A snow day, aged one year.
Written on January 18th, 2022 ————————————————— In the wee hours of yesterday morning we received at least 10 inches of snow. It’s the biggest snow I can remember and certainly the biggest in our children’s lives. This snow conveniently fell on Martin Luther King Jr. day and Brad had the day off. He spent much of it shoveling. Shoveling our drive, shoveling the walk in front of the school, shoveling my dad’s drive, and then back to help shovel some of the students get out of their spots. He was fairly exhausted after that but still took the opportunity to go pick up some snowed-in friends so they could sled…
The Creativity of the Womb
With each pregnancy I’ve experienced I mourn the loss of creativity. Perhaps it’s not my creativity that is gone, but the energy and motivation to carry out the things I would like. Either way I miss the excitement that comes with making something new, whether it be in the kitchen, at the sewing machine or planted in the garden. It feels like there’s a gaping hole that I just don’t have it in me to fill, and even after 6 pregnancies I still wish I could not feel so “different” than I do when I’m not growing a human.
Robustness // 2022 Best of Photos
Over and over again I’ve had to remember what God has called me to, and decide that no matter what people say about me, no matter what others might think, no matter how insane or stupid it looks, no matter how much it doesn’t make sense. that I will keep on following the path that God laid out for me. It’s my path to walk and no one else’s.
And it’s the work of peasants, the everyday schlepping as a mother. There are bits of beauty that weave in through the madness: the beautiful loaves baked in the morning, the sweet conversations by candlelight in the waning afternoon light, and bowls of popcorn shared while reading together.
I tend to dread the colder months to come, but the taste of cooler weather has reenergized me for the fall months. There is so much beauty all year long, and I have to let go of one season to fully embrace the next. But for now I will live in summer, growing my garden, playing outside, weeding and wedding and more weeding, and probably another trip or two to swim in the lake before it shutters for the season.
But then the doldrums hit and we’re tired, we’re a little bit summered out (as much as it pains me to say that), it’s hot and muggy outside, and the kids become experts at either laying around or making epic messes.
A birthday evening.
I don’t really mind getting older, but sometimes the feel of it is jolting. The extra aches and pains, the lines and creases beginning to form on my face, and the lack of childlike energy all point to one inevitable thing: aging. I don’t mind aging but, like everyone else, I never imagined it would happen so quickly.
It’s so much easier to taste and see that the Lord is good in summer. The daisies are blooming alongside the road, and soon it will be the ditch lilies followed by the goldenrod and asters of late summer. Though there’s not much yet I can go out to the garden and literally eat things that grew from tiny seeds. What a miracle that alone is!
The smell of strawberry pie wafts through the air, freshly pulled from the oven and cooking on the butcher block for slicing after supper. She requested the pie after we brought home 30 pounds of freshly picked strawberries the day before.
A beautiful life
I sat outside this morning because I want to use the beautiful spaces God has given us better. I finally got the deck cleaned off and situated for summer over the weekend, so I thought I should pretend like every day is vacation and go read scripture on the red couch with my side of coffee and vitamin D.