year. Lanie will be a senior. And Erin enters eighth.

From the kitchen, we have always anticipated May's Celiac Awareness month at Aldi--especially the General Tso's chicken. I haven't been able to find it at area stores this year.

I am looking ahead. A calendar cleared of race days and summer camps. I consider a solstice and bonfire and music. I look to June and a pool opening, hikes, celebrations. A phone call to wrap up remaining tasks and a mid-June finish line. I think on chapters ended, so many. Ready to turn the page. Ready to close that book. Looking ahead.

I don't want to forget the painted rocks of this season. A new neighbor and their young daughter have left us rock surprises in the garden, and also on a shared hiding spot. These rocks are treasure to me. They are precious gems of time and thought and intention.

I am reading When to Walk Away by Gary Thomas. A recommended Beth Moore book arrived with yesterday's curriculum. And Fast 5K by Pete Magill has waited weeks. I need to read before the libraries reopen. Erin and I are finishing up the last of the Green Ember books.

Around the house, we are preparing for summer. I broke the blades on the mower and Shane will replace them this weekend. A pool opening. A bonfire. Relocating plants as we tear down a garden space. I watch a persistent cardinal try to break in to the pool shed. A family of birds nested in a tree I planned to down to make room for a food garden; now I'm considering new alternatives. Lots of herbs growing, and the lavender is so fragrant. A neighbor gifted us eight tomato plants they grew from seedlings. I will plant them this weekend.

I am hearing not much, but I think of a familiar soundtrack from yoga. I'll have taken yoga two years in June, and one teacher's soundtrack has remained unchanged, its music is a soothing touch point in the journey. I gave my notice to quit the studio, appreciating practicing on my own time, instead of on a schedule. I signed up for Glo so I can hear the prompts better than the current offerings. But I will miss her soundtrack. I will miss that studio.

A view of my favorite things

At the table, we are getting rid of our patio table. Our lives have changed a lot these past years. We used to be a hub of weekly gatherings. Life looks different now. I cast off the old cloak. Releasing. Inhale. Exhale.

Christmas in May

On this drizzly day, we have a fire warming in the wood stove. It's our second fire this week.

I cleaned out the basement and steam cleaned the floors. It feels inhabitable again. This after an all-day outage of internet. Suddenly I realized how much time I quickly check or scroll online. Without the distraction, I tackled a project I had been putting off for months.

I received a new recorder in the mail this past week. My former recorder had fallen twice. It only survived one superglue repair. The other repair didn't take, too close to the first. Sadly, it was my favorite recorder. Not all carry the same sound/tune. I tried to find its closest match on Amazon. (It does not disappoint. Hint, cheaper doesn't mean cheaper sometimes.)

It has been months, since Christmas Mummers actually, since I have played any recorder or piano. I had forgotten the notes and how to read music. I tried again. I played a few recorder songs. And yesterday Lanie and I tried a student/teacher duet with "Jingle Bells."

Today, Erin joined me at the piano and we played haltingly through our Christmas songs. We did a hymn duet of "This Is My Father's World" on recorder. But it was fun, however out of key, to play through Christmas songs. Erin is even wearing a Christmas sweater today that Lanie gifted her. And this is all by chance.

"Remember when you were teaching me how to wrap presents last year?" she asked. "And I got to wrap up all the boxes of chocolate covered cherries?"

I had gotten gifts to deliver to the neighbors, but I'm not sure exactly what happened to stop me.

"Did we give them to anyone besides the pastor and Keenan?" Erin asked.

"Yes," I said. "Denise too."

"And I remember how you'd send me to the tree to get another box of cherries to open and we'd snack on them!" We laughed a bit. Our love for chocolate and Christmas.

"Christmas is my favorite holiday," Erin said.

"Yes, the lights, the music ..."

"The ornament shopping!"

"The food," I imagined with her and smiled. "It's my favorite holiday now too."

In the kitchen

When I was a kid, we ate green grapes, iceberg lettuce, and canned or frozen vegetables. Through a measure of shaming by an ex-boyfriend's mom, I learned (mostly from her) about many things. I was in my 20s before I'd ever had a mango. I was in my 40s when I bought and googled how to cut a pomegranate. I'm not sure, but I think I was 50 or close enough to it before I ever purchased and cooked fennel. The pendulum has swung far between Chef Boyardee pizza kits to never using any mixes because of partially hydrogenated oils back to having a pantry shelf of cookie and cake mixes. This is just background.

In a recent Misfits Market box, I got two fennel bulbs. I knew I had a recipe for fennel in a cookbook and grabbed several off the shelf. In the bowl book, not only did I find the Greek salad bowl with fennel that I was looking for, but I also found a recipe that used both fennel and asparagus (which I happened to have both ingredients!). I went with the newer to me recipe.

I built a bowl on a base of red quinoa, then layered it with red peppers, potatoes, asparagus, fennel (all from the market box), and chickpeas (say it in song), seasoned with salt, pepper, paprika, garlic and a sprinkling of sugar and olive oil--all roasted before plating with the quinoa. I didn't have roasted red peppers in a jar for the sauce, so I used another sauce base with plain yogurt, lemon, garlic, salt, pepper and fresh dill. I fried an egg, leaving the center runny. I put it all together on plate and thanked God his goodness, this goodness, and chickpeas. I cut it up into an unsightly mess of glory. And thankfully, there was enough of the quinoa and roasted veggies to save for this morning's breakfast with a freshly fried egg on top. (I wonder if my kids remember me singing in years past the words "Asparagus! Asparagus! Yumyumyum! Asparagus!" My songs are simple, but catchy, and a bit ridiculous.)

If I could pick a person from the past to share this meal with, the women who come to mind first are Linda, my mom, or my ex-boyfriend's mom. I'd pick Linda because she was so routine in her meals, except for when she'd come to our house on Fridays, that this would be the explosive variety combo that would delight her. I'd pick my mom because she'd likely never had quinoa or roasted fennel, and she'd especially love the flavor of fennel (the Good n' Plenty candies were her very favorites). And I'd pick Judy to say thanks for the shaming. Friends, the thought of sharing a table with any of these women--there are no words.

Life is a feast.