river water

gathered with some friends and went here saturday:

and all of us romped about the water with/as children

exploring routes around jutting rocks, skipping the small flat ones and trying not to fall in. some of us succeeded. hey- being dry is overrated. right...?

i'm finding myself wishing i was back at the river today. deep breathing. green. and loud water.

looking for the beauty in my laundry today. i know He's here.

hope your weekend has been full of little and big adventure. back soon.

friends

a strange week so far. started sick, got better (i thought) and then this morning, nope! sick again/still. time with a little one in the bathroom. laundry. running every time i hear a 'mama' spoken with an edge of concern. it's our wednesday.

but we were well yesterday. and we started at the farm.

such a peaceful beginning. i love it out there. with a friend who welcomes us so kindly every time we visit. greeting us as family. we feel at home.

relationships can be so confusing- friendship, true friendship, isn't constantly easy. but i'm so grateful for the many people in my life. people who walk with me and my little family. they stick it out with us. people who think of us, hold us up, and just love us.

my friend beth was here yesterday. she is visiting and lives far away from here, but she came into my house again like she always has. stepping into our lives. making potato salad. reading with samuel. oh i just love friends.

and one more random thought: how stinkin fun is it to watch your kids play? the things this boy of mine comes up with fascinate me.

'new' toys at the farm (remember these!?!):

and this was a veggie-tales inspired 'show' he did with one of each kind of produce in our fridge:

he's just the coolest.

random, i know. so, in summary: we're sick. kind of. doing okay. went to the farm. and friends are totally one of God's best ideas. happy mid-week, my friends.

the land of their birth

my son was born into the thick heat of a Carolina August. the little girl came to us here in early February- as the first signs of spring were creeping up around our yard. and they've continued their short lives here in this Southern place. a place foreign to me. one i'm still getting to know. but this is the land of their birth. though it feels strange to me.

they are learning about how to suck honeysuckle blossoms. foraging for ripe mulberries on our tree in the backyard. we talk about brown thrashers making noise in the bushes and cat birds mewing at us from the trees.

they won't grow up tossing the silk of milkweed in the air. knowing that perfect right-before-it-snows smell. they won't know the song of the red winged blackbird or collect bouquets of cat-tails to bring home.

there will be trips to the beach in place of weekend cabins. BBQ in place of Walleye. bachelor buttons instead of black-eyed susans.

we're learning together the ways of this place. how and when the seasons change. what flowers mark the ends and beginnings. it's a beautiful home. so different from my lake and forest-filled childhood. it's hard for me to see the things we have here as equal replacements. they are, though, i'm sure. but this minnesota girl will be forever linked to the land of her birth. and i suppose my littles ones will be too.

we're romping about this place together.

random and small

small stuff going on around here these days.

working on getting these, in various colors, on etsy soon:

weather has been throwing us for a few loops around here. so i found myself making pumpkin bread and serving watermelon at the same time. we just can't decide which season we're in.

daughter freaked out when she saw her 'babies' out on the line drying today. i love this angry, protective face.

they are a major source of comfort for her. wash day is never easy. and doesn't come often enough. you can see why.

and i have nothing profound or monumental to add here. my head has been busy with so much menial, physical and necessary. bigger pictures always loom, but i haven't had the space to take the whole thing in. i'm making a list of all the things i need to think about when i have time. yup. one of those weeks.

but these small things are what make our days, right? small spaces. small, mighty Spirit-moments. i'll try to remember.

my permanent window-bird made two Christmases ago. Pattern from this book.

the perfect beach

i just love my family.

saturday found us in our car driving. out of town. away from the small troubles. an opportunity to think and talk about the bigger things going in our lives. there's nothing like getting out of town.

and having your destination be the beach certainly doesn't hurt.

the kids were in heaven. and then, so was i. watching your kids hop around with joy and delight does so much good for the soul.

and it was the perfect day- in my book. cloudy. windy. ah beautiful. kate chased a paper-thin shell across the sand. samuel laid in the water. there were no sunbathers disturbed by the sand thrown into the air and i didn't go home with a sunburn. perfect.

ah. just what we needed.

i have been one in the past who approaches a day like that with anticipation and trepidation. i'm prone to frustration and can start to lose it after hour 3 in the car with children whining. asking for things that are 100 miles away.

but yesterday was a little different. i think part of it was that my kids are a little bit older, but i could also see something else. something that amazed me. God has grown me friends. i couldn't believe it. i didn't bite anyone's head off yesterday. i didn't yell. i didn't do that not-so-quiet angry growl under my breath that escapes too often. and as i drove back home and the sun was setting, i looked at jason like my kids did at the ocean earlier that day. can you believe it?! did you see that?!

even if it was only one day- full of flaws on my part, but with one success; it's worth celebrating. why do i doubt His work? i see the ugly in my heart over the years and think there's no way i'll ever change. but He's working. slowly changing. i know i will hear myself yelling again sometime soon. this struggle is not dead. but i had one day of better. and i'm rejoicing.

yesterday's pull

it has been a day. where i drive somewhere to drop something off, only to realize when i arrive that the item is back at home. where i wear the 'medium' sticker on the perfect spot (you know the one) on my new shirt the whole time i'm grocery shopping. things are breaking, kids are whining. it's a day.

and i knew i wanted to touch base here and leave a little something at the end of the week. and i'm right now reminded of one of the reasons i enjoy maintaining this little space of mine.

reminders of yesterday.

and all the good things that were there- and are here to find right now. so even though i didn't think i had time for this sitting, writing, posting- i'm so glad i did it anyway. re-looking at these moments-captured pull my mind out of today's mud. and into the painting of yesterday.

where my very serious-sweet son-

painted a picture of the Passover. i know. we haven't talked about it since before Easter. i don't know what to tell you, people. the kid baffles me too.

oh the sweetness. can't stand it. and this little picture is spraying some quieting mist on the smoldering frustration i seem to be living in this afternoon. what a gift.

thanks for reading, friends. this space is a grounding one for me. helps me remember so much good.

we're off to the beach tomorrow. we'll surly be back with tales of adventure come monday. can't wait. a joy-filled weekend to you.

small thoughts

my brain is empty tonight. i'm sitting here staring out the dark window and i can't find any thoughts. scatterings here and there, but nothing consistent. so i'll share the small things i've been dwelling on. all i've got tonight.

little, wet eyes, looking at me from the sudsy tub. and i think, 'how can those be real? they are so stinkin beautiful?'

a husband who has been busy with so much good. and i miss him.

how thankful i am for our little backyard hammock. so many sweet memories and idyllic moments.

my great-great-aunt's molasses cookies. had to have them tonight. so i just now ate a spoonful of dough. cookies will come tomorrow. how fabulous are heritage recipes? the romantic connection to the women before me.

my tomorrow- afternoon coffee with friends to talk about ann's book. looking forward to pouring it out together and trying to fit it back in.

and i think that's it. no photos or anything. just haven't gotten to fit anything together today. you know the day i'm talking about. those days.

goodnight, friends.

our mother's day

happy mother's day, friends. i hope you enjoyed your littles ones a bit extra yesterday. my mother's days are so often plagued with unmet expectations. so i really tried to go into yesterday thinking it would not be a good day. awesome, right? i know. i'm just that awesome.

and there were so many sweet things. a beautiful afternoon with my family.

my one-and-only stopped by the side of the road with my first-born and they picked me some bachelor buttons. the wildflower i comment the most on down here. and as i saw my two men standing in a field of flowers, agh! i wanted my camera. one of those moments that you can't hold in. too much of Him in there. too much beautiful to fit in my small hands.

so often, my expectations are what leave me depressed, frustrated, resentful. and as i sat under teaching last night- hearing about the book of James- i remembered again. how His good doesn't meet my expectation. He is better than i know. but these days look differently than my thought of 'good.' i see His good gifts all over. but the ugly messes of this life of ours- the carnage on the road we travel- isn't easy for me to wrap up with grace.

thankful He is patient in teaching me. grateful for a kind and loving Father.

a flailing morning

i greeted the day yesterday and was instantly overwhelmed. tasks, phone calls, little buns in new panties and all the rest. i cried about 4 times before lunch-- all for mostly stupid reasons. it was a morning.

i sat wallowing, feeling that horrible not-in-control feeling. non-descript, flailing and hopeless. how do i so easily land there??

i texted a few women asking for prayer. got texts back from understanding sisters. and within 20 minutes i was here:

with chubby fingers, kneading bread.

community rocks. prayer is miraculous. and our God is good.

the day that followed was not perfect. but it was so much better.

happy weekend, friends. here's to not being alone.

normal, sewing and calling my Dad

been doing a lot of normal around here these days.

potty training. trying to explain volcanos. stretching groceries further than they want to go. with one beautiful sewing afternoon thrown into the mix.

kids were with a friend, windows were open, playlist blaring. oh good times, friends. putting my hand to something lovely does wonders for this heart. i got to finish these:

{if you live in Greenville, go see them this Friday at Art & Light. they'll be there along with so many other beautiful things. plus a few free eats. 6-9pm. may 6.}

and i've been thinking a lot about prayer these past days. the continual conversation i've been invited into. i so frequently miss out. and i don't want to. what would happen if i entered in more often? what do i subconsciously think Him not concerned with/not able to solve, so i don't bring it before Him? i don't bother Him with it.

and He's longing for me to come. so. in the midst of these mornings and afternoons of normal- i'm hoping to accept the invitation more often. be His daughter. share with my Dad what's going on. call Him up. hopeful.

bri came

older sister-extraodinaire. and oh the time we had. so comfortable and easy- as always.

spent a saturday in charleston. just us.

ate lunch here:

we wandered and explored.

found a fabulous cupcake shop. sugar. and of course i forgot my camera, so you can't see here how stinkin' cute it is. you just have to go. trust us. i mean the address is 59 1/2 cannon. already it starts out cute, right?

then to the beach.

and back again.

to babies and boys.

and today's post is so very tardy because her flight got delayed (yay!) and she left much later than anticipated.

but we are now officially back to normal.

i saw her disappear up the airport escalator and cried. stood by her at church, together singing praises to our Lord and Savior and cried. heard my son wish she could stay forever...

each time we part i feel like it should be easier, but it's harder, i think. seeing what could be, maybe, if we lived near each other.

my head is swimming in all we talked about- unpacking thoughts and trying to re-pack them into our hearts. new ideas and small changes for future months. and i know He grows me through her company. so thankful. it was a fabulous weekend. right now, though, it seems all i want to write about is the sadness.

a dear friend called to check on me today. a kind voice with a knowing 'how are you doing...?' and i'm trying (trying, people.) to rest in the reality of His love and kindness. in His huge plan-filled hand that has me here and her there.

and i know His little post-its of kindness are everywhere around me. i'm striving to open my eyes to them. this weekend was a gift. thankful.