…to grow things.
…to knit with a kitten on my lap.
…to wear wool socks.
…to sew a dress.
…to draw my own herbal grimoire.
…to drink wine as the moon rises through the trees.
…to sit around a bonfire in the cold of winter with friends and family, roasting s’mores.
…to read a new book with rain pattering against the windows.
…to watch the original Dark Crystal, and hope the new series doesn’t ruin it all.
…to make every ornament for the tree next month.
…to curl up with my love in a cold, dark house under warm, thick blankets.
Today’s page came out so well, I had to share it:
I also had to share this cuteness. Little Lanta likes to nap in the strangest places.
Dawn staining the horizon pink.
This is the view from the side porch. The vines are Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon. I can’t wait for the mornings to warm up enough to have our coffee out here. This morning is a chilly 47 degree Fahrenheit. Brrrr! I’ll have my coffee inside, snuggled up to my Cassie-girl instead.
Have a great morning, everyone!
Oh! What a night. At midnight, we got up to find the smoke detector that was losing battery. The beeping drove poor Cassie-girl into a quivering, whimpering mass. Fortunately, we finally figured out how to turn on the heat. At least we weren’t freezing our buns off at midnight, while we got the beeping to go away. I guess I’ll be adding 9 volt batteries to the list of things I need to get while in town today.
Tuesdays are always our busiest and latest day. Usually I’m pulling into the drive around 7 PM. With a high of 55 today, I think a crockpot full of stew is going to be just the thing to welcome us home!
I am still trying to learn my way around this new house. There is so much to do! Not just the everyday cleaning, cooking and chores that come with a home and kids and pets, but also the unpacking and general cleanup any new move requires. When there are almost five acres worth of cleanup it’s a whole different story.
I told Doug that we a a little out of practice as homeowners. We’ve been renting so long, the list of tasks as a homeowner and fledgling homesteader looks ginormous!
Oh! The things life throws at you. I am, as anyone can see, not posting. However, this time it is a deliberate decision, not neglect. Life has thrown some curveballs at me and none of it is shareable. I am willing it all to be over soon, so we can all settle back into our version of normalcy. That way I can get back to posting and sharing in this space. One really good thing I can share is I am back to knitting and working on a Rikke Hat for the cold snap we have coming up.
Also, R.I.P. Stephen Hawking. Your brilliant mind shall be missed, rest now.
At times I find it hard to believe I am in my forties, married, and have two children (one of which is my size).
Today I turn forty-three.
I love my birthday, though I don’t actually celebrate it in the traditional sense. For me it is more of a personal new year. It is a day when I love to think back on the past year and my life in general. When I would love to sit in a cafe bookstore, surrounded by the things I love: books, a journal, a good pen, and coffee.
A day to reflect, and then an evening with my family is all I would need to make my birthday special.
I do not shy away from it, or hide it’s existence, or wish I was younger. I don’t see the point. I know others do, and they have their own reasons for doing so. To me, a birthday is a celebration of the unique person who is me. On that day, at that hour, a singular being was born into this world. A person who will bring their own creativity and wonder and beauty to existence.
And that is reason enough to celebrate.
Today, I will actually not get the chance to spend my birthday as I wish.
Instead, I will be driving all over town as a homeschool mom. Tonight I will get home late and in the dark to make dinner. But after that, when the kitchen is clean, I will break open a hard cider, cuddle on the couch with my husband, and toast to one more year ’round the sun.
Yes, I know it’s Valentine’s Day today. Congratulations to any and all who follow it and have reason to enjoy it.
But, for us, it is the three year anniversary of our arrival in California.
This is momentous.
You see, Doug and I have a bit of wanderlust in us. I’ve written about our many moves before.
Probably the longest we have ever been in any one state is when we were in Georgia, and even those ten years were broken up by a nine month stint in Colorado.
Three years in Cali, makes this the second longest stay in any one state in our marriage. We have always been excited about the new place we will be calling home. Every one of them has had their appeal.
California has graced us with glorious weather, good friends and some heart racing experiences (wildfires and floods!). We have gotten to camp, see whales, keep chickens, homeschool, ride horses, have our first taste of country life. Well, at least I have. Doug’s a small town boy, born and bred.
So, while today most people are celebrating Valentine’s Day, we are celebrating our Caliversary.
Happy three years, Graces.
I grew up in cities and suburbs. My mother’s idea of camping involves a
top-of-the-line fifth wheel with all the conveniences of home a hotel room without room service. I was raised to play inside, keep my dress clean, and blow out the curl of my hair.
My mother has no idea where she went wrong with me.
I live in a tiny cabin in the mountains. My kids only wear shoes to go outside if they have to go into the chicken coop. Yes, we keep chickens. The driveway down from the main roads is steep enough to give FedEx fits. We can see the Milky Way from the deck of our house because we have no light pollution.
I love the warmth of the sun on my skin.
I love the feel of dirt beneath my feet.
The idea of sitting outside beneath a tree, just for the chance to feel the solidness of the trunk behind my back and the wind in my curls is relaxing.
Actually being able to do it is lovely.
The days we do go down to the city are stressful, and I look forward to the weekend when we can all just settle at home.
Doug and I have been on a search for a home of our own. A place where we can steward the land and the wildlife. Having lived in the country for the last two years, I can safely say I have absolutely no desire to live in the city or a suburb ever again.
Of course, I have no crystal ball to tell me what the future will bring, but here’s hoping.
Pluviophile: (n) a lover of rain; someone who finds joy and peace of mind during rainy days
I’m not very fond of labels, but I came across this term recently. I had never heard it before, but I absolutely love it. We live in California, where the sun shines on us almost unbated for months. When winter comes, it brings rain.
I love the rain.
I grew up in south Florida, where rain would come at precisely the same time every day. At 3:20 PM a sudden deluge would hit. Traffic would stop on the highways due to poor visibility, and you could not see the buildings across the street. Fifteen minutes later the sun would be shining again and the pavement would be steaming.
Here, the rain brings with it cooler weather. By the time the rainy season comes around, I am just parched for rain as the brown grass. We light the wood stove, and I love to snuggle in and write in my journal. My daily journaling goes from two or three to five or six during these months.
I especially love it when it’s the weekend and I don’t have to be anywhere. My husband and I will sit in a quiet house and write together (He prefers to write on his laptop.) Sometimes I’ll light candles. I always want to light the wood stove if it’s cold enough. Other times I’ll read from my current book pile. Right now my wrist is still healing from my sprain, but the itch to knit is very strong on these morning. We always have a French press of coffee to share in the morning. I don’t think I could live without coffee. I am Colombian after all.
I know lately the word hygge has been much bandied about the internet, and I can see how the weather can affect a people so strongly as to make them create a culture around the survival of the cold dark of the Arctic winter.
But I like pluviophile.
It suites me.
I love my sun, and I know I fall apart without enough of it, but learning to not just enjoy, but find joy in the patter of rain and the smell of the damp earth and the warm coziness inside is heavenly.