Category: Family

First Snow {One Hundred Bits of Gratitude by Thanksgiving} #4

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We awoke to a thick, delicious, white frosting spread across the land. We are delighted and are celebrating by baking something to go with our hot drinks and books today.

31. my daughter’s little whispy bits of hair blowing in the warm, wood-pellet stove air

32. banana and walnut go together so very well, do they not?

33. a lovely time with four mothers, a passel of children, books, beauty, and delightful conversations

34. impromptu date with my middle two, listening to their dreams, ideas, and having lots of laughs together

35. first holiday party of the season tomorrow, a chance to listen and encourage, and wash a few dishes 😉

36. little hands peeling mandarins, fresh, sweet citrus-y smell

37. wood smoke curling out of all the Amish schools, yards full of little carts, recesses of little, black-clad children running around. Crowds of them walking along the roadside, brightly colored lunch coolers banging against their legs

38. anticipating the 200 bulbs the little children and I planted last month. Spring will be glorious thanks to those little gems tucked away

39. tea with honey. I’m a coffee person, but in autumn and winter, “lashings of tea” is the way to go!

40. The only Christmas-y thing I’ve began early is Bing Crosby. Swoon, so cheerful and comforting

~

Forever – is composed of Nows {One Hundred Bits of Gratitude by Thanksgiving} #3

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by Emily Dickinson
Forever – is composed of Nows –
‘Tis not a different time –
Except for Infiniteness –
And Latitude of Home –
From this – experienced Here –
Remove the Dates – to These –
Let Months dissolve in further Months –
And Years – exhale in Years –
Without Debate – or Pause –
Or Celebrated Days –
No different Our Years would be
From Anno Dominies –
{Wow. Thinking on this poem today. Isn’t it lovely and full of food for thought?}
21. a little boy that says “blue” for glue. “Can you blue this for me?” Be still my heart.
22.  sound of rain on the windshield.
23.  simple dates over spicy sandwiches, no place to be, just laughing and catching up.
24.  that the voting ads are going to now stop filling up our mailbox. Ha. Today is election day in the US.
25.  enjoying listening to Shakespeare’s Henry V with my older children, the film adaptation with Kenneth Branaugh has some inspiring scenes. We’ve had some fantastic discussions, laughs, and love the, “Once more until the breach dear friends, once more” speech.
26.  my daughter’s hamster face sticking out of our wooden play castle!
27.  four, fluffy, new deep purple bath towels.
28. listening and dancing to different soundtracks.
29. reading Green Eggs and Ham for the first time again.
30. my biggest boy sitting in front of fire, sketching a trebuchet.
~

Monday Ponderings {November 5th}

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If any strain of my “broken music” make a child’s eyes flash, or his mother’s grow for a moment dim, my labour will not have been in vain. 

~ George MacDonald, “The Fantastic Imagination”

{This quote came to my attention via the lovely Instagram account _bryana_joy and I found it very intriguing. I searched around for it online and found the complete essay. I highly recommend it for writers, artists, any creatives, but also for mothers as it gives an interesting perspective of childlike wonder and an inside-out view of children. Just asking ourselves the question of what is already inherently inside our child (who is made in the image of God), just waiting, faithfully sowing, and spreading beauty that kindles that spark of wonder. We are not molding them from the outside-in and that is such a huge relief. This essay is not a super easy read, and I’m still reflecting on it, and think it’s worth reading.}

~

Saturday ~ {One Hundred Bits of Gratitude by Thanksgiving} #2

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WHO is the honest man?

He that doth still and strongly good pursue, –

To GOD, his Neighbour, and himself most true;

Whom neither force nor fawning can

Unpin, or wrench from giving all their Due…

Who rides his sure and even trot,

While the world now rides by, now lags behind;..

A being brought into a sum,

What Place or Person calls for,-he doth pay…

Who, when he is to treat

With sick folks, women, those whom passions sway,-

Allows for that, and keeps his constant way:

Whom others’ faults do no defeat;

But though men fail him, yet his part doth play!

Whom nothing can procure,

When the wide world runs bias from his will,

To wreathe his limbs, and share, not mend the ill.

This is the marksman, safe and sure,

Who still is right, and prays to be so still.

~Herbert

The Cloud of Witness, p. 454

 

I thinking on that poem this morning and here are some things I’m thankful for right now!

11. little board bridge children made across trench husband is working on. Then offering to hold my hand across.

12. light swaying of clothing on the clothesline.

13. new-to-us table lamps adding so much warm glow to our living room.

14.  a whole day ahead, no major responsibilities, ripe in possibilities.

15. my son’s little overalls.

16. Scripture that promises that God will be strong in my weaknesses.

17. creamy chocolate milk.

18. Voxer, a walkie talkie type app, so I can chat away with my friends.

19. a couple of Christmas surprises I have on the way. I always feel better if I don’t wait till the last minute.

20. first lines in a new book, the anticipation of what is to come.

 

~

Welcome, November ~ {One Hundred Bits of Gratitude by Thanksgiving} #1

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Hello, welcome to my second annual gratitude list here at Hearth Ridge Reflections. I hope to make a list, culminating at the American celebration of Thanksgiving, of things that I am noticing and grateful about in my life. Please join me on your own blog or jot it down in your journal, I find it such an amazing practice of reordering ones focus. I find this time of year, no matter how hard I try, becomes a haze of busyness and materialism. This little project helps me to take a moment away from all of that.  I miss it around here, yet I’ve been given a lovely, wild bunch of children whom I’ve chosen to home educate and that takes precedence. How are you all, dear friends? I hope this post finds you well. Yes, I do call you friends, even though most of us have never met. I appreciate you reading here, sharing your thoughts, and I pray that you walk away with a bit more hope and delight in your back pocket then when you arrived. Here is what I’m thankful for today:

  1. Searching the shelves for our Thanksgiving books and refilling our book basket.
  2. The delight on my daughter’s face when she realized she got a letter in the post.
  3. The smell of peppermint tea.
  4. Stepping out onto our deck, escaping a boiling hot kitchen, into a cool, dark, and star-drenched sky. I grabbed our constellation chart and spent a few lovely moments.
  5. Planning a pineapple-glazed ham for our first holiday gathering coming up, anticipating family enjoying it.
  6. The rotation of children and myself in rocker set near wood pellet stove. Little toes and fingers warmed. Conversation around the warmth. Books read, snuggles.
  7. Little heads stuffed into warm, colorful hats.
  8. That autumn smell. A soupy mixture of wood smoke, earth, rotting, wet leaves, and a closing down of the year.
  9. Unexpected inspiration in a magazine about how important the intangible moments are during the holidays, beautiful, wise, and a blessing.
  10. Precious sleep, when I’ve been not sleeping well.

~

Monday Ponderings {October 22nd}

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“…beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will or sense them. The least we can do is try to be there.”

-Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

{Thinking on this as we begin another week of learning together. Just the conscious practice of slowing down and noticing, helps carry us through the harried pace of most of our modern lives. Noticing the steam rising from the big pot of chili, the way the butter bubbles in the apple crisp, and the wind whips through the tarps outdoors. Just trying to “be there” for all those little bits of beauty and grace.}

~

Retreat

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The pine smell enveloped me, breathing deep, I soaked in the flickering sunlight. It dappled on green, falling and shifting down. My face lifted, eyes closed for just a moment. I was home in this place away from home. The trees shifting and waving, welcoming ripples, the wind weaving me into this tapestry of green, with a hint of autumn color beginning. My husband kindly covering the home front, so that I could take time to retreat. I was struck by the quiet solitude, yet not a loneliness. The crunch of leaves, the occasional bird, and that glorious wind were the background music for my visit. I slowly strolled through the stone work, little bridges, and other work of the Franciscan monks that had lived here beginning almost a century earlier.  The Stations of the Cross intrigued me. I didn’t have the prayers with me, yet I stepped up to each one, and something was hovering at the edges of my mind. I studied the rough, yet careful stone structures with their wooden crosses on top. Inside were the images of Jesus being condemned by Pilate, Jesus accepting his cross, and seeing Mary. I was interested in the three falls of Jesus, wondering. The people mentioned. Simon, Veronica, and the women of Jerusalem. Jesus dying and buried. This Via Crucis was complete and as I looked back,  my vague impressions struck me. First, I wondered and felt a longing for the depiction of the Resurrection and the hope I find in that part of my faith. I found myself shocked at the violence played out in the midst of this wooded sanctuary. The blood, pain, and rejection He encountered stood out harshly against the very calm creation surrounding me. He more than anyone understands. Understands me as a human, is with me through life, and whatever sorrows I’m treading through, He will lead be beside still waters, He will restore my soul. Violence and pain are real, but I rest in His beauty and love. I thought of this retreat weekend and all the beautiful women that I’d been visiting with, our hopes, dreams, and yes, pain, some with deeply intense pain of things they are carrying. A rustle of wind shifted the leaves and light. All of us here were coming to grow and rest a bit, taking a break from the daily cares of cooking, answering questions, and being “on” for others. Yet, I found myself seeing how much of those things echo Jesus’ very posture towards me. The very “job” if you will, that I find myself in, one of mothering and caring, one of practicing compassion, was what I was seeing dimly reflected in these ancient walls, in these unique women, and whispering through the trees and words from our discussions. One last glimpse back, as I exit these woods, gratitude for the green, the light, and for a little bit more understanding than before. The small things of life are truly the biggest.

~

Monday Ponderings {October 1st}

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Humility

How deep a mystery, my Lord, Thou shew’st!

Though I do beat my breast and humble me

And of most servile tasks do make my boast,

Yet have I not attained humility!

 

Then, more I shame me, think upon my sins,

Cry, “Lord, I am not fit to touch Thy feet!” –

My self-abasing no advancement wins,

The more I loathe me, more am I unmeet!

 

“Perceiv’st though not, my child, what thing I ask –

Thy lowly, simple grace that children own;

Thy pride imposeth every heavy task; –

Humility is one as Christ is one:

 

Fret not thyself, but set thine heart on Me, –

And thou goest garbed in My Humility.”

 

-Charlotte Mason, Saviour of the World, Volume IV, Book IV, Poem LXII (Matthew 18:4) [page 170] (this was given to us in a talk given by Nancy Kelly)

Additionally, it tied beautifully into this quote which I got from my sister:

“Trained faith is a triumphant gladness in having nothing but God – no rest, no foothold – nothing but Himself – A triumphant gladness in swinging out into that abyss, rejoicing in every fresh emergency that is going to prove Him true – The Lord Alone – that is trained faith.” ~ Lilias Trotter (Diary, 9 September 1902)

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{This is one of the most beautiful things that has really stuck out to me in the past couple of weeks. I’ve been thinking on it a lot. I’ve been MIA around here due to home educating my children, hope to pop in more soon, as I get the beginning school year wrinkles semi-ironed out. Hopefully, I will be back this week sometime to share my books from September and a little bit more from my retreat I took at the end of September. I have some other ideas always swirling around in my brain.  How are you all doing?  Let me be the first to wish you a very Happy October! Our leaves are starting to change here and it is such a beautiful gift.}

~

Autumn Equinox on Saturday and other ramblings…

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Rain is falling, concentric splatters on the puddles in my driveway. My mind is all-a-swirl as we are finishing up our second week of home education here at Hearth Ridge Farm. Yesterday afternoon, I snuggled down and read the book The Wolves of Willoughby Chase by Joan Aiken, and was thoroughly delighted. Just what I needed at the moment. An escape to England, mysterious wolves, big, beautiful houses with hidden passageways, and endearing children to cheer along the way. The beauty of story. It made me think about the piles of scribbles I have laying all about my house, the discarded ideas, the dusty laptop. The brilliant purple morning glories are dripping wet, a fog and wetness hanging around these last few days. I can’t resist admiring the way their beauty and green tendrils sneak in and out, through and under, a lovely vein of happiness through the outside of my deck. How story and beauty keep us moving forward, their beauty splashing against the gray of dishes, discouragement, and ugly despair of our world. The poem, The Chairs That No One Sits In, a gentle, almost silent-sort-of plea for that elusive something that we often forget, that we drown by the incessant Sirens of our day. The cooling down the past couple of days, the the red tinges peeping out, my daughter exclaiming with delight over the leaves “following” our vehicle, the tinkling, crunching noise and movement swirling up around us, so very beautiful. Autumn is our guest arriving Saturday, and I’m warming up to its cool promise of sweaters and more afternoon teas. I was delighted as I drove through the changing countryside on Tuesday, listening to two kindred-spirit creatives talk on mystery, writing, and just general lovely bookishness. I notice another flower friend, my poor geranium is still hanging on, by the way, a mystery and delight to me, because it is long overdue for a re-potting and often gets neglected. Again, that splash of something that cuts through the piles and dust and smells of life. Reality doesn’t change, but I can make one step forward, parting the waters, one more song to carry me on my way, one more beautiful image, word, and thought that brings me and those around me hope.

~

Monday Ponderings {September 17th}

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Will not the End explain

The crossed endeavor, earnest purpose foiled,

The strange bewilderment of good work spoiled,

The clinging weariness, the inward strain;

Will not the End explain?

 

Meanwhile He comforteth

Them that are losing patience; ’tis His way.

But none can write the words they hear Him say,

For men to read; only they know He saith

Kind words, and comforteth.

 

Not that He doth explain

The mystery that baffleth; but a sense

Husheth the quiet heart, that far, far hence

Lieth a field set thick with golden grain,

Wetted in seedling days by many a rain;

The End – it will explain.

 

~Amy Carmichael, Mountain Breezes, p. 298

{Whoa. I’m holding onto this beautiful thought this week. I hope it encourages you also!  Happy Monday!}

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Monday Ponderings {September 10th}

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“…if the business of teaching be to furnish the child with ideas, any teaching which does not leave him possessed of a new mental image has by so far, missed its mark.”

“An idea is more than an image or a picture; it is, so to speak, a spiritual germ endowed with vital force – with power, that is, to grow, and to produce after its kind.”

“…our only means of true intimacy with a child is the power of recovering our own childhood – a power which we are apt to let slip as of no vital importance.”

“It is possible to supplement Nature so skilfully that we run some risk of supplanting her, depriving her of space and time to do her own work in her own way.”

“…there is no habit of power so useful to man or woman as that of personal initiative.”

“The educational error of our day is that we believe too much in mediators. Now, Nature is her own mediator, undertakes, herself, to find work for eyes and ears, taste and touch; she will prick the brain with problems and the heart with feelings; and the part of the mother or teacher in the early years (indeed, all through life) is to sow opportunities, and then to keep in the background, ready with a guiding or restraining hand only when these are badly wanted.”

p.171-193

(A few gems from Miss Charlotte Mason’s first Volume, Home Education, which I’m thinking on this week. Anything that jumps out to you? Bold emphasis is mine.)

~

On the Eve…

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September ~

Here we are. On the cusp of a beginning again. My footsteps rang out into the void. A void filled with the music of wind, grasshoppers humming, and silent yet spoken sunshine flickering through the trees. My glorious walk this afternoon, cool air, hot, crisp sun, the temperature dropping drastically as I went under and into the tree cover. My heartbeat matching my strides, leaves rattling and skittering across the road, a bird swooping low, scolding me a bit. I consciously willed to set aside the summer projects that are left unfinished, the unresolved arguments of the morning, upcoming autumn commitments, and close my mind’s eyes to the laundry piles. This moment, this now, is what I have to dwell upon. I think on the beauty at my finger tips and the promise of a fresh, new day and term beginning on the morn. Tomorrow we are back to the beauty feast, of books, art, and gathering together to learn anew.

I listen to the soothing tinkle, and then rushing overflow of water in the gullies and washouts, remnants from the overabundance of water during past week and a half of flooding. The sunshine hits the water, diamonds for the taking, a deep breath and one more step forward. Am I ready? Are we ready? That’s part of the beauty of it all. We don’t have to be or do anything special. Of course, I’ve made my lists, I’ve pulled my books of the shelves, and ordered fresh supplies. We’ve sharpened the proverbial pencils. The truth is this: we are all invited to this table, we show up, the parent and child, students one and all, filling our plates, humbly stepping up to the banquet laid before us. Then we feast on love and grace, we breathe in the comforting disciplines of rhythm and routine, and we snuggle down in all comfortable-like, listening to that beat. That hum, cadence, roll to our days that flows through. It’s called Love. A Love so amazing that it binds, knits, and sews up together in this tapestry of life. Yes, I still have to figure out what happens to those unfinished things, yes, I need to ask forgiveness and mend my relationship, and yep, I need to throw another load into the wash. But I come at it with a bounce in my step, a full belly of gratitude and thanksgiving, and a heart surrendered to Love’s work in our hearts this term.

Happy Beauty Feast Eve.

~