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Gratitude List {One Hundred Bits by Thanksgiving} #8

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{continuing my gratitude list}

71. Outdoor Christmas lights popping up here and there. They are so cheerful driving along on deepest, darkest country roads.

72. My long-suffering Charlotte Mason book study friends, who once-a-month have to listen to me blast them with what I’ve been reading for the last month and all the ideas that come out of that reading. I don’t go out much. Poor friends, you know who you are.

73. My husband who attempts to follow my incoherent ramblings and rantings.

74. Brioche. Need I say more?

75. The beauty and inspiration I learn daily with and from my children as we learn together here at Hearth Ridge. It’s subtle, but astounding if I really pay attention.

76. A week or so without WiFi, showing me that many things I think are important, ahem, aren’t that important. And really, not having WiFi, isn’t even a problem in many areas of the world. Perspective.

77. My mother! It’s her birthday today. We get to go out to lunch together tomorrow.

78. Christmas secrets and surprises being worked on and planned.

79. Pie baking today and tomorrow!

80. Pen pals

~

Gratitude List {One Hundred Bits by Thanksgiving} #7

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{continuing my gratitude list}

61. Homemade costumes by Phoebe and Ella, putting on a show for me
62. The beautiful drive to a friend’s house
63. Spending time with new mom friends at local homeschool mothers night
64. Ben being so excited to see after I’m gone
65. Anticipation building for opening day of hunting
66. New book to share over Christmas
67. Jan Brett illustrations
68. Surprise pumpkin pie for Amos
69. Thanksgiving plans at my brothers home
70. The closing down of another blessed year, Lord-willing a new, fresh start next

~

Fortitude

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I’m sick of fortitude. She’s been staring at me ever since July. Botticelli’s painting, a small print of it, a bit worn around the edges, stuck to my fridge.

My single-eyed focus is wavering. Miss Navel-Gaze and Mrs. Self-Absorption are friendly companions. Over a mug of steaming coffee, they commiserate with me.

They help me try to figure myself out, no rigid battle mode here. At their kind insistence, I’m giving myself a little more-than-usual grace. We’re going to figure this out, create some some steps for fixing things. Just why can’t I get myself together anyway?

I’m nervous I’m going to mess up, fail. But my companions are helping me take care of me, to keep my focus on my needs.

Who’s that peeking in at the window? That headdress is hideous. She’s pointing, dress billowing in the wind, towards my daughter, who needs help. I stand, push out through the door, and reaching Ella, I breathe a prayer of thanksgiving. She has only a small cut. My companions beckon at the door of the house, fresh coffee and ease in their hands. I look hesitatingly to the side of me. She stands there. Still, resolute, obedient, faithful. Weariness and slothfulness tug me toward the house, forgiveness, understanding, and strength ooze from this warrior.

I slowly turn, bare feet on cold earth, seeing my husband getting out of his car, eyes weary, arms full. I see gardens needing clearing after the frost, I know of four pounds of beef thawing on counter for this evening’s meal.

Fortitude calmly takes my hand, her sword held purposely in the other. She gives me a tiny smile.

I want that inner strength I see in her battle-worn face. I want this posture of restful readiness and watchfulness. A waiting purposefully for the next right thing.

Ignoring the clanging coming from those voices, I squeeze her hand back and take a step towards living death. Death to self as primary. One of love, not of anxiousness, which I sense from her is really selfishness, after all, it is a preoccupation with self. I take a step towards my husband, kissing his cheek, her sword slashes at the hovering navel gazing, never loosing her grip on me. I do menial tasks, her by my side, I listen to endless conversations from children, cooking meals to feed a crowd, she is stomping self-absorption into dirt. Together, the hard, becomes beautiful.

I look over at that wretched-lovely art print and I thank God for it. It’s trumpet call to humble myself under the mighty hand of God, and He will lift me up. I’m armed and restfully waiting with Fortitude.

May I be bold enough to dive into the tumult with her each and every blessed day I’m given. Fortitude, stand on and continue to shine forth.

~

Gratitude List {One Hundred Bits by Thanksgiving} #6

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{continuing my gratitude list}

51. giving, giving, and giving more…coming to the end of myself, seeing the need of my Savior more than ever to carry me

52. library trips

53. listening to my 8 year old daughter talk, talk, talk

54. fluffy, hot, clean laundry from the dryer

55. poetry

56. Minestrone soup with thick-cut sausage, home made bread slathered with butter

57. early morning light reflecting off glass-glazed ice puddles

58. warm, woolen coats

59. new tights, cardigans, rich colors

60. Amish gentleman rollerblading by with his bow hunting gear slung over his shoulder, welcome to the “deep country”, I’m so thankful I live here

~

Gratitude List {One Hundred Bits by Thanksgiving} #5

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{continuing my gratitude list}

41. the way leaves swirl up behind our vehicle as we drive down the road

42. Ben’s sweet little hands

43. hours of LEGO playing

44. grilled cheese on sourdough

45. a husband who faithfully provides

46. early morning stillness

47. two oldest passed Hunter’s Safety

48. first big flakes of snow, so beautiful

49. a big load of seconds from apple orchard at a good price

50. hot chocolate mustaches on little children

~

Autumn 2017 – Our Favorite Books for Children & Young Adults

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This may seem like a massive list for just a few months of the year! We do enjoy our books, that’s for sure. However, remember there are eight people (well, my 3 year old didn’t say much) weighing in on their favorites for RIGHT now. They don’t necessarily have anything to do with autumn, just what each person is enjoying personally, some from our learning and others just for extra fun during this season. I tried to take photos of all the suggestions from my family for this list, but that didn’t work out (alas, real life), but I did some. I also added an age range, but honestly, we all love most of these. Hope you enjoy this list!

The Magic Pudding by Norman Lindsay – Hilarious adventures of three friends who have a magical pudding that never runs out! Two nasty puddin’ thieves are after their treat. Wonderful rhymes and songs! (All ages! Australian Classic.)

The Enchanted Wood by Enid Blyton – This is the first in a series and my 5 year old and I are very much enjoying this! Our copy has full page, lovely, colorful illustrations. This is the story of three children that find a magic tree that takes them to faraway, crazy, lands. They meet a host of fun friends, and some creatures they wish they HADN’T met! (10 and under)

 

 

 

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis – a favorite reread here all around. (All ages!)

The Twenty- One Balloons by William Pène du Bois – the incredible story of a retired Professor who decides to take a balloon trip, ending up crashing on an island full of surprises. (All ages!)

American Tall Tales by Adrien Stoutenberg – this is well-loved favorite, especially the part about Paul Bunyan. (10 and younger)

The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind: Creating Currents of Electricity and Hope by William Kamkwamba and Bryan Mealer – We are really just in the beginning of this book, but my 12 year old and I are really enjoying it. It is sobering, yet heart-warming. We have really interesting discussion after reading. I’m editing just a wee touch as I read this out loud, but over all a engrossing story of a young man growing up in Malawi. (12 and older)

The Black Star of Kingston by S.D. Smith – (*whispering* I find this series little simple and redundant.) My children, however, especially my boys, find the idea of warrior rabbits, fantastic! This is a prequel, I believe, to The Green Ember.  A certain boy is even getting a t-shirt from this series for Christmas. (10 and under)

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Knee-Knock Rise by Natalie Babbitt – My 8 year old and I are reading this together and so far it is a mysterious, interesting story about a boy Egan who travels to visit relatives. Everyone in the village lives in terror a menacing noise up the mountain, is Egan curious and brave enough to find out what’s up there? (10 and under)

Betsy and Tacy Go Downtown by Maud Hart Lovelace – this is the fourth in this series and I’m looking foward to reading this with my 8 year old daughter. We’ve been slowly savoring these. Adventures of two friends and their families in a Midwestern town. She picked this before we’d even read it, because she really loves these! I’m going to hold off on the last four in the series as those are when Betsy and Tacy are older. We’ll pick up on those later. (10 and under)

The Secret River by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings – This was a sad, yet mystical story about a little girl and her parents during the Great Depression. A neighbor shares the story of a secret river full of fish, sending Calpurnia on an adventure to help her family and friends. We have the version with Leonard Weisgard’s illustrations and I think that adds a lot to this. (10 and under)

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The Book of Golden Deeds by Charlotte M. Yonge – A collection of stories of bravery and true courage. You won’t find any sports “heroes” in this book! Highly moving and challenging. My daughter and I have wonderful discussions on this title. Older language, just FYI. (12 and up)

The Story of John J. Audubon by Joan Howard – This is an interesting biography or historical fiction? (I can never tell), about Audubon. My daughter and I are really enjoying talking about it. ( 8 and up)

The Cloudspotter’s Guide: The Science, History, and Culture of Clouds by Gavin Pretor-Pinney – Interesting science behind clouds told in engaging way with folk lore, stories, and myths behind clouds. Good for discussions with older students, some adult- type topics in it, just FYI. (12 and up)

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Half Magic by Edward Eager – Three children find a magic pebble that gives you HALF of what you wish for…so be careful! This leads to hilarious situations! The children love this book. (All ages!)

The Swiss Family Robinson by Johann David Wyss – This is our summer read aloud that we didn’t finish and we are still very much enjoying it. Fantastic examples of what hard work and ingenuity can do. Great examples of a loving family environment. I think some of the situations in the story are a bit TOO convenient, but I didn’t mention that to the children, and they love the exotic animals, interesting houses, and adventures the Robinson family are having! Older language, just FYI. (All ages!)

Mandy by Julie Andrews Edwards – yes, by THAT Julie Andrews. This started off slow for us, and some children were very frustrated and emotions ran high about certain parts of this book, that they actually wanted to quit! However, I pressed on with this one, because I had peeked ahead, and now they can’t get enough of it. Hopefully, they will enjoy the ending. (All ages!)

Honorable mention, not pictured:

The Dry Divide by Ralph Moody – this is the 7th book in the Ralph Moody Series which my husband has been reading in the evenings to the children. We love this rough and tumble true story of Ralph’s life.

The Inheritance Cycle by Christopher Paolini – my oldest wanted me to include this series. We both enjoy fantasy and she read this series this autumn after it was recommended to her.

We read many picture books and my youngest has favorite board books, but I can’t get my head wrapped around our favorites in those areas right at the moment. I’ll let you know if any jump out at me.

Happy Reading! Please share if you have any favorites from these genres in the past few months!

~

Gratitude List {One Hundred Bits by Thanksgiving} #4

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{continuing my gratitude list}

31. fresh sheets on my bed

32. owl hooting outside my window in the wee morning hours

33. stuffed animal birthday celebration

34. planning Christmas surprises

35. writing group at library, so inspiring

36. surprising the children with donuts and trip to a little local dam (we’ve been reading about them!)

37. sunlight hitting the table full of nature treasures JUST right

38. hot coffee

39. Go Fish and Uno games

40. twinkle lights around the house

~

 

Daily Diary {Unit of Time}

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The Night School, Geritt Dou, 1660 {Google}

Chicken soup with veggies simmering on the stove, walnut chocolate chip brownies baking, and the chatter of voices drawing pictures.  Stirring the soup, I think through the day. The beginning was one of a brilliant, cold blue, sky with a orange-hued golden crust, the bottom resting on the black bottomless shadows of the horizon. Sipping a bit of soup, I gaze at the now. Popcorn scattered around, half dried laundry waiting, my Monday. Evening now upon us, soon children will be wrestled into their beds, the giggles, messes, and moments tucked away for tonight. Listening to Bing Crosby, youtube videos on how to dance “The Charleston” (don’t ask how we got on that!), discussions over Matthew, chapter 6 come to mind. First big snow showers (no accumulation to the chagrin of the children), chickens who are on strike due to the cold, and black, forlorn, frozen skeletons of dear cosmos waving an icy hand at me.  The smell of wood smoke as Noah stokes the furnace in the basement, the needle nose pliers out to fix the knob on the dryer, and knocking at the door, an organic certification lady to talk business with my husband. Leftover baked potatoes, steamy hot, sprinkle of cheese, pat of butter, salt and peppered. A bit of leftover chili with toasted sandwiches. Apple cores everywhere, a big load of seconds from a local orchard spilling, rolling, tumbling out over our porch, apple heaven, apple pie, and soon-to-be applesauce if I can get to it. Two book packages in the post, thumbing through them, hot coffee steaming, warming, caressing my face, words floating up from the pages. New to me writing podcast, delightful kindred moments as I chop veggies for the never-ending feasting, gratefulness for the bountiful life simmering just under the surface. Benjamin-Boy with his deep, chocolaty eyes twinkling at me, his lovely red sweater now out of blue tub, arms outstretched, crying for me, “Hold me, Mom!” Paintings radiating with light, stories on Johnny Appleseed, autumn poetry, and snuggles with Sam, reading his special him-and-me only book. Oh, there were the arguments too. Mini-trials of regular ‘ole life, if you will. The lack of eggs (don’t ask, refer to chicken strike above), doing what we ought when we don’t want to because it’s right (oh, boy, do I understand that one!), the crumbs, the massive laundry load, hurt feelings, tears, the smashed apple I just stepped in with my bare toes, and the general wild exuberance that frays the stoutest of nerves. Gladys Taber writes this and I thank her for it, this perspective, a glorious thing.

“What has my day been worth, this unit of time given to me? Possibly I said a comforting word where it was needed, or offered practical help to someone in trouble. Nothing world-shaking, to be sure. I cannot influence the world. I can only live every day as well as I can, keeping my home, cherishing my neighbors, helping in the community in a small way. But perhaps I have grown a little in understanding, patience, and loving-kindness. And perhaps I shall do better tomorrow, another precious unit of time.”

Stillmeadow Sampler

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Brace, Compel, and Do Right

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Do not let the children pass a day without distinct efforts, intellectual, moral, volitional; let them brace themselves to understand; let them compel themselves to do and to bear; and let them do right at the sacrifice of ease and pleasure: and this for many higher reasons, but, in the first and lowest place, that the mere physical organ of mind and will may grow vigorous with work.

Charlotte Mason, Volume 1, p. 22

{Emphasis is mine. This quote is highly convicting and pointed. I need to take Miss Mason’s advice in my own life and also consider it in my children’s lives. I’m rereading Volume 1 with friends and it is so good!}

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“Life isn’t all fricasseed frogs and eel pie.” – Puddleglum

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{Google}

Puddleglum is one of my many favorite characters from C.S. Lewis’ The Chronicles of Narnia. He is just such a funny, creepy mixture of doom and gloom, Eeyore-like qualities, yet with a steadiness that helps the other characters in a myriad of ways. He appears in The Silver Chair, joining Jill and Eustace on their quest to free Prince Rilian of Narnia from the witch.

I think he cracks me up so much in that I’m sort of the polar opposite of him. I like to see the positives in any situation, in fact, I have to see the positives, or I’ll go crazy. I’m not sure if this is part of my personality or if it’s just a product of my life, or just the season I’m living in. I think in some respects, it’s a habit to be cultivated. I don’t think it’s always necessarily a conscious habit, but at times I do focus on looking at a situation, no matter how bad, and picking out the beauty or the good to be found in it. And really, that is the essence of a habit, you first must choose to do something, and eventually you are doing it without even thinking, because it is so ingrained into you. This is something I must do in order to keep perspective, to stay healthy mentally and emotionally. It does not make me better than anyone, it’s a life-giving practice that I know I must prioritize. Focusing on my problems, worrying, and striving rarely fixes them and makes for so much angst in my life and those around me. Ignoring problems doesn’t help either. However, if I can just sift through the dirt and find just one gleaming pebble, it makes walking through hard things bearable.

Is there such a thing as being too idealistic? Or too optimistic? Possibly. Probably. I mean, one has to get the ‘ole head out of the clouds and get some things done in order to just live normal life. However, I’m not sure being idealistic and optimistic isn’t a good thing. Just look all around you…things are dark, scary, depressing. Are we lying to ourselves when we focus on things that are good, true, and lovely? No, I believe we are battling the darkness. When I write here or talk with my friends about light, beauty, tea, gorgeous trees, and clouds, I’m not saying my life is perfect. I usually have my share right at that very moment of relational heartache, dirt, laundry, bills, and craziness. I am just choosing to look at the crack of light seeping in under my door. I have to hold onto that Light and follow it with all my might.

How ’bout you? What do you think?

~

 

Gratitude List {One Hundred Bits By Thanksgivng} #3

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{continuing my gratitude list}

21. Yesterday

22. Today

23. Sunlight flickering through field corn

24. Sumac’s brilliant red color

25. Friends to talk about home educating with

26. Commonplace journal for quotes to look back on

27. Sam and Ella chopping ham and potatoes for crockpot

28. 45 minute drive we have to get to bigger towns – time to think, pray, decompress

29. Prayer

30. Holidays coming to see family

~

Daily Diary {Autumnal Thoughts}

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There is a rich depth to autumn. A culmination of the years work, a closure, a going out with style. I’ve been wading through our full learning days to the core of beauty that this time of the year brings. It takes a conscious effort and choice to slow down and choose to take time to really see. To really soak my soul deep in the little things that are happening. Noticing the old-fashioned Amish corn-shocks, the swirl of fallen leaves behind you on the road, the birds flying southward overhead, wood smoke lingering in the air, the brilliance of the blue sky, and of course, the amazing, deep jewel colors of the tree splendor engulfing us.

The mood is mostly one of delight, a coming in, last of the zinnias and cosmos being picked for bouquets, the last moments of soaking up warm sun rays, the bringing out of fluffy quilts, the sipping of hot drinks. There is a somber tinge to this time too, a realization that death, and cold icy grip are at hand. The coming November especially starts to leech out the color, the green, the life landscape slowly becoming gray, brown, and stark, sharp black. Locally here, two friends have died from cancer, and that has me thinking of this whole seasonal shift, life outlook, and cycle of seasons.

All of this together becomes a kaleidoscope of color, moments, bleakness, thoughts, and most of all gratitude. This swirling mass, twirling, spinning, diving, a tapestry of life. Of which I can never be thankful enough for. It is a gift. A gift that becomes a question. A question that becomes a purposefulness. A purposefulness that brings one to setting aside the iPhone, the to-do list, getting down on a knee and squeezing those little ones, dropping a card in the mail, having people over. Painting a butterfly with your 5 year old instead of writing, reading a bit of The Magic Pudding with your 10 year old even when you are exhausted, laughing with him over the antics of Sam, Bill, and Bunyip Bluegum, not to mention the Pudding. It’s learning to listen, oh how I need to listen, both ears open wide, heart grasping at deep meanings that matter to my loved ones. Listen to my dear Amos, to my young-adults-in-the-making even when it’s 10:37 pm and tooth-picks are holding up my eyelids.  The endless cooking, dishes, laundry, even questions become a golden thread in this autumnal stitching, a beauty unsurpassed as it all is given out of a heart of thankfulness.

Rich, deep Autumn. Thank you for reminding me again of so much beauty, even in the midst of a dying away. A dying away of nature, a continual dying away of self, a laying aside of what easily besets. Till we meet again, I bid you adieu.

~