Category: Seasons

Winter Ideas

amyofhearthridge1 Comment

Brimg_1653

{Good reading choice, boys. 🙂 }

We are slowly making it through the dreary, foggy winter days. We’ve had some glorious sunshine spilling through the bleak grays. The sun is a blessing, shooting out and then deep down into our souls. Here are a few of my favorite wintery things, currently.

  1. Listen to Malcolm Guite recite his poem.
  2. Take a hot shower while listening to Anne’s podcast. Bookish kindred spirits.
  3. Take winter walk with children, listening to their sweet thoughts. Make hot chocolate together when you get back.
  4. Read Amy’s lovely post on the new year. 
  5. Hunker down with a light read and a cup of coffee. Kate’s stories  are lovely or Charles has some good ones, too. These can be found through the public library.
  6. Create a nature journal, highlighting your favorite winter birds, creatures, or whatever suits you. I’m loving these journals. 
  7. Make scones and tea and listen to some haunting music.  She has a song on this particular CD that is inspired by The Highway Man by Alfred Noyes. Sad and thoughtful.
  8. Read poetry together. We love Favorite Poems Old and New by Helen Ferris.
  9. Peruse another’s  reading list for a new book. Go book shopping.
  10. Wash your bedding and snuggle down for a long winter’s nap.
  11. My children love LEGOS, blocks, and Schleich animals this time of year, especially.
  12. I’m looking forward to watching this very soon. 
  13. Put up copious amounts of twinkle lights. Ask my husband. He’ll verify my obsession. 😉
  14. Save up for a new mug or socks.
  15. Journal through your Bible. Memorize a Psalm.
  16. Move your comfy chair by your pellet stove. Wrap up in your favorite blanket. Read Gladys Taber.
  17. Bird watch. Google your favorite birds to hear their calls and watch videos on them. Bundle up and head outside to listen and observe.
  18. Make time to hang out with friends. For me, there is nothing like coffee with other mom friends.
  19. Go on a breakfast date with husband.
  20. Break out a map and plan a trip.
  21. Order free seed catalogs and dream.
  22. Susan Branch. She is so cheerful. 
  23. If you home educate your children, here is a lovely spot for inspiration.
  24. Go to local coffee shop and people watch.
  25. Make a big pot of soup and take some to someone you love. My mom is fantastic at this! ❤
  26. Practice your accents. 😉
  27. Go thrifting.
  28. Practice tying knots aka knitting. (ok, this was a joke about my knitting abilities.)
  29. Write real letters and post with pretty envelopes and stamps.
  30. Light a candle and shake fist at ice. Just kidding. {sorta}

What are you doing to celebrate the last months of winter? (or survive them? 🙂 )

~

Seed Cake

amyofhearthridgeLeave a comment

img_1760img_1759

“Come along in, and have some tea!” he managed to say after taking a deep breath. 

“A little beer would suit me better, if it is all the same to you, my good sir,” said Balin with the white beard. “But I don’t mind some cake – seed-cake, if you have any.”

“Lots!” Bilbo found himself answering, to his own surprise; and he found himself scuttling off, too, to the cellar to fill a pint beer-mug, and then to a pantry to fetch two beautiful round seed-cakes which he had baked that afternoon for his after-supper morsel.”

pg 8 The Hobbit, J.R.R. Tolkien

 

I’ve been so inspired lately by these lovely tales of courage, friendship, and love. Something I needed is found between the lovely pages of these classics. It’s the focusing on something outside of oneself and the example of bravery on the perilous journey of life. It’s caring for others and good more than ones own comfort and security. Ouch. These titles are definitely high on my list for cold winter months. I was so inspired that we made a seed cake today for tea time in honor of our Hobbit friends. Literary feasting is so lovely and I don’t want to forget these little moments with my children.

 

~

February Eve

amyofhearthridgeLeave a comment

img_1574

It was such a relief to talk with four friends last night. Over cafe au lait, salads, and various delicious sourdough sandwiches, we dug into our lives. Books, family, schedules, and home educating. Why do I wait so long to share life with friends? Why do I live life so often alone? Of course, we all have full lives. But taking the time to really visit, I see that many of the very things I’ve struggled with or find myself fretting about, echo the topics my friends were sharing. Maybe social media deludes me into thinking I am connecting. As the chai was sipped, ice tea savored, I thought about what one of the woman was saying. We all agreed that we compare too frequently and we live with way too much guilt. Our culture is merciless with standards of what it means to be “XYZ”. Unfortunately, the home educating, stay-at-home mom culture is no exception. For the most part, I think we would all agree that it’s our dream job. I know I’m living my dream life. Yet, we aren’t immune to all those voices floating around that whisper, “You aren’t enough.”  As I sit here, ready to turn the page on my calendar, on the cusp of a new, fresh month, I want to take a stand.  By the grace of God, I am enough. I will faithfully and patiently take one step forward at a time, taking care of the life I’ve been abundantly given. I will extend grace to those around me, because of the love and grace God lavishes on me. That includes grace to myself. I’m going to make mistakes, I’m going to fail, react in anger, and be impatient. That doesn’t me worthless. I’m going to dust myself off, stand up, and just do the next small thing in front of me. Sow that seed. I’m going to make an effort again to not isolate myself, reach out and say, “Hey, you too?” and believe by faith that I am loved beyond measure.

Happy February Eve.

 

~

 

Because {why I do what I do}

amyofhearthridge1 Comment

img_1662

“I have found that it is the small everyday deeds of ordinary folks that keeps the darkness at bay. Small acts of kindness and love.”

~Gandalf, The Hobbit, J.R.R. Tolkien

 

Match struck. Wick touched. The smiles, clink of dishes, delicious smells lingering, dinner is served. The twinkling reflection of candlelight in my loved ones eyes beckons me. The why behind what I do, my because.

A little boy’s hand leading me to our old rocking chair. The Little Train by Lois Lenski clasped in his chubby hand. He smiles through each whistle and toot of the story, even through we’ve ridden this track many times before. This is my because.

img_1570

Soft stacks slipping. Fold, stack, fold, stack. Squeals of delight, or rather rolled eyes, a favorite shirt or finally-my-jeans-mom that are freshly clean, ready for new adventures. Feet pounding up stairs, drawers slammed. Tangible everyday deeds keeping the darkness at bay. My because.

Grocery lists, faded recipe cards, old Bible-camp baked oatmeal ingredients, long lines, let me rub my sore feet. Fresh fruit in hand, gulps of cold milk, buttery popcorn piled high. Feasts for family. Kindness and loved stirred, baked, and served.  Because of Love given, I am here to love,…my because.

img_1655

Listening, answering, helping. Relationship ruminating. Tears, angry words. I’m sorrys, and I love yous. The sag and relief to their shoulders, the sparkle flaring up in downcast eyes. The because behind all the time and agony spent. It is so very worth it.

I read somewhere “you can only come to the morning through shadows”…these moments, these little things we do, this January road I’m walking is beautiful. Why? Because. Because of the beautiful people served and the life lived together.

img_1545

 

Eggs, Bacon, and Toast

amyofhearthridge7 Comments

Crack, sss, pop. Egg to oil. Toast in, toast out. Gliding smooth, buttery-knife, toasted bread warmth wafts up. Rough, brown-striped towel, wipe the oil of fingers, hearts and worries off. It’s breakfast for dinner. Black smoke billowing from oven-crisped bacon, doors and windows thrown open to drizzle-y cold rain with icy fingers licking the edges. Ring in and breathe in the new year air.

Eyes on frying pan and toaster, I slip open, slide out the bookmark,  and drink in these words,

My mother said, “I don’t want to watch this.” So I followed her into the kitchen and we sat there listening to the pandemonium and the wind and the rain. Then my mother said, “The wash!” which we had forgotten. She said, “Those sheets must be so heavy that they’re dragging in the mud, if they haven’t pulled the lines down altogether.” That was a days work lost for her, not to mention the setting hens and the fryers. She closed one eye and looked at me and said, “I know there is a blessing in this somewhere.” We did have a habit of sometimes imitating the old man’s way of speaking when he wasn’t in the room. Still, I was surprised that she would make an outright joke about my grandfather, though he’d been gone a long time by then. She always did like to make me laugh.” 

–Gilead, Marilynne Robinson,  pg 35

Pfff. Up pops the toast. I put it down again. 1 1/2 times seems to work the best. I can’t read the worn numbers on the settings and don’t want too. 1 1/2 times down is perfect. Eggs up and over, eggs done. I stick them into the still-warm oven, next to the bacon, my crock-ware plate hot to the touch. Raspy, paper towel soaks up the excess oil. Crack, sss, pop. Three eggs in the pot.

The sounds of the house are, besides my cooking, low murmurs of voices, the wood pellet stove humming, a cackle or two from a movie. Smoke still lingers in the air, few evergreen bits on floor, Christmas tree was put to rest today. The twinkle lights still live on though, light being a source of sanity in the northern parts of this wintry world.

Flipping, buttering, oven door opening, my mind flits through this day. Late night makes for late mornings, holiday break lingering just a bit longer here, blocks, books, and a few random stray balloons, bits of joy for my children’s moments.

Laundry, hot and dry, piles for me. “I know there is a blessing in this somewhere.” rings true through the tears, conversations, and greasy moments of today, each day. Even though, I’m not sure the narrator of Gilead, John Ames, particularly cared for his grandfather’s militantly positive outlook, there is indeed a blessing to be found in ones laundry piles, ones head cold, ones icy roads, and cancelled dinner dates. Just what that is, we don’t always know, or maybe *gasp* never find out, or if we are really truly looking or stilling ourselves, we just might see the edge of some sort of blessing.

The frost-fringed, foggy, wonderland winterscape as we crawl along iciness back home, the warmth of a loved ones raiment, a bit of fresh and sunshine next to skin. The moments with nothing in them. Have you ever felt yourself bored or anxious when there is nothing next? I wonder why. Nothing next can be good. The moments of illness that have us closing our eyes, sipping and breathing the steaming tea, resting in the stillness of the Savior. Be still, and Know.

Blessings in the slightly greasy, yet beautiful moments of life. January days are here.

 

~

 

 

{Thankful} 2016

amyofhearthridge4 Comments

_mg_3220

2016 has so many things to be thankful for…

  • the long hours talking with my husband as we worked on remodeling projects
  • many hours of peaceful painting while listening to podcasts 😉
  • my trip to England and Paris with my mom and sister, so many memories of beauty
  • our home educating journey following the philosophy of Charlotte Mason, a new confidence in the methods and a relaxed enjoyment of what we are learning together
  •  Charlotte Mason book study and community group, Excelsior Guild
  •  precious children to love
  •  my husband and I growing in our marriage, and Chinese food/thrift store dates
  • our new home, Hearth Ridge, and the surrounding natural beauty
  • the sale of our previous home, Hidden Valley, bittersweet, yet so thankful for finding a buyer that loved it as much as we did
  • my beautiful reclaimed wood built-in library ❤
  • books, oh my dear friends 😉
  • my hard-working husband, allowing me to stay home with our children
  • health
  • good friends, coffee, book, and life chats
  • my kitchen cabinet knobs, small in size, but big in personality. So cheerful!
  • new niece on my side and new nephew on my husband’s side
  • memoir writing class
  • the lovely Presence of the Lord throughout my days

 

Wanna share your list? Please feel free to in the comments! I’d love to hear.

 

~

Merry Christmas

amyofhearthridgeLeave a comment

823a798a87a5430e06a29355c4b10623

Rembrandt Harmensz. van Rijn 1606 – 1669

Simeon’s Song of Praise (1669)

 And behold, there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon, and this man was just and devout, waiting for the Consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him. And it had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ. So he came by the Spirit into the temple. And when the parents brought in the Child Jesus, to do for Him according to the custom of the law, 28 he took Him up in his arms and blessed God and said:

“Lord, now You are letting Your servant depart in peace,
According to Your word;
For my eyes have seen Your salvation
Which You have prepared before the face of all peoples,
 A light to bring revelation to the Gentiles,
And the glory of Your people Israel.”

Luke 2: 25-32

~

 

Hope

amyofhearthridge1 Comment

img_1368

Snow pouring down. Cold, wet, gray, and blindingly white. Mirrors my soul a bit. Yet, hope is like a thing with feathers, indeed. Somehow just acknowledging that I can’t control others, that I have to love despite hate and frustrations, and that I am loved deeply and completely despite my flaws. This hope truly perches in my soul. It takes wing and it soars into the doubting parts of myself, it alights on the self-loathing and pecks away at it. It sings beautifully in the face of the storm, no matter its fury. I gaze at my new, wonderful bird feeder. It has been inundated with Dark-Eyed Juncos. Fluffy, fat, delightful fellows. They don’t seem to see the snow. They shake it off, dance a bit, grab the seed, and flutter in happiness. Those seeds of hope. There is always joy, love, and light in any bit of darkness. Jesus is that Hope. A gentleness and love pours from Him, making me great, strengthening me to sing again and again in the face of bracing winds, and icy fingers of life. Hope to sing long and loud, hope to rise up on wings like eagles.

 

{ Emily Dickinson’s poem Hope is a Thing with Feathers, Psalm 18:35, Isaiah 40:31}

 

~

Ginger Snaps

amyofhearthridge1 Comment

img_1072

These are so delicious. Soft, chewy, and spicy.  Just thought I would share one of our favorite autumn and winter cookie recipes. These are what I’m giving our neighbors for Christmas this year.

(I adapted this recipe from online years ago, so forgive me for not giving due credit!)

Ginger Snaps

1/2 cup melted butter

1 cup sugar

1 egg

1/2 cup molasses

2 cups flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon ginger

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon salt

 

~Beat butter and sugar together. Add egg. Stir in molasses. Add dry ingredients. Roll into balls. Roll in sugar. I like to use parchment paper on my pans. If you double or triple this recipe, be careful with the molasses. I actually use 3/4 cup of molasses on a doubled recipe.

Bake in a 350 degree oven for 8-10 minutes or until firm. These are good warm, but GREAT second day, cooled and chewy. Great for dipping in coffee or milk. 🙂

Yum!  🙂

~

 

 

Love

amyofhearthridge2 Comments

img_1372

Have you ever thought that people give love the way they understand it?  It might be a hot meal prepared for us, hugs given, kind words, gifts, or working hard to provide for us. The way love is given and received is a complicated thing. We all are shaped by our personalities, upbringing, and experiences, from a baby, fast forwarding to who we are now.

As a follower of Jesus Christ, my love should grow and move beyond just my understanding. It begins to become something that defies all explanation and boxes that I can put it in. It transcends how I was raised or my personalities and experiences. It begins to be unexplainable.

Why?  Jesus Christ.  He is my Ultimate Example. He humbled Himself to become a lowly person. He came from the Throne Room and chose not only to be human, but the lowest form.  He gives love in a way that I will never understand and it defies all finite logic. You can’t figure this sort of Love out with your mind.  I have to take it by faith.

I was lying on my bed, comfy beneath my quilts, when these thoughts started rumbling around in my head. Maybe something between a desperate prayer for help in all my relationships, and the half dreamlike state I find myself in before the first hot cup of coffee.

What if I could see clearly the why behind how people love?  What if I could read their minds? What if I could receive their love perfectly and give love perfectly to each person I  meet?  It could radically change the way relationships and the world works. However, I can’t do this perfectly in a fallen world.  I have to by faith choose to love like Jesus. It isn’t easy, but far too often I use the difficulty of something as an excuse to not even try.

I am super challenged to gaze at the Amazing Love Jesus lavishes on me.  I’m challenged to take this love by faith and not try to figure it out. Just to bask under it, believe it, and live through it. Loving that child when they are super difficult because Jesus loves difficult me.  Not trying to guess and judge suspiciously the motives of people around me, but to love and care for them with no strings attached.  Loving with no fear, because relationships are going to hurt, expose, use, and frustrate me.  I’m challenged because Jesus loved without fear. He was ridiculed, abandoned, and killed, yet He didn’t let that hold back His love. Loving and accepting myself as a creation of God, not by some arbitrary standard the culture measures with or experiences that have influenced my view of myself.

I want to love as Jesus loves, a defying Love. This is a “radical” love that rejects all hurt, hate, and frustrations. Love that views people and relationships as the main reason for living, working, and dying. Jesus loves people! Nothing can ever be more important to Him then the saving love and redemption of all people. A relationship between Him and us. I waste far too much time focusing on trivial things and forget His unconditional love.  And then I start thinking too much and distrusting too often. I try to figure out all the catch phrases in the Christian culture…tough love, love the sinner not the sin, discipleship, theology, and on and on.  Maybe there is an element of truth in them, but the truth comes back to Jesus. Just love. For me, I must move away from rationalizing, figuring things out, judging, or categorizing and begin to love in the raw.

I’m unfinished, and unlovable and yet Jesus loves me with a PERFECT, unending love. He moves, working in me to strengthen me in right choices against my sinful nature and hatred and craziness, but His first ingredient is love. Jesus loves all the bare, insecure parts of me because He is Love. I don’t have to understand any part of this, I just have to believe it. May I love even a fraction like this!

~

Harold E. Kohn

amyofhearthridgeLeave a comment

img_0747

Winter Thoughts

Long ago geographers and anthropologists proved that civilization advances most rapidly in the temperate zones where there is a mixture of weather conditions – summer balminess followed by autumn chill and wintry blasts of wind and snow. The year-round warmth of the tropics makes for spiritual torpor, mental laziness, and physical dullness. It takes all kinds of weather to stimulate men to be at their best.

     While we pray for lives full of sunshine and pleasantness, God could do us no greater harm than to answer these prayers, for it takes all kinds of weather to grow a soul. Radiant days are necessary, when bright blessing shine down upon us from above and we absorb providential goodness as a sunny hillside soaks up light. Rainy days are needed when the spirit is refreshed and cleansed as when leaves, grasses, and crops of countless forests and fields drink deeply of heaven’s plenty. But wintry cold and snowy blasts from the North are also required in the temperate life -days when our lives are revealingly tested just as hard winds, heavy snows, and slashing sleet prove the strengths and weaknesses of a Northern woods, bowing snow-laden evergreen limbs in humility and breaking rotten branches off all the trees. So life’s hard weather demonstrates in us what deserves to last and what ought to fade and die. Only winter clearly shows which trees are evergreen!

     All weathers make a soul. It was after blindness descended upon John Milton that he wrote his sublimest poetry. Beethoven’s loveliest sonatas were composed after he was stricken with deafness. What would Lincoln be without his lifelong seizures of melancholy? What would Christ be with be without His cross? 

     An American tourist in Italy watched a lumberjack at work. As the logs floated down the swift mountain stream the lumberman would thrust his hook into a particular log and draw it aside.

“Those logs all look alike, ” said the tourist. “Why do you pick out just a few?”

“They are not all alike,” the lumberman replied. “Some were grown low on the mountainside where they were protected all their lives from harsh winds. Their grains are coarse. They are good only for lumber, so I let them pass on down the stream to the lumber mills. But a few logs grew on the mountain top. From the the time they were tiny seedlings they felt the lashings of high winds and the weight of heavy snows, and they grow strong and tough and fine-grained. We do not use these for ordinary lumber. No, sir! These few are especially selected for choice work.”

     So God uses wind buffeted souls for His choicest work.

Thoughts Afield

Harold E. Kohn

pg 132-133

Thinking this morning more on this and this lovely piece here also!