-
Backyard Bird Count
I know I should be counting birds – and I guess I sort of am. My little birds. One pajama-clad at 2:30 in the afternoon. One binocular wearing. Several scattered across the sun-dappled dirty dead grassed yard. One perched on a fence. Pencils, notebooks in five diminutive pairs of hands. Flitting. Fluttering. Flightless. You absolutely are my treasure. My collection.…
-
When you stay inside for several days …..
I like the way snow days turn our house into a kaleidoscope of activity and creativity. It’s why I am reminded once again that these are the ages I will miss most. So far the kids have turned Bergen into some sort of square robot guy. Riley made us a sampling of Nepali food called roti that was simple, yet…
Keep Reading . . .
share the good
My Friend Mary & The Beauty of Showing Up
parenting: the slipping away
-
This Is What I Did Yesterday.
Yesterday I: Consumed three helpings of snow cream. (If it’s an addiction – it is certainly a limited one, as I can only indulge in this particular addiction on one or two days a year. Thus, I will forgive myself for my excessive behavior.) Noticed that my hands look like the hands of a geriatric woman. Is it the cold?…
-
Pinterest Test Kitchen: Homemade Graham Crackers
Snow days are great baking days. After concocting the delicious tried and true oatmeal bar recipe with my little apron-clad helper Piper Finn, we decided to browse through the Cook This section of my Pinterest board. And we landed on – homemade chocolate chip graham crackers. Of course – if you follow that link – you’ll notice a gorgeous photo-worthy…
-
about cooking and serving.
London received a stand alone dry erase easel/chalkboard do-dad from her grandparents for Christmas this year. She loves that thing. Frequent to-do lists appear there. Stuffed animals’ names get put on long lists and directions for games the kids are playing show up frequently. Every night there are messages on the board for me or for Kevin. They usually involve…
-
Seriously. We’d be friends. I think I mean it.
Yes, I am aware that blogging about this event might make you think our family is obsessed. I give you permission to think as you’d like. (No, really, I give you permission.) (Wait – have you been waiting all this time for me to give you permission for freedom of thought?) Saturday night we drove to Asheville to a charming…
-
Words on the wall
Kevin needed a desk in his upstairs office. Our school room had three desks. It only seemed right to send one of those upstairs. Moving that desk out naturally meant that I needed to rearrange the space to accommodate the change. That, plus the acquisition of a long slim book shelf for $20 from a second hand shop. Also, this…
-
A question from the backseat –
“When was I born?” Otto Fox asks. “Was I born last? Was I the last baby?” I tell him he was. He was born last. He was the last baby. Pitifully sad noises. Sniffling. “What’s wrong, little son?” “Oh,” says the sad little four year old voice. “I don’t care for being last.”
-
home improvements – step by step
I’m pretty much never without a project. The steps at our home have been on my mind lately. I’ve seen so many fun ideas for stair steps – like the fabulous steps painted to look like a stack of classic novels. I’ve wanted to do something with them since we moved in but Kevin was hesitant to paint on the…
-
What Renting Has Taught Me …
You know I’m a lover of land and open space and farms and fields and long driveways. And growing up under my dad’s leading, I believe in the value of land. Of ownership. Of property and the freedom to do what you’d like with that property. The thought of belonging to a place and a place belonging to me is…
-
I’m blaming his father for his spunk.
Sometimes I have to ask myself, “What kind of ship am I running over here anyway?” (That’s a phrase I actually use, but now that I’m seeing it in type I think it’s a pretty silly phrase. Running a ship? Is that a thing people do?) We were at a friend’s house a few weeks ago for our co-op and…
-
Prairie Primer: The Long Winter
Finishing Laura Ingalls Wilder’s The Long Winter the same week as our state’s only snow fall was fortuitous. (Yes, I looked up both the spelling and the definition – just to be certain.) When we finish each of the books we celebrate in some Laura Ingalls-ish manner. (Gold Rush party. Venison dinner. Native American Festival.) Last night we had an…
-
Snow Day!
When you live in South Carolina and the sky spits and sputters several hours worth of flurries, you get unreasonably excited. My home school rule upon moving farther South and thus farther away from a guaranteed blanket of snow each winter is this: Upon sighting of the first flake, all school work is rendered inconceivable. Leave your desk. Don’t bother to…
