Crazy Love

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I have a crazy, crazy love of things….

So many little things…

Crazy, crazy, swirling, circling…these are the days of needing to reduce the daily life down into teeny increments. The copper tea pot, the baby sock, the drip of green paint slowly oozing down the side of the paint can, the u-shaped upside down bit of light from the table lamp, hour-glassing up the wall, the click of wooden blocks, post it notes, a black crayon, jug of distilled water nearby, smell of cornbread, can opener, shocking yellow bath towel, crossed off days on a nearly spent August, weeds taller than I, said green paint under finger nails, sunflower seed shells, two shoes without mates, white barn salt shaker, blue flicker of gas, glisten of waning light on ham slices, moonshine on roofs of cars below,  distant cry from crib, squares of blue & green outside, piece of spaghetti stuck to foot, the off button on the podcasts, the sign-out tab on social media, and the hesitant smile, side glance of a child, probably wondering where his mother has gone.

So many little, crazy things to love with a crazy, exhausted love.

~

Monday Ponderings {August 19th}

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“…nothing was more servile than the love of pleasure, or more princely than a life of toil…” 

Ourselves, Book 2, p. 52

Charlotte Mason

{Interesting flower at a botanical gardens…it reminds me of Dr.Seuss, how ’bout you? Lovely memories of my birthday visit! Thinking on this idea that I jotted down in my commonplace journal, starting off the week. Happy Monday!}

~

Dragon Poison

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grateful for…

  • coolness with sunshine
  • Lorna Doone shortbread biscuits
  • morning talk with my husband before he’s off to work
  • orange-y shampoo from my sister
  • podcast on tea, learning the herbal tea isn’t really tea, it’s a herbal infusion
  • pen & ink drawings,  how-to videos on youtube
  • Nancy Willard’s Anatole series
  • watermarked paper
  • finished book about journaling as a way of life
  • pumpernickel bread (and the word, pumpernickel, so lovely)
  • little boy’s imagination about “dragon poison”, a old bottle with some sort of concoction in it
  • little daughter who kissed a package of butter, I understand, dear, I do!
  • baby who holds his feet together in a praying pose
  • poem by Robert Siegel, “A Pentecost of Finches”
  • commonplacing some thoughtful lines from a new favorite magazine, Common Place Quarterly
  • boiling corn on the cob with a daughter
  • gingerbread cake
  • trying new recipe of fish tacos and the family loving them
  • Loreena McKennitt
  • a pool of ideas for our learning year coming together
  • my trusty apron, so faithful, new bit of fabric for another
  • starry skies during early morn nursing moments

 

What are you grateful for today?

~

 

 

Questions

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May I put life on pause and catch up on sleep? Can I find some space from the children to plan for the children, an upcoming school term, with thoughtfulness, grace, and purpose? Is there anything more beautiful than barn swallows swooping through the light pink and pale blue early morn? Is there a reason I feel like crying even though I have a supremely blessed life? How do I conquer all the piles in my home, piles of books, piles of clothing, piles of fabric for curtains, piles of hopes, dreams, piles of dishes needing tender loving care? How can I not miss the moments that are flying by, the teeny toes, the little eyes looking at me with their own questions pooling deep behind, and the butterfly fluttering on by? How can I enjoy the warmth and sunshine of summer from my deep, dark nursing chair cave, a sticky, squirming, DARLING, boy suckling from my breast? Where do I find mental room for on-going, never-stopping conversation swirling, rising and falling around me? How does my marriage grow and become beautiful without attention? Where do I find the well of energy, creativity, and get-up-and-go to cook for these lovely eaters here? Where do daring dreams go when they are crowded out by equal and lovely daily dreams? How does the weight melt off when one finds themselves in a sitting season? How do you know what is the next right thing to do? Where does one go after the last sip of delicious morning coffee or afternoon tea is gone, the empty bottom of cup reminding you of something? How do you find a prayer to pray when the reservoir is dry? How do you answer all these exhausted questions that float up and out and settle on down around your bowed shoulders? How do we take up our cross and follow when our ground lies fallow?

Just a few of the questions I’m asking myself today.

~

The Slow Work of Leavening

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“…any experiment that can benefit by one hairbreadth any single human life is a thousand times worth trying. But those whose hands have tried the most, and whose eyes have seen the furthest, have come back to regard first the deeper evangel of individual lives, and the philanthropy of quiet ways, and the slow work of leavening others one by one with the spirit of Jesus Christ…” 

~ Henry Drummond

Celtic Daily Prayer, p.708

(emphasis mine)

~

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.

~

Monday Ponderings {May 20th}

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{No filter here, folks. This is a farm near our home! Gorgeous.}

~praying this as a mother today (hopefully, you can apply it to your situation, this is beautiful food for thought!)~

“Such as I have I sow, it is not much”

Said one who loved the Master of the field;

“Only a quiet word, a gentle touch,

Upon the hidden harp strings, which may yield

No quick response; I tremble yet I speak

For Him who knows the heart,

So loving, yet so weak.”

And so the words were spoken, soft and low,

Or traced with timid pen;

Yet oft they fell

On soil prepared, which she would never know,

Until the tender blade sprang up, to tell

That not in vain her labor had been spent;

Then with new faith and hope more bravely on

She went.

 

~Francis Ridley Havergal

Opened Treasures

May 15th entry

March Reads

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{a nature journal entry from January- the children and I enjoy doing these together!}

Hello Book Friends! What did you end up reading in March? This is what I finished in March, busy month, I’m slowing down physically, as I’m due with another child soon. I started many fantastic books and hopefully, I’ll be able to finish some of those.

Devotions: The Selected Poems of Mary Oliver by Mary Oliver (****) – This was a 450+ page anthology of Oliver’s poetry. I checked it out from the library following her death earlier this year. Oliver is one of my favorite modern poets, A Thousand Mornings, being my favorite collection of hers. Overall, I loved this and really enjoyed revisiting poems I’ve read before over the years as this is a collection from most of her poetry books. Poetry seems to really be feeding my soul during the last bits of winter and into early spring.

The Invisible Child: On Reading and Writing Books for Children by Katherine Paterson (****) – I love digging into the minds of authors and this book was wonderful for that. This is a collection of essays on life, reading, and writing by the author of the delightful Bridge to Terabithia, among many other things. I had to read it slowly, but it was fantastic and I jotted down many quotes in my commonplace.

The Holy Bible (*****) – Matthew, Mark, a little bit of the Psalms. So lovely to just keep rereading over Jesus’ life. I’m really blessed by this practice!

~