Hush {Hundred Bits of Gratitude by Thanksgiving 2019} #3

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I’m thankful for…

21. baby’s eyelashes resting on his cheek while he nurses

22. feeling of bread dough in my hands, sticky, squishy, then smooth
23. stillness of early mornings, the hush
24. our homeschool group, Excelsior Guild, the children and moms grow me and I love them all
25. poetry…read this one recently and it made me think:
A Betrayal
I cannot undo
           what I have done;
           I can’t un-sing
           a song that’s sung.
And the saddest thing 
      about my regret –
    
I can’t forgive me
       and you can’t forget.
-Lang Leav
26. purple, pink, and orange sunrise, tangible joy
27. reading Where the Wild Things Are over and over again with 5 yo, Ben. I bought a mug with this on it for “Back to (Home) School” and he and I just love it! We giggle every time I use it and look at each other with knowing eyes.
28. drops of water on rose petals in the sink, surprise gift from husband
29. snow on tree limbs, drooping and plopping bits down, a fizz blowing off
30. an empty Saturday, no plans in it yet
~
What’s on your gratitude list today?

Fresh and Crisp {One Hundred Bits of Gratitude by Thanksgiving 2019} #2

IMG_20191019_101816_755Gratitude for…

11. Hanging out with my oldest, chuckles over the ridiculous Princess Diaries movies

12. my littlest hands while he’s nursing, he strokes or pats me, cooing and gulping

13. a made-up, use what’s on hand, breakfast “pizza”, that the children love
14. golden color of the cornfields, flaring out
15. Elizabeth Von Arnim’s The Solitary Summer, so lovely and quietly humorous
16. getting away for a few days with Husband and Baby. The colors were gorgeous while we drove
17. my nature journal. I love looking back at the little gifts from God that I’ve recorded
18. grocery store run with my 12 yo son one morning, he picked a sprinkle doughnut for me, a maple caramel type for himself
19. the joy of baby dearest and those plastic keys…all my kids have loved this toy
20. fresh, crisp black Pilot Pen with an .05 tip – love the scritch, scratch noise
~
What are you thankful for today?
(My desktop computer is undergoing maintenance- forgive wonky formatting as I’m doing this from my phone.)

Happy November! {One Hundred Bits of Gratitude by Thanksgiving 2019} #1

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1. flicker of candlelight, the shadows playing on the wall
2. the soft chatter of the children while playing LEGOS, the clink, clink sound
3. new-to-us drawing books and lessons from a friend
4  a walk in the golden-drenched, autumn-edged meadow
5. my comfy old sweater out again, holes and all
6. long naps to catch up on sleep
7. hot showers, orange-y smell of soap
8. reading Bleak House with an online book club, Dickens was AMAZING with atmosphere and with his characters
9. hot chocolate and tea being brewed up frequently now
10. dinner out with my sister recently, new industrial-type restaurant, yummy pizza and even more delicious conversation

 

 

{This is my 3rd annual blog gratitude list. I try to cultivate gratitude in my daily life by paying close attention, but this is a purposeful practice I engage in via a friend through email each year. I extended it out into my blog and I invite you to join me through your own blog, or personally, in your journal, in the comments on this post, or even just in your hearts. You can peruse my past years here if you are interested. I highly recommend this practice year round, but also find it a perfect November activity to get my heart in a proper place for the holiday season.}

~

What are you thankful for today? 

Saturday Song

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I took to the meadows today. Cloud shadows hover over a section of far-flung woods. Clouds that are low-lying, pancake-like, stretching on to eternity. Green-gold topped with clear blue are the hues of the moment, a bit of scarlet thrown in for extra flourish. A gentle hum and a soft rustle are my background music, the distant shrillness of  machinery cutting rudely in. A small getaway, pens and journals in hand, a small step for the restoration of this mother-kind.

It was a week of relationship work, of gathering together with people. The hard-heart- softening work. Charlotte Mason shares that character is the purpose of education and surely she must mean mostly the mother’s character. Encircling little cousins that visited, comforting aches and pains, you know the stuff life is made of. A birthday party, sunflower-y cake celebrating another niece. A grandpa visiting at dinner time a few nights, homemade pizza, and eking out the last few garden watermelons ripe with late summer. Homeschool friends gathering around the craft and drawing table, turning ears, lifting voices, searching the depths of Van Gogh’s “The Potato Eaters.” Chocolate chip zucchini muffins shared and lovely conversations with other mothers. Francis Bacon and Jane Austen’s Persuasion discussed and quotes swapped. The long van rides, parking next to the riot of purple morning glories, heart leaves twining around my own fleshly heart. The long minutes spent talking, listening, soothing. The loudness of it all becoming magnified by low sleep. My comfy bedside chair became a revolving door for hurts, concerns, laughs, plans, book chats, and dreams. Heavy chair.

The spent, shriveled Queen Anne’s lace nods it’s weary head next to mine. The long expanse and deep view of it all overwhelms me. The wind whips my page over, a glorious, grassy, earthy, clover-y smell dives deep into my nostrils, winging through my lungs, truly refreshing. Beyond the ridge, up and out of a valley of trees, a golden soybean (or is it wheat?) field lies as a bright beacon drawing my thirsty eyes. It reminds me of the hymn I’ve been reading with the children called “Come to Jesus” by Fredrick Faber and how I read it this week accompanied with music. There’s certainly a wideness in God’s mercy, a wideness of the sea or even these vast fields. A small spider crawls up a large weed stalk next to my chair. Oh, my soul sings.

The exhaustion, countless meals, and the schedule threatening to drown unless I stop to see. To admire the three leaves with pale mimicking triangles on the clover, the grasshoppers, and yes, again with those clouds. The beauty of another week becomes my Saturday song. Sure, there were discordant moments, a screech here, and a blast there, but I see. In the midst of reading Mark in the Holy Scriptures together at the hot oatmeal breakfast table, rolling out dough, wiping noses, giving neutralizer treatments. During the washing and drying of towels till they’re soft, fragrant, and fluffy, I see just that small bit of glory. I see a little of the “peace that just begins when ambition ends.”* I’m reminded that I’m on a journey, I don’t need to rush, worry. I can just watch the bumblebee on the goldenrod, wash a dish fresh, open a soybean and a milkweed pod with my 7 yo, walk through grass and white clover, with the dew dampening my toes, steam rising from my coffee. I get to read piles of board books to my 5 yo and 5 month old, catch the edges of fog that lies in the ditches, around corners, and under trees, walk out after late night nursing sessions to gaze at the stars. I get to read about the Knit Your Bit campaign during the World Wars to the intrigue and delight of the children, light the black taper candles as the night draws to a close, and I am always amazed at the little tune of gratitude just hovering inches away ready for me to snatch if I will just listen, if I will just see.

~

*The Cloud of Witness, p. 362

The Gift of This Moment

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Haunting flute music drifts through the air mixed with my lemon essential oil mist. Feasts for nose and ears. I’ve been slowly floating up and out of post-partum exhaustion and haze, resurfacing, so to speak. Not quite back in the land of the living yet, but one moment at a time, finding my way, taking deep breaths at the surface. Our summer has been a mixture of scrambling, snuggling, and sliding around in the big, red van. We’ve been bumping our way over country roads to family parties and a week at the cabin, surrounded by the memory of pine-drenched air there still fresh in my nose mind. The year has flown, new baby’s have a way of slowing time down and speeding it up at the same time. We’ve enjoyed reading poetry together, trying to finish stories and songs that fell to the wayside during my last months of pregnancy. Summer is time for long book series, my oldest especially embracing the extra reading time, but also she has been found out in the hay meadow on her horse, our new family dog trotting alongside. Ahh. Summer. A welcome friend, I’m soaking her in, recalling the Polar Vortex that swept the northern midwest just a few months ago. I saw somewhere online that there was like a 100 degree difference in some parts of the midwest when compared to the deep “winter that never seemed to be Christmas” that we went through. In hindsight, that was a lot harder for me than I thought. So, I’m determined not to complain of the slow, sultry, still days we are having now. I closed my eyes and let the sweat drip down my back, trying to soak in warmth, bone-deep. Yes, I don’t love nursing a hot, wiggling, darling in this weather, but I’m grateful for it and it’s erasing effects of that cold that is written deep in my skin. Technology has been a boon to me the past few days, as a dear heart, Elisabeth, has been voxering me about my history study plan for the autumn. Summer is off from the scheduled books, but mothering and teaching really never rest. We plan, we dream, we hope, and pray. My black hollyhocks stir slightly in the breeze, a hopeful bit for me, as I fight feelings of being overwhelmed by the sheer amount of needs. Needs for myself, of health, feeling good again in my stretched skin, sleep, and peace. Needs for my husband, encouragement and restful place to come home to, and the needs of a whole bouquet of beautiful children I’ve been given to water. We walk by faith, not by sight, and sigh, isn’t that a good thing? If I looked outwardly only, I’d faint, but I fix my gaze by faith on the One who walks along with me, in fact, carries me. Flute, water trickles, and a gentle murmur of sweet voices are surrounding me now. A gift in the moment. And I’m thankful for it.

~

A Blessed Thanksgiving to You and Yours {One Hundred Bits of Gratitude by Thanksgiving} #9-10

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MY heart in chiming gladness o’er and o’er

Sings on “GOD’S everlasting love! What 

would’st Thou more?”

Yes, one thing more! To know it ours indeed,

To add the conscious joy of full possession! –

O tender grace that stoops to every need!

This everlasting love hath found expression

In loving-kindness which hath gently drawn

The heart that else astray too willingly had gone…

We thirst for GOD, our treasure is above;

Earth has no gift our one desire to meet,

And that desire is pledge of His own love.

~F.R. Havergal

The Cloud of Witness, p. 109

 

81. children using leftover pie dough for little cinnamon sugar creations

82. my husband snuggled on couch, wrapped in sleeping bag, children all around him, and sitting on his lap

83. all of us talking to the turkey like he is part of our family. He was taking a cold water bath and we kept poking him and conversing with him! Ha.

84. Kitchen Aid mixture is such a good friend at holiday time

85. lovely brunch conversation and my little children licking their fingers from the cinnamon rolls

86. a child seeing that I was cooking bacon and hollering for joy, “BACON!”

87. temperamental can opener working

88. talking books with oldest and pursing Goodreads and the local library online site

89. bed sheets flapping in the cold, crisp wind – they are going to smell so fresh

90.  one daughter helping me cook bacon and scrambled eggs, another mixing  OJ, and my son placing the cinnamon rolls on pan – those moments when cooking together is so fun

91. my fluffy mauve sweater

92. new light bulbs put in, the kitchen is a brand new space! Ha.

93. fabric purchased and waiting to be washed for a Christmas project. Crossing my fingers that I can finish something

94. a new refined to-do list for the next few weeks – not too bad

95. a Christmas gift arrived for my 9 yo daughter that I know she is going to LOVE and I’m pleased with it.

96. new, fresh day after a few rough ones, Tylenol and hot, delicious coffee helping me to get going

97. my 4 yo laughing at a funny part in the book The Napping House, his giggle is so darling

98. the sizzle of the turkey and the juicy, slicing of apples

99. the Narnia movie soundtrack

100. the way the children’s art flutters on our art line in the house, heat blowing up and in, warming the heart of our home

~

So many tangible and intangible blessings all year round! ❤ Thanks for joining me this month, noticing our blessings ~

 

On the Eve {One Hundred Bits of Gratitude by Thanksgiving} #7-8

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{Gulf of St. Lawrence/Atlantic, summer 2017, from near the East Point Lighthouse, P.E.I, Canada. This photo has a special meaning to me and I love it so much.}

61. the joyfulness in my children, so refreshing

62. anticipation of my family’s happiness over the big dinner planned for tomorrow

63. overhearing the walkie talkie conversations between my children and husband as they hunt –

64. new Elsa Beskow calendar for the new year

65. good price on bulk red potatoes and onions

66. seeing my sister and BIL’s new apartment, the blessing of them cooking a great meal for me, and spending time just chatting

67. someone at church kindly filling in for me in Sunday School

68. an invitation to a lovely couple’s home after church last Sunday, delicious home-cooked meal, a cooking break for me. The gentleman was an accomplished carpenter and my little children were so delighted by the beautiful wooden toys and marble run he built.

69. a little copper tea kettle I found thrifting that has brought so much delight to us through it’s beautiful sparkle and hours of pretend play

70. my 11 yo’s languages and codes that he’s been creating. He is so inspired by Tolkien’s Elvish

71. new pen pals from Oregon for two of my children

72.  our dependable vehicles. My trusty Dodge Caravan gets me where I need to go and my husband’s Prius is wonderful for long commutes.

73. the Amish old-fashioned corn-shocks dotting the landscape

74. new book of Christmas stories to enjoy in December with some hot apple cinnamon tea

75. a sale on some shoes that I love! They are like a burnt orange (not my usual color choice), but they came and they fit perfectly and I love them

76. Pioneer Woman’s Pie Crust recipe. It’s my favorite and gets well used doing holidays and birthday seasons.

77. My SIL’s cranberry sauce recipe. She just blends up cranberries, a little sugar or honey, and an orange. Seriously, addicting stuff

78. My littlest son, who plays with pieces of cardboard, the broom, and an old bouquet of artificial flowers for hours. This kid is so unique, funny, and amazing.

79. sharing Thanksgiving poetry from anthologies with the family

80. the fast and furious snowflake shower today. Just so beautiful. The most beautiful part was seeing my 9yo out in it, just enjoying it, walking through it, and bending to look. She told me she was having a hard time seeing the snowflake patterns. I’m so grateful she wants to see them. Sigh

 

~

Snowy {One Hundred Bits of Gratitude by Thanksgiving} #6

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{a gorgeous restored church on Prince Edward Island, Canada}

 

51. lamp-lit dinner of buttery pancakes shared with two children who were at home with me last night. We listened to soft music as the flame flickered. So peaceful!

52. the sound of potatoes being grated. Juicy and a pleasant scraping. Hash browns for my husband! Opening deer hunting and an empty fridge had me scrambling to find some things for hungry bellies. The hunters seem to appreciate the few eggs, random turkey sausage (found deep in freezer),  and hastily-made hash browns.

53. the sizzle of oil and smell of crispy potato.

54. the soft, top outline of snow on some forgotten laundry on line.

55. slowly attempting to paint the constellation Orion in my nature journal. It looks primitive, but I’m glad to capture the moments I’ve spent gazing at this imposing fellow in the sky.

56. fascinating essay here and quotes here on Myth & Moor, probably one of my favorite blogs. I suspect that the author and I are kindred spirits, hopefully, we could be friends even though we may differ in many of our core beliefs.

57.  reading The Little Engine That Could over and over to my littlest as he just discovered it on our library shelf. I never realized until now that it’s sort of a retelling of the Good Samaritan.

58. Black-Capped Chickadees and a Male Cardinal at my feeders! We don’t have a lot of trees and I’ve really missed the variety of birds that we had at our former home.

59. pretty Christmas wrapping paper that I ordered. I usually wrap all my gifts in one print, the monochromatic scheme looks so pretty under the tree and frankly, it’s just easier.

60. I got a few things scribbled last night in my journal. Some writing actually down in ink and not floating around in my stuffed, spilling-over brain! I’ve really struggled with making the time, because it feels like I need so much mental space, of which I have zero right now. I’m finding I’m going to have to fit it in the margins of life or it won’t happen at all. How wonderful it is to just get down one page of words captured for just a little while.

~

 

Sick Days {One Hundred Bits of Gratitude by Thanksgiving} #5

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We’ve been under a cold and upper respiratory fog that just will not go away. Thankfully, we seem to be slowly coming out the other side of the tunnel and I know there are things I was grateful for even in the midst of hard daily life circumstances.

41. extra soft Kleenex, big three pack, that my husband picked up for us

42. daughter who served me hot tea on a tray with a card and light candle, so cheerful and an unexpected blessing

43. fluffy duvet covers to snuggle under

44. the brilliant star-filled sky out of our big window in the upstairs hall. I’ve been up a lot with children, my own coughing, and I kept noticing it as I passed by.

45. I made a simple meal of meatballs and mash potatoes and my family was in raptures. Hallelujah for happy stomachs!

46. thick, soft socks

47. children who helped out with cooking while I was really sick

48. glorious orange sunrise this morning, shining through a purple and pale blue haze, so beautiful

49. sunlight has been rare lately, so when it visits, the shafts throughout the house are lifegiving

50. sharing the reading of our books together, cuddling under quilts, listening to music and watching Victorian Farm episode on Youtube. Flexibility to keep going when sick at a comfortable speed.

~

 

 

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.
~

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.

 

~