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the twilight zone
Have you ever spent one entire day thinking it was actually another day? You know, like writing down the wrong date all day or suddenly being surprised to discover it’s Wednesday when you thought it was Tuesday? I think maybe that happened to me today. I knew it was Wednesday. We had our co-op. That’s always on a Wednesday. But somehow I still feel as if I missed a day somewhere. Like one just slipped through my fingers. It doesn’t really surprise me though. Maybe it disappoints me. But it doesn’t surprise me. I spent an entire year thinking I was thirty-seven years old, only to discover on my birthday…
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The exchange
At one of the pottery shops we visited last weekend, an artist had a display of her hand drawn cards for sale. Mosely fell in love with a print of a white horse’s head, mane flowing. She held the small card encased in plastic. Admired it closely. Set it down. Walked over to the refreshment table. Wandered back to the card display. Caressed the card again. Put it down. Paused. Asked the artist,”How much does this card cost?” “$1,” the artist answered. Mosely sighed. “Oh.” Her shoulders drooped. She reached deep into her pocket. “All I have is one bottle cap.” (Yes. We gave the child a dollar.)
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My Friend Mary & The Beauty of Showing Up
… typing therapy …
parenting, continued
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Christmas Traditions
One small tradition we started a couple of years ago that I thought maybe I’d quietly back my way out of this year is the goofy little Christmas chain. The kids already asked me about this year’s chain before December even hit the calendar. So I coordinated and googled and pinterested (see how I made two words turn into verbs even when no one should do that?) and made a list of plans to write on the paper chains for all of the days leading up to Christmas. Some days were easy to plan – like Mosely’s birthday and the arrival of Papaw and Grandma and the arrival of Oma…
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Three strikes, you’re out
Why does it seem like when you are cooking food for yourself or your family, everything seems to turn out just fine, but when you decide to cook that exact same item to give away as a gift – it’s a total failure? I mean, I was just a mess in the kitchen tonight. I didn’t take any pictures because I don’t want anyone to see how bad it all was. Let’s see ….. Granola bars that I have now made so often we consider it a regular at our house. The honey all sank to the bottom, somehow dropping down in a way it never has before. They taste…
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good words VII
It is a miracle if you can find true friends, and it is a miracle if you have enough food to eat, and it is a miracle if you get to spend your days and evenings doing whatever it is you like to do, and the holiday season – like all the other seasons – is a good time not only to tell stories of miracles, but to think about the miracles in your own life, and to be grateful for them, and that’s the end of this particular story. – taken from a Lemony Snicket novel
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simple math
A drive south. plus A date night in Decatur. plus Good food at a cool restaurant that has what has to be the world’s coolest door handle ever. plus Dessert at a restaurant that perfectly fits Kevin and I. Cake & Ale. I loves me some cake and Kevin loves him some craft beers. plus Watching our buddy Tyler perform in his second ever live comedy show at Eddie’s Attic. equals A perfectly lovely way to spend an evening.
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The Right Word.
Five Finds Friday.
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The Christmas Memories
I’ve never really been one to go overboard on Christmas decorations. It’s hard to know where to store the stuff you pack up to get out all the Christmas goods. But my momma wasn’t like me. Goodness – she loved to decorate for the holiday. All through the house, everything, every room, received a Christmas makeover. This Christmas, living in this Wildwood house, all these wooden floors and extra mantles, a grand foyer and a set of stairs, well – I think it’s tapped into a touch of the Christmas decorating gene I can only assume comes from my mother’s Norton side. What with all the free hemlock branches and…
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fermenting
We made this. And by this I mean the liquid inside the bottle. And by we I mean Kevin and our friend Ben. It’s hard cider. Hard apple cider. Hard apple cider crafted by hand from apples picked in nearby North Carolina at our favorite orchard Skytop. I think they’re calling it Spider Cider. It’s been a work in progress. A learning experience. An art. An act of patience and perseverance. A lot of knowledge and know how on Ben’s part. A curiosity and willingness to learn on Kevin’s. (Mostly Alli and I just hung out while the process has been perking.) But today we celebrated. We ate lunch. We…
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field trippin’
If you live within an hour’s drive of Brevard, North Carolina and you have never visited the Pisgah Wildlife Education Center – you have been missing a jewel of a place. Tucked in at the base of two mountains and surrounded by streams and the lovely Davidson River, the Center has been one of our family’s favorite field trip destinations for several years. Can you ever really go wrong with mountain air, sunshine and outdoor education? Oh – and all of the classes are offered at no cost. No cost! Because of life and circumstances, this week was our first trip up there this school year. And to add to…
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battleground.
I’m not raising babies any longer. I was watching Otto rest in our bed last night, Kevin and I lying on either side of him – gazing at his freshly cut mo-hawk. (His request. His repeated request, actually.) He’s so capable. Been wearing big boy boxers for almost a year. Sticking his hands in his pockets. Conversing and sharing his thoughts and ideas. My days at home have changed. Oh – and how they’ve changed. I’m no longer shuffling nap times and scheduling my mornings to be home at a certain time. No directing of toddler-time activities and monitoring the play dough intake. There’s not a calendar on my fridge…
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what a grandpa does
Grandpas aren’t just good for taking naps in the hammock with. (Although no one was complaining about that treat.) They are also great for playing chess. Learning new strategies. And being reminded that Grandpa is not the kind of man that’s going to let you win. If you conquer him – you’ll know you’ve earned it, fair and square.
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the crying game.
My mother-in-law was a crier. A bona-fide crier. The Real Deal. Commercials. (Back when you had no choice but to view them in between your television show which you could not DVR.) Weddings. Novels. Birthdays. Graduations. The wind blowing. And – although I’m ashamed to admit this even now – her crying would sometimes embarrass me. I didn’t know how to handle it. I was a non-crier. Of the worst kind —- a prideful non-crier. Her tears made me uncomfortable. I didn’t have the right words to say. I wasn’t sure if I should hug her or leave her alone. I just didn’t understand. I guess I hadn’t lived long enough…
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satisfied.
Thanksgiving has passed. I cried out for help. You answered the call. Thank you very much. All in all, I think it was a pretty fabulous day of giving thanks and eating delicious food and relaxing with friends and family. I hope yours was as well. The day before the food feast, the kids went to work crafting personalized place mats for every member of our family, as well as our six guests. We used supplies we had on hand – which turned out to be primarily felt – and I think the results are sweet. We saved our own and let the guests take theirs home. We’ll definitely do…
