Carried on the Wind

Snow

2012-01-18T20:48:00.000-08:00

We had a dusting of snow this week, a rare treat here in the Pacific Northwest. My kids get so excited and love to go play in it. They say things like "Mom, I think we're snowed in!" and "Have you ever seen so much snow?" I grew up on the prairies of Alberta, so yes, I have seen "so much snow". And then some. I like to tell them stories of how we used to get drifts taller than they are, deep enough to dig caves in. They can hardly imagine it! Someday I will take them to play in some real snow, but until that they'll have to be happy with this.

Poppy makes a snow angel.

Happy girl!

Raphael rode his balance bike in the snow. In pajama pants. In Crocs.

And Peregrine ran around shoveling driveways. (Lest the 1/4 inch of snow prevent some poor soul from getting out of the house.) Also in pajama pants. With leans underneath.

Our house in it's snowy glory.

And the littlest snow princess, Pearl. She loved it and raced around happily with the kids.

An Evening In

2012-01-15T13:56:00.000-08:00

On Thursday Erik and I celebrated ten years of marriage. God painted the sky in lovely colors in honor of the occasion!

We had a lovely Evening In. I made a nice dinner, set a special table for two, and the kids acted as our servers. Peregrine decided a pirate theme was appropriate for our romantic dinner so he decorated with pictures of ships and sea captains! He also named the "restaurant" Red Rackham's: Fine Scurvy Dining fit for a Sea Captain. Aaaarhg, Matey!

There were some interesting characters underfoot, literally. Here they are under the table in the fire's light.

Our dessert, appropriately named Red Rackham's Ship.

And here we are; our table for two at various times seated three, or four, or five or six. But that is a good picture of our life together; we started out as two and God has blessed us with four more! It was a very special evening in with our little family, reminiscing about the past, enjoying the present, and dreaming of our future. (And last night we got to go out, just the two of us, and enjoy some uninterrupted conversation.) Here's to many more years together!

From Our Home to Yours

2012-01-02T16:03:00.000-08:00

This is the letter I sent our with our Christmas cards this year.

12 December 2011

Dear Friends,

Greetings from our home to yours! We’d love to invite you in for a cup of tea and a long visit, but this will have to do. These are busy years! As we look forward to our tenth anniversary, we’re a bit surprised to find ourselves still living in Oregon. We’d planned to move overseas, but Erik had cancer in our first year of marriage. Praise God he’s now healthy and cancer free! Then, of course, we added four children to our family, which can’t really be called “little” anymore! We’ve enjoyed living here and being near family, good friends, and a wonderful church.

Recently we’ve felt a stirring to to revisit the dream we had when we first set out together. We’re slowly pulling up roots and planning a round-the-world journey and pilgrimage. We’re preparing to put our home on the market, and when it sells we’ll leave, traveling slowly, visiting people and places, and plugging into communities and churches. Our plans are loose, and we hope to be led by God as we go, willing and able to change directions as opportunities arise. At the end of this journey, we hope to settle down longer term in another country. We’re excited about this new chapter in our lives! In the meantime though, life goes on, and here’s a glimpse into what that looks like from day to day:

Erik continues to work for our local public utility company as a substation wireman electrician. We’re thankful for his stable job. He enjoys photography and is always learning and trying new things. A few years ago he built a coffee roaster and roasted for a number of local businesses as a side hobby/business. As of the last few months, he’s given that up and is only roasting small batches for himself.

I keep busy taking care of the kids and our home. I’m happy that many of the things I enjoy fit right in with my job description; I love cooking, sewing, crafting, and reading, and there are plenty of all those to be done! I’m educating the kids at home, which is challenging at times, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. It’s fun to learn right along with them. This fall we participated in a homeschool co-op that meets one day a week, and the kids took some fun classes. I enjoyed helping out with the little ones.

Peregrine just turned 9, and has lots of interests. He’s an excellent reader, and loves building, from Lego creations to paper crafts and forts. He likes to draw comics and write stories. He’s also taking karate and just passed his second test, earning a brown stripe on his white belt.

Poppy is 6 1/2 and also enjoys drawing and making crafts. She’s learning to read and had fun taking Irish Step Dancing at Co-op. She loves pink and purple, fairies, unicorns, dolls and stuffed animals. All that said, she can rough and tumble and loves to get messy. She’s very generous and thoughtful.

Raphael is a busy and independent 3 1/2 year old. It doesn’t occur to him there might be things he shouldn’t do alone! I’m trying to take advantage of that by giving him responsibility and letting him work alongside me. He keeps me laughing with the funny things he says and life with him is never boring!

Pearl is still our baby at 1 1/2. She finally started walking and is pleased to have “found her feet”. Prior to this she had a pretty efficient and funny way of scooting around the floor on her bottom! She’s so sweet and happy, a joy to all. It’s fun to watch her discover the world around her.

We’re all excited about our upcoming changes, although there are many things we’ll miss about our life here. We’re glad it’s so easy to keep in touch. If you’re not already on facebook with me, I’d love to connect with you there; my name is Rebeca Groover. I also try to keep my blog updated with pictures of the kids, tales of our adventures, and things I think about. You can read it at www.carriedonthewind.com.

Thanks for taking the time to catch up! We hope that someday soon our paths will cross. May you be filled with God’s love, joy, and peace this Christmas and in the coming year!

With love,

Erik and Rebeca, Peregrine, Poppy, Raphael, and Pearl

Saint Lucia

2011-12-20T09:26:00.000-08:00

December 13th was Saint Lucia day, but we waited until the weekend to celebrate so that Erik could be home with us. Poppy and I made these gluten free buns from the Spunky Coconut. While they were baking Erik sat with the kids and read Lucia: Saint of Light. It's a lovely book which tells the story of Lucia, as well as explaining some of the traditions that have risen in remembering her, especially in the Scandinavian countries. She was known for her purity, love for Christ, and care for others. I love that we remember her right before Christmas, as it seems we need to keep being reminded that it is more blessed to give than to receive. When the buns were done, Poppy got dressed up as "the Lucia bride", remembering that Lucia chose not to marry so that she could serve Christ without distraction. The red sash reminds us that she was martyred for her faith and love for her heavenly bridegroom. Poppy served us the buns, just as Lucia used to give out food to those in need. It is said that she would go into the catacombs where Christians were in hiding, and in order to keep her hands free to carry food, she wore a wreath of candles on her head. While I love the idea of a flaming crown, I thought this wool felt one was a little more practical and safe. (The pattern was in Living Crafts magazine a few years ago.) This is the first year we've really celebrated Saint Lucia Day and I think we've established another family tradition. I think it's so important to make our remembrance of the saints meaningful and special for the children. May we all be brave, loving, and kind like Saint Lucia!

Saint Herman of Alaska and Spiced Snickerdoodles

2011-12-14T08:17:00.000-08:00

Father Herman with Northern Lights behind him.
Painting by Poppy and I, with a little clip-art monk.

December 13th is one of the days that Orthodox Christians remember Saint Herman of Alaska, a Russian monk who lived among the Aleut people two hundred years ago. He settled on Spruce Island and cared deeply for the villagers there, sharing with them God's love and his very life. He taught them to boil salt out of the ocean water and preserve food for winter, and he defended them against corrupt traders who sought to exploit and abuse them and their land. He was greatly loved and respected by those who knew him. The Aleuts called him Apa, or Grandfather, and he did all he could to help, care for, and protect those in need.

Peregrine chose for us to paint the story of when a tsunami was coming and Father Herman placed an icon in the sand, praying to God to save the village. In faith he said the waves would come no further than where the icon stood, and they didn't.
Both paintings were inspired by the book North Star: Saint Herman of Alaska.

Our Playmobil advent calendar was transformed into a scene on Spruce Island today, complete with Father Herman, who was a borrowed shepherd from our nativity set, and a little paper church. It is said that the animals all loved Saint Herman and even bears would eat out of his hand!

Father Herman loved children, and would bake lots of biscuits and cookies to share with them. In his honor we made some cookies and all enjoyed them very much.

These cookies are inspired by Glutenfreefix's Snickerdoodles recipe. I made several changes, and these are gluten free and also vegan. They are delicious, and still very healthy. I'm really happy with the texture, which is just a little chewy in the middle but has a nice crunch on the outside. I added more spices than a typical snickerdoodle, and so these are more of a cross between a spice cookie and snicker- doodles. Enjoy!

Saint Herman Day Cookies
Gluten Free and Vegan

1 C Coconut Oil, room temperature
1/2 C Honey
1/4 C Coconut Sugar or other granulated sugar
1 t. Vanilla

1 1/2 C Almond Flour
2/3 C Coconut Flour
1/2 C Gluten Free Flour of your choice (I use a blend)
1 t Baking Soda
1/2 t Sea Salt
1/2 t each Cinnamon, Cloves, Ginger

Cinnamon-Sugar blend for rolling

Mix Coconut Oil, Honey, Sugar, and Vanilla in a mixer until fluffy. Add dry ingredients and mix until combined. If the dough is too soft to roll into balls let it rest in the refrigerator for a half hour or so. Form into 1-inch balls and roll in Cinnamon Sugar to coat. Place on a greased or lined baking sheet. Press each ball gently to flatten just a bit. Bake at 325° for 8-10 minutes. You'll know they're done when they've flattened, puffed, and just started to look a bit "cracked" on top. Take them out when they still feel pretty soft if you prefer a more chewy cookie. Cool for a few minutes on the pan before placing on a rack.
Makes approximately 3 dozen cookies.
Enjoy!

This post is part of The Nourishing Gourmet's Pennywise Platter and Food Renegade's Fight Back Friday.

Eugene

2011-12-13T15:34:00.000-08:00

Eugene is a regular at our church; he comes faithfully every Sunday. He's not, however, your typical church-goer. Eugene arrives on foot, and we often see him shuffling along the sidewalk, jacket slung over his head like a hat, bag over his shoulder, bare feet inside broken shoes. Eugene comes to wash up in the men's bathroom, and I've heard that the toilets have been plugged after he's filled them with the paper towels he's dried off with. Eugene sits in the entry way during church, slumped into a chair, kept company by moms and dads, flickering candles, golden icons, and noisy children. Eugene is not shy about getting in line for food when it's time, nor is he self conscious about heaping his plate high or going back for seconds or thirds. Sometimes we put leftovers in bags to send "home" with him.

Eugene has come to our parish for years. I'm glad he's there. We greet him cheerfully and sometimes get a word or two in response. He must have his camp somewhere nearby. I wonder where he lives. Does he have a warm sleeping bag, a tent to keep him dry? Does he camp under a bridge? Does he have a mother who prays for him, a family who remembers him? Is anyone's heart broken over what this man has become? Once he was someone's little boy. What is his story? The other day I watched him empty a quart sized bottle of hand sanitizer into his water bottle; presumably it was his next drink. I wonder how many of those bottles he's emptied. I wonder if that's how he keeps warm on these cold nights.

Is Eugene just another homeless man, or is he the very presence of Christ among us? Our faith teaches us to see the image of Jesus in everyone, and that what we do for "the least of these", whom Christ calls his brethren, we do to Jesus Himself. I was lying in bed Sunday night, sleepless, and thinking about Eugene. I remembered Tolstoy's story of the Shoemaker Martin who so desired to see Jesus. He was visited by different people, waiting for his Lord, but only met with common folks in need. He welcomed each, sharing and giving hospitality, but Jesus never came. In the end, Jesus reveals that it really was He who had come, and that Martin had indeed welcomed Him.

Someday I will stand before Jesus, and I will be judged on how I cared for - or didn't care for - the Eugenes of this world. It's a pretty thing to go to church on Sunday, to prepare my heart to worship Christ, to receive Him. But how often do I miss seeing Him, grubby and smelly, in the face of the stranger on the corner or the homeless man reaching into the bowl of fruit with his dirty hands? I don't know how to "help" Eugene. I can continue to smile at him, to greet him warmly, to treat him with love. I could pray for him more regularly, knowing he needs healing of mind and spirit.

I was at the store yesterday, something I'd rather avoid at this time of year. The friendly cashier asked me if I was "ready for Christmas". I know what she meant, but my thoughts turned to more than lists checked off and presents bought. Is my heart ready to receive Christ? Is there "room in the inn" for Him, room in my life? As I ponder the incarnation, God clothing himself in humanity, I think of Eugene and those like him. It is here I have a chance to love my Lord, by caring for the least of these, His brothers and sisters. May I be faithful to see the face of Christ and pour myself out for them.

Saint Nicholas Day

2011-12-08T14:45:00.000-08:00

Detail of St. Nicholas throwing a bag of gold, from Raphael's stocking.

Years ago, a friend lent me a book called Celebrating the Christian Year. One of the ideas that stuck with me was to open stockings on St. Nicholas Day instead of Christmas morning. The tradition, after all, comes from a story of the saint throwing gold coins into the window of a poor family. Legend has it that the coins landed in the stockings of the three daughters, who then had a dowry and could marry. Four years ago I finally got it together to open stockings on St. Nicholas Day and we've enjoyed it very much. We've tried to keep the stocking stuffers simple and have some items that relate to stories about St Nicholas. Here are a few photos of our St. Nicholas Day celebration!

Stories tell that Bishop Nicholas would hand out small, spiced breads to children, so we like to make gingerbread cookies shaped like him. It's been said that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, but I think that's true of all of us, and especially for children. I like to try to incorporate special foods into our celebrations of saints when we can. We got to stay after church and decorate our cookies together with a couple other families. Fun was had by all! Our cookie cutter came from the St. Nicholas Center.

Our Saint Nicholas books only come out at this time of year. Getting them out is like greeting an old friend. We have a couple about the life of St. Nicholas and a few others fun stories based on him. One of our favorites is The Baker's Dozen, about a Dutch baker in the American colonies and how he learns to be generous.

St. Nicholas Day morning! Happy kids excited to find what's in their stockings! One of our "traditions" is to give the kids a new pair of pajamas each year. I put them under their pillow the evening before so they can wear them to bed. I have usually bought them on after Christmas clearance the year before, but this year I made the bottoms of soft flannel and bought knit shirts to coordinate.

It's funny how everyone seems to have their hands in Pearl's stocking except for her! Lots of helpful siblings!

We were blessed to get to attend the Liturgy on St. Nicholas day morning. I love the joy on Father Jerry's face in this photo! "Wondrous is God in His saints!" I'm grateful for such examples of selfless service as Saint Nicholas!

The kids get in on filling the stockings too. I love that they want to share and give. They not only filled Erik's and mine, but tucked lots of little things in one another's stockings. I'm so glad they are learning the joy of giving! Celebrating Saint Nicholas early in the Christmas season is so appropriate as it helps us focus on giving.

One other thing we do in honor of St. Nicholas is to make muffins for the homeless in our town. My parents are involved in a lot of community outreach so it's easy for us to find a way to get our humble gift into the hands of those who need it. Our parish also hosts a giving project each December where we have the opportunity to give to those less fortunate in our community. This year we are sharing gifts with elderly residents in a memory care center, especially those who may not have anyone to remember them at this time of year.

Wishing you the joy of giving this season! And a happy (late) Saint Nicholas Day!

Christmas Giving

2011-12-01T06:00:00.000-08:00

Wee Felt Wisemen Ornaments, made with love.
Tutorial from Wee Folk Art.

There have been years where I've tried to get all my Christmas shopping done prior to Thanksgiving so I can more fully enter into the joy of the season. This year, I'd like to just skip the shopping as much as possible. Christmas, of course, isn't about the gifts, but we do enjoy both giving and receiving them. We are celebrating the greatest gift of all, and it seems an appropriate time to give. But I've been considering where these gifts come from, how they're produced, whether they're even really needed or wanted. We're trying to get rid of stuff, not collect more, so we're thinking more carefully about gift giving this year.

I come from a big family, and all of my siblings are now married with children of their own. Add in Erik's family, close friends, and our own children, and there's a whole lot of gift giving (and spending) potential. The last few years my family has agreed to give to a favorite charity instead of buying gifts for each other, and that's been great. (Our gift has gone to The Apparent Project in Haiti, a non-profit that employs people, allowing them to rise out of poverty.) I've loved doing this. My family has also, since I was a child, supported an orphanage in Mexico, and has given alternative"gifts" that help impoverished children. One year, Erik's dad and his wife bought a goat in our honor, and another year a flock of chicks for a needy family. (I believe those were given through World Vision. We've also given through Heifer International.) As much as I love to receive gifts, some of my favorites have been ones that have gone to someone else in my honor.

What about the kids? We will give them a few gifts, or course! (Can I just say how thankful I am that there hasn't been any real talk of "what I want for Christmas" yet!) Two of them are getting backpacks, something they need anyway. Peregrine and Poppy are each getting a new box of pencil crayons and I'm planning to make a pencil roll for each of them. I'm going to get Raphael the Busytown Airport book, and Pearl really is too small to care about presents, although she's getting a tiny backpack of her own. I will probably sew a dress or skirt for Poppy with fabric I already have. We will also give the older three a certificate they can cash in for a special outing with the parent of their choice; they love getting to do this. I bought a Groupon a while back for the local ice skating rink, so we will do that as well. We open stockings on St. Nicholas Day, which is December 6th, and our stocking items are usually somewhat practical, although still fun. (A pair of cute socks, a new pair of pajamas, a box of silly bandages, some chocolate coins, an orange, etc.) We'll spend lots of time as a family creating handmade gifts for each other, our family and our friends. (You can see some of our handmade gift ideas here.) Most importantly, we'll make a point, throughout this season of preparation, to look out for the needs of others and actively seek to help the poor. This may be as simple as keeping some granola bars in the van to hand to a homeless person or by eating more simply so we can share our extra grocery money with orphans in India or needy families in Haiti.

As we enter into this "most wonderful time of the year" we want to keep our focus on what is most important. It's not about amassing stuff, but about sharing love and celebrating the birth of Christ. We will enjoy both the giving and the receiving of gifts, but more than that we'll find joy in being together, loving one another, and sharing with others.

This post is part of a writing project of Families on the Move, a group of families who live a nomadic lifestyle or are preparing for long term travel. Read how other families celebrate Christmas "on the move".

A King's Life: Forget the Gifts, Give an Experience this Christmas
Pearce on Earth: A Different Kind of Christmas
Family Trek: What's for Christmas?
The Nomadic Family: Poverty for Christmas
New Life on the Road: Dear Mr. Santa Claus, What's for Christmas?
With 2 Kids in Tow: Dear Santa, for This Christmas we Wish...
Living Outside the Box: The Best Christmas Presents
Discover. Share. Inspire. Christmas is Coming- What do we Give on the Road?
Bohemian Travelers: Gift Giving While Living a Simpler Life
Little Aussie Travelers: Presence vs. Presents
Family Travel Bucket List: Feliz Navidad Without all the Stuff
Livin' on the Road- Susan: Christmas Traveling
Livin' on the Road- Peter: Christmas
A Minor Diversion: Reinventing Christmas
The Edventure Project: On Christmas: A Reflection on the Real Gifts

A Handmade Christmas

2011-11-30T15:39:00.000-08:00

A Christmas Fairy inspired by my friend Chelsea and Wee Felt Folk.
(This makes me excited to unpack the one Chelsea made me and hang her on my tree!)

As we've moved slowly toward a simpler lifestyle, I've been thinking about what to give for Christmas this year. I've always enjoyed being creative and making things, and although I seem to have less time than ever to do so, am not going to let that stop me! I will still order a few gifts online and shop at our local handmade Holiday Market, but I'm trying not to buy many commercially produced goods. Much of our "school" this coming month will consist of making gifts and getting ready for Christmas. I sat down earlier and wrote out a little list of things we've given in the past or are planning to make this year. Most of these are fairly simple and all can be made for less than you'd buy them. They have the bonus of being handmade with love, and though they may be small are always appreciated. The kids can also help with many of them, and to me, this is so much more rewarding and fun than taking them to the store to shop. Last year Peregrine spent weeks crafting presents for people, and I have no doubt this year will be the same. Several of these are items that friends or family members have made for us one year and I've turned around and made the next year. (You can't underestimate the gift of inspiration either!)

Spiced Nuts A nice alternative to all the sweets at this time of year.
Granola This is is a great recipe. I like to use dried cranberries instead of raisins.
Coffee Liqueur Similar to Kahlua. Using decent quality vodka and coffee makes a nicer finished product.
Limoncello When we visited Italy years ago a friend pulled a bottle of this out of the freezer after dinner. I made a batch last year. It's a bit labor intensive but great for lemon lovers.
Vanilla Extract This is super easy, just soak vanilla beans in vodka or rum. I've ordered vanilla beans from Arizona Vanilla Company. I keep a half gallon jar of vanilla brewing all the time. As I pour it out I just throw in some more beans and top it up. It's so yummy!
Rolled Beeswax Candles These are a fun, simple project that the kids can help with or do themselves. I buy beeswax sheets and wicking from GloryBee. You can make them very simple or decorate them a little. Who doesn't love candles?
Christmas Ornaments Endless options here, from simple ones the kids can make themselves to more detailed ones. I've enjoyed making some felt ornaments for the kids' stockings. A google search will turn up a wealth of ideas and tutorials for them.
Lotion Bars The woman who makes and sells Made On Hard Lotion is kind enough to share recipes and tips for making your own lotion bars. I love this stuff. She also sells a DIY kit that's a good deal. I've bought ingredients for making hard lotion from Mountain Rose Herbs.
Lip Balm So simple and inexpensive to make. Several good recipes here, as well as ingredients, lip balm tubes and containers.
Candle Lanterns My sister did these with the kids one year and they're so pretty. We made them with leaves for fall, and I think we'll do some more with snowflakes to brighten the dark days of winter.
Photo Gifts Framed pictures, photo calendars, and greeting cards made with pictures from our travels are all gifts we've enjoyed giving. Sites like Shutterfly and Mixbook offer great deals at this time of year. You could also get the kids' art printed on a shirt, tote bag, mug, etc.

Offering

2011-11-29T08:46:00.000-08:00

This morning I was reminiscing about Thanksgiving as we celebrated it on the prairies. In Canada the holiday is observed in early October, closer to the harvest time. Set along the front of our church would be long tables and people would place on them offerings of home canned goods and fresh produce from their gardens. To me this was the perfect picture of Autumn and of Thanksgiving; the deep reds of pickled beets and jellies, the pink blush of crabapples, dill pickled green beans in shiny jars, knobby potatoes and long carrots dug from the earth, and winter squash in all shapes and sizes. After the service these things would be boxed up and given to the poor among us. My family usually qualified.

I've been thinking about the beauty in this, not just visually, but how beautiful it was that people brought the literal fruits of their labor and made an offering of them. That right along with giving thanks to God was giving to others. I've often peered in to the large cardboard boxes that grace the foyer of many churches. Here the collections for the poor usually contain an abundance of things like ramen noodles and creamed corn. I'm thankful that people are giving, but I can't help but wonder- is that the best we can do? I'm as guilty as anyone. I've cleaned out my cupboards and dumped my extra cans of food in the box, the ones that that aren't organic or healthy or "good enough" for my family. I know that we are to give the first fruits, not the leftovers, but it seems that too often my gift is given out of obligation, not love, and that it's the dregs and not the cream.

It often seems that beauty and wonder are missing from the worship we offer God. Maybe this is part of why so many people are attracted to the Orthodox Church- they have maintained a beauty that touches the senses, but that also echoes with mystery and eternity. Maybe people are tired of sitting around tables in gymnasiums to worship the Creator. When we visited cathedrals in Europe I was amazed at the beauty and the extravagance that was evident there. I know that any building can just be a sepulcher housing dead mens' bones but I think there is something inherent in beauty that draws us to God. Something that inspires us to present whatever we have back to Him and believe that He will make it beautiful. Like the woman who spilled her tears over Jesus' feet and washed them with her hair. It was done in love and humility and to me it was one of the most beautiful acts of worship recorded in Scripture. She was forgiven much and she loved much.

So I think that thankfulness and giving are intertwined. When I realize that all I have is a gift I don't deserve it causes me to want to give to others the lavish love that's been poured out on me. I have so much to give thanks for and along with that I want to learn to give abundantly, joyfully, to take what I've been given in this life and offer it back to the Giver. I want to make something beautiful and delicious, not only for my family, but for the poor and homeless. I want to love and serve my husband in ways that bring him joy and peace and to make our home a beautiful sanctuary where people can find rest and and be drawn closer to Jesus. And I want whatever is on my table to be offered with love.

This is a repost from six years ago, but I was thinking again of those long tables laden with food and thought I'd reshare. I am challenged once again by reading these words; is my giving beautiful? And in the year after I wrote this, we too found our hearts at rest in the Orthodox Church.

Thankful: Family

2011-11-26T21:15:00.000-08:00

Mi familia... most of them anyway!
(This was over a year ago, but I think it's the most recent picture with both of my brothers.)
Look at that tiny little Pearl. She was only a couple weeks old here.

Today I'm especially thankful for my family. I say especially, because I'm always thankful for them, but sometimes I'm reminded of just how blessed I am to be part of such a wonderful and loving family. I grew up in a big family and have the happiest memories of my childhood. My brothers and sisters are still some of my best friends, and days like today where we sit around and eat and laugh and talk and play games are very special. I love that my family is always there for each other, whether someone needs a listening ear, or a pot of soup on a hard day, an encouraging word, prayer, or someone to help with the kids or pick something up at the store. My sisters are some of my closest friends. I love that we've all been at each others' births and shared so many special life moments. Up until the time I got married, and I was 26, when I was at home I'd still go crawl into bed with my parents and talk. I don't hesitate to call them, day or night, if I'm in need of their wisdom or comfort. I'm so blessed to have lived near them for as long as I have.

And if it weren't enough to have been born into such an amazing family, I have wonderful, loving in-laws as well. Both sets of Erik's parents have welcomed me into their lives and are wonderful grandparents to our children. We're so blessed by their love and support. I hear people talk about the difficulties they have with family and am so, so thankful for the relationships we all have with each other. I actually knew Erik's mom before I knew him, and she has been such a special part of my life, truly like a second mom to me. It was like icing on the cake that I got to marry Erik and have her as my mother-in-love.

As we raise our own little family, I'm grateful for the loving homes we both came from. It's not something I ever take for granted as I see so much pain and brokenness in people's family situations. I hope that our children will grow up to be the best of friends with one another. I love that they all get to spend time with cousins and grandparents. (This is something I missed out on as we lived in a different country than any of our relatives growing up and only got to see them every couple of years.) Thanks to technology, communication with those who are far away is a lot easier than it was when I was a kid. (But we still miss them!) I'm so thankful for family!

Thankful: Friendship

2011-11-25T22:16:00.000-08:00

Two of my best friends, Shelley and Paula, and most of our kids, the last time we were all together.
Which was way too long ago, I might add!

Today I'm thankful for good friends. The older I get the more I realize that true friendship really is a gift. I meet a lot of people, enjoy their company, and even have a lot in common with many, but it's more rare that there's that spark that grows deeper into friendship. I'm grateful for those people with whom I can be myself, knowing that I'm fully loved and accepted. For the ones that I may not see often, but when we do it's like no time has passed. For the ones whose houses I can walk into and rummage through the fridge, flop down on their couch and feel right at home. For the ones with whom I can share my struggles, my tears, and my joys. Here's to friendship!

Thankful: Thanksgiving Day

2011-11-24T22:23:00.000-08:00

Our Tree of Thanks

Thanksgiving was never meant to be for a single day~ "Robert Casper Lintner"

My Grams posted this quote on her Facebook wall earlier today, and it's such a good reminder. I'm glad we have this day set aside to give thanks. Gratitude it something I want to continue working to cultivate in my heart and in the hearts of my family. This month we created a Tree of Thanks as a way to help us remember that Thanksgiving isn't just a day; it's a way of life. I love how it started as just a bare brown trunk and grew into something beautiful as we added daily our little offerings of thanks. I love the leaves in all different shapes, sizes, and colors. I like the big scrawly writing of certain kids, the misspellings of others, and the fact that they each have their names up there several times - they are thankful for each other! Here are a few others:

Lego (This is also up there numerous times! My boys spend lots of time with their legos.)
Kasles! Hoklit Bunes! (Castles and Chocolate Bunnies.... Poppy is just starting to write on her own and her spelling needs a bit of interpretation!)
Reading stories
Making crafts
The WRLD and everything on it! (Poppy again.)
Cowboys
A fire in the fireplace on a cold day
Mama
The Ducks (That would be Peregrine)
Lego (Did we mention Lego?)
A good, secure job.
I'm happy for Pearl (Raphi loves his baby sister!)
Chili and cornbread
Good coffee (Erik)
The weekend, my family together
Unicorns. And Butterflies. And Cats. (Poppy. Definitely Poppy.)
Thanksgiving!
My beautiful wife. (My sweet husband.)
A warm and dry house
Sushi
Playing with Dad (Peregrine)
Sleep (that would be me)
A healthy family
Church
Family and friends
Books
Helpful big kids

It makes my heart happy just to sit and look at this, the giving of thanks for things big and small, things often unnoticed. The kids are already talking about doing a "Christmas Tree" and I think it's a great idea. Let's keep the gratitude flowing; it does us all good.

Happy Thanksgiving!

A Far Away Thanksgiving Memory

2011-11-24T13:06:00.000-08:00

Special days are often full, not only their present joy and celebration, but the memories of other such days. As we give thanks today my thoughts turn back to other Thanksgiving days; this one was most unusual. It was the year 2000 and seven friends and I were in Kathmandu, Nepal seeking to share our lives and the Good News of Jesus with western travelers. We were staying in a dark guesthouse with hard beds and cold rooms. Fall is Kathmandu is beautiful; the air is cool and clear and the majestic Himalayan foothills loom in the distance. For days before Thanksgiving we made our plans and invited people whom we had met and gotten to know; we ended up with twelve guests- twenty of us altogether. There were a few North Americans, and others from Israel, Denmark, France, And Nepal.

Our "kitchen" consisted of a small room on the ground floor of our guesthouse. What made it a kitchen were the two low tables, a kerosine burner (the scary kind), and a few containers of water. With two more borrowed stoves we were ready to cook! Here's what I wrote in my journal:

"We don't have a steamer basket so I inverted a bowl in the pot, rested a plate on that, and placed the chunks of pumpkin on it. I had to do two batches as only half would fit in the pot. I've only made pumpkin pie from canned pumpkin so this is a little different! It was really watery so I put it in some cheesecloth and hung it with clothesline overnight. Early this morning I mixed up the pie. Of course we don't have a pie plate so I poured it into a pot to bake and put a crumble topping instead of a crust. (No rolling pin and no clean surfaces to roll dough on.) I walked over to Shiva's Restaurant, where I often eat breakfast, and they allowed be to bake it in their toaster oven, since we don't have an oven either. While it baked I ate my usual breakfast of hash brown potatoes and hot lemon with honey. When I returned we gathered in one of our rooms for a time of giving thanks and praise to God. After that four of us headed downstairs to begin cooking. It was quite a scene, and although we were crowded it was a lot of fun. A Nepali friend also came to help with the cooking. Christyana made fried tofu and stuffing in the wok, John made steamed vegetables, Joy made fruit salad and mashed potatoes, and I made mushroom gravy and cucumber tomato salad. Dan and Mick, two travelers from the U.S. brought rolls and drinks. They even brought drinking glasses that they were able to borrow from a restaurant! Joy and Christyana transformed their room into the "dining room". They took the mattress off the bed exposing the wood platform and spread a tapestry on it. This was our table and as the guests arrived we all took our places on the floor around it. We filled the room and spilled out into the hallway. One of our fellow American guests suggested that we all share something we were thankful for and so we did. Most of the others had probably never celebrated Thanksgiving before and I was really glad to be able to share it with them. After the meal people hung out and talked and played music together and later we had pie. It was a beautiful day. I'm thankful for every good and perfect gift, for being alive and loved and able to love. For being here. For these friends who are like a family to me. For my family at home, and all my friends who love and pray for me."

I'm still thankful for all of those things and so many more- a wonderful husband and children I could never have imagined. For the life God has given me now and for all the memories of the other places I have been. They are part of today, part of who I am, and for that I am thankful.

(And Rachel and Chinua, John, Christyana, Joy, Rebekah, Christy- I love and miss you all!)

Happy Thanksgiving to each and all.
May your hearts overflow with a good theme as you give thanks!

Thankful: Peregrine

2011-11-23T21:50:00.000-08:00

Tonight I'm thankful for my oldest son, Peregrine. It's hard for me to believe he's nine. (Nine! As in, halfway to eighteen.) Peregrine is full of life; on a scale of one to ten, I think he lives between nine and twelve. He doesn't have any small feelings, and pours himself fully into whatever he's doing. (Or into wishing he wasn't doing the thing he has to be doing.) Life with him is never dull! I'm enjoying watching him learn and make connections about the world around him. I love that he can follow a recipe and likes to cook. He's a great reader, and is always surprising me with bits of knowledge he's picked up here and there. He loves to be in charge, and I just gave him the responsibility of "teaching" a preschool class to Raphael every morning. He's perfect for the job; he's been reading Raphael stories and then making crafts to go along with them! Raphael is loving it too, and it's keeping them occupied (constructively) so that I can clean the kitchen after breakfast. He's a big help around the house, actually lightening my load a fair bit. He's constantly creating things; if it's not with Legos, then it's with paper, tape, beads, wire, anything he can get his hands on. He loves to draw too, and lately has been making comic books. I'm so glad God gave me this intense, spirited boy!

Thankful: Poppy

2011-11-22T21:04:00.000-08:00

Today I'm thankful for my Poppy Joy girl. I was watching her today and marveling at how big she is. Wasn't she just my little blue eyed baby with the wispy hair? And now she dances and tumbles about the house with the best of them. Still a little girl in so many ways, she's emerging somehow, into a more thoughtful quiet little lady. I often wonder what's going on in her mind, and have to gently draw her out. She is over the moon in love with Pearl, and I'm glad for these two; sister love is so sweet. (I know, because I have two amazing sisters who are some of my best friends.) She also plays happily for hours with Raphael, and lately has taken to drawing comics along with Peregrine. She still loves to have long sleepy snuggles when she gets up in the morning; I like them too. Like a certain auntie of hers, she seems to change her clothes an awful lot. (And, she loves purple... ahem, Gloria!) I love this girlie of mine, and am so thankful she's part of our family.

Thankful: Raphael

2011-11-21T21:07:00.000-08:00

Boy meets Ink. Ink wins. I think Poppy introduced them.
And no, it wasn't washable Ink.

Tonight I'm thankful for my little man-cub Raphael. This boy, at 3 1/2, keeps me on my toes, keeps my running, and makes me smile often. He has always been busy busy, into everything, and wanting to figure out how things work. While he's incredibly independent, he also loves to be with me. If I'm cooking, cleaning, running to the store, he wants to be right there in the action. He sees no reason why he shouldn't start throwing in spices, chopping (with the big knife), or adding ingredients. Life with him is never dull, and if it is, he's probably into something. He was slow to talk, but he sure does pay attention to little things. He's usually my first one up in the morning and I'm glad that we have that time to snuggle, read, talk, cook together before the house is buzzing. Right now, he's loving building "shecial creations" with legos; these are usually honey factories and cupcake trains. He brings me lots of cupcakes in all different flavors. "Garilla", also known as vanilla, is my favorite. He's rough, wild, affectionate, and sweet. He often tells me "I love you, Mama. I love to be wif vou." I love to be "wif" him too, and am so grateful that God gave us this little guy.

Living Without

2011-11-21T06:00:00.000-08:00

A couple months ago a number of families wrote about why they've chosen to live with less. This month our group project was to write about things we've learned to live without. Even though I've been deliberately culling for a long time now, I still feel like we have so much. When I began to think about things we've learned to live with less of, or without, here are a few that came to mind:

Two Incomes. When we got married ten years ago, Erik's co-workers assured him we'd never survive on his income alone. We've proved them wrong. We've added four kids to our family since then, and we still live on his income. (Thankfully, it has increased in those years!) I've chosen to stay home with our children and am committed to giving them that gift. I'm happy to live without a career of my own. Erik's co-worker were right that we couldn't live on his income alone- if we had to have new cars, a boat, and a vacation home. We've chosen a different lifestyle.
New Cars We do have two vehicles, but they're both older models. They're both paid for. We will drive them until they no longer serve us well, or until we leave the country. (Hopefully leaving the country will come first!)
Credit Card Debt Neither of us even had a credit card when we got married; we'd both decided long before that we'd live within our means. We soon realized that having no credit meant we couldn't buy a house, so we both hold several cards now. We use them too, but pay off the balance every month. (And accumulate airline points in the process!)
Television For most of our married life, we've not had a TV. We watch the occasional movie via Netflix or on DVD, and don't feel we're missing out on a single thing by not owning a TV. I think that living without the constant barrage of advertising that comes with TV makes it a lot easier to be content with that we have.
As far as Stuff is concerned, we've gotten rid of a lot in the way of Books, Toys, and Clothing. We started our our marriage with two big bookcases, both full. As we added children's books over the years, we got rid of some of ours. This past summer I pared down to one bookshelf for the whole family. We've tried to invest in quality toys, and find the kids tend to play most with Legos, Playmobil, dress up things, and several other simple toys. I've pared down my wardrobe significantly. This is a slow process, but I'm working it down to fewer things that I really like. I still feel we have more of all these things than we really need, but we've learned to live with less than we had in the past. It's a process!

One of the benefits of intentionally paring down is that I've become a lot more careful about what I buy. I can honestly say that having less is freeing. It's easier to keep things picked up and organized. I still have a long way to go toward living as simply as I hope, but can also see that we've made a lot of progress. Living without and living with less frees up time, energy, and resources for relationships and experiences.

Read what other families are living without here:

Windwalker Duo- Living Better With Less
The Nomadic Family- Living Without
Tripping Mom- Less Stuff, More Life
New Life on the Road- The Simple Lifestyle
Living Outside the Box- Living Without
A King's Life- Living With Less and Spoiling Ourselves
Globetrotting Mama- Living Without the Stuff
With 2 Kids in Tow- After Ten Months of Living With Less
Family on Bikes- Living With Less- What Can You Ditch?
Raising Miro- Living Without the Norm
A Minor Diversion- What we've Learnt to Live Without
Livin' on the Road- Living Without
Bohemian Travelers- Collecting Experiences

Thankful: Pearl

2011-11-20T21:47:00.000-08:00

Tonight I'm especially thankful for my baby Pearl. She's a year and a half now, so not really such a little baby, but my baby still. She's been such a happy little one, full of smiles and happiness. She's petite and taking her jolly time to do things, but I don't mind one bit. I think she's getting very close to walking... finally! (I'l miss the way she scoots around on her bottom.) I love her sweet little voice and hearing her try out new words. I think she's going to have a fun sense of humor too. I'm so very thankful that God added this little one to our family. She brings so much sweetness to my days. (And nights.... she's been my worst sleeper, but I know I'll look back with joy on all our midnight snuggles.)

Thankful: Raspberries and Roses

2011-11-19T21:26:00.000-08:00

It's been a lovely fall here in Oregon; mild, sunny, trees ablaze with color. We've only woken to the glitter of frost a few mornings, and haven't had a lot of rain yet. But cooler weather is finally settling in, and it's supposed to dip below freezing tonight. As days grow shorter and skies darken, I look forward with a bit of dread to the upcoming months of gray, drizzly skies.

So today, I'm thankful for these summer gifts that have hung on this long. Here we are, more than halfway through November, and still there are roses blooming in my yard. They seem to be more fragrant than in summer, but perhaps I just notice it more because it's unexpected. And raspberries! Poppy brought me a handful of them the other day; ripe, sweet berries. Yesterday Raphael picked some at my parents' house; he arrived home with face shining, holding up his little container and saying "I picked these for 'vou'". And today I was able to gather a small bowl to share with Erik and Pearl. I cut the last of the rosebuds and will enjoy watching them open and inhaling their sweet scent. I'm thankful for these little unexpected gifts, promises that the dark days will pass and once again there will be abundant sunshine, bouquets of fresh flowers, and bowls of sweet fruit.

Thankful: Trash Day

2011-11-18T15:05:00.000-08:00

As I was lying in bed this morning listening to the garbage truck rumble into our cul-de-sac, I thought back to this post I wrote nearly six years ago. I'm reposting, since it fits right into my month of thanks.

       Friday is trash day. The trucks come rolling into our neighborhood at 6:45AM. A certain small boy thinks this is very exciting and comes bounding out of his room way too early. I usually lie in bed groaning at the prospect of spending an entire day with a way-too-tired boy on account of him wanting to see the garbage trucks. It's not a good way for me to start the day.

        A few hours after the trash was picked up this morning I got to reminiscing about my time spent in India and Nepal. In light of my grumblings about the trash trucks coming so early, I've compiled a list of things to be thankful for. They're simple things that in this country I usually take for granted. Hopefully next time I start to let my complaining heart take over, I can read this over and find something to be thankful for instead.

        1. Trash Service This seems a logical place to start, since that's what got me whining first thing this morning. It's pretty amazing to have a truck that comes by on a regular basis and hauls my trash away. In India we just had to dump it out by the street, where passing cows, goats, pigs, and people could rummage through it and scatter it about. I think there was some sort of truck that might come pick it up once in a while, but we never knew when. I always felt guilty just throwing my trash on the street.

        2. Electricity Can you imagine living even a day in your home without power? Maybe if you knew it was going to happen it could be sort of fun for a while, but the novelty would wear off pretty quickly. In India and Nepal, the power would come and go without warning. Sometimes I thought I had it figured out, like it's off from nine to one every day, but then it would change, usually in the middle of writing a nice long email (that would then be lost) or cooking dinner. Then I would get to continue cooking over my very scary kerosine stove by the flickering of candles. And not nicely scented clean burning ones, but ones that sent up toxic black smoke that almost made me choke.

        3. Heat This one goes along with electricity for most of us, but I think it deserves its own category. My house is so nice and comfy, even if it's freezing outside. If I get too cold I can turn up the heat. I remember huddling in my sleeping bag in Nepal, burning a candle in vain hope that it might warm up the room a bit. Brrrrr....

        4. Water There's plenty of fodder for thankfulness here. First off, I can turn on my tap anytime I want and have water that's safe to drink. No boiling, cooling, or pumping. No having to think about (or try not to think about) the fact that this same water was just pumped out of the river where people bathe, wash clothes and dishes and water buffalo, and throw the dead bodies. Even if it's been boiled and filtered, it's still just kind of gross. Secondly, within seconds the water that comes out of my tap will be hot if I want it to be. (I must admit that I often get impatient in those seconds.) In some places we had hot water if the sun had been out and warmed the solar tanks on the rooftops. Other places there was no hot water unless you heated it yourself. Bathing was a real ordeal. Which brings me to my next point....

        5. Bathrooms It's easy for me to feel a bit sorry for myself because we only have a shower and not a tub. But really I have nothing to complain about. Our bathroom in Varanasi, India was a dark room with concrete walls and floor. At one end of the room there was a hole in the floor where one might wish for a toilet. About halfway up one wall was a spigot for (cold) water. I will never complain about not having a bathtub again.

        6. Medical Care I took Alethea to the doctor this morning for her check-up. Sometimes I get annoyed at having to wait more than a few minutes to be called in for my appointment. When I was in Nepal I was extremely sick and taken to a hospital. The waiting room was full- and I mean full in the Asian sense of the word, like people in every available inch of the room. Who knows what one might contract waiting in there for hours. It's pretty amazing that we can get in to see a doctor and have good medical care when we need it.

        7. Refrigeration I have one of those side-by-side fridges and still I find myself wishing I had a bigger one sometimes. I need to remember what it was like to have no refrigerator. I had to shop one day at a time, and I never quite knew what to do with leftovers. Thankfully my friend Leilah would usually come in sometime around 2 AM and finish off whatever was left in the pot. I'd then see her hunched over in her sleeping bag reading her Bible by (smoky) candlelight.

        I could go on, but that pretty much covers the basic things that it's so easy to take for granted, like they're my inalienable rights or something. While there's a simplicity that I miss about living in India, one has to work pretty hard to accomplish anything there. I have so much to be thankful for. I'm going to try hard to remember this when I'm lying in bed next Friday morning and those garbage trucks come around.

Thankful: Choice

2011-11-17T21:06:00.000-08:00

Today I'm thankful for the freedom of choice. While I often feel overwhelmed by the abundance of choices I face on a regular basis, I am glad to have them. (Seriously, I've nearly had a breakdown trying to pick out dental floss. Way too many options!) I believe God gave us great dignity by bestowing free will upon us, and I try to honor Him with the choices I make. Today I'm grateful to have the freedom to choose:

To educate my children at home.
To practice our faith and worship communally without fear of persecution.
To buy healthy and nourishing foods.
To use alternative health practitioners.
To learn about and research anything that interests me.
To travel virtually anywhere we'd like to... time and resources being the limit here!

It's funny, as I look over this list, I realize that several of these are areas where I see more government involvement than I'd like. Some of these choices, from homeschooling to buying raw milk, are being challenged on various levels and I often feel up-in-arms over it. But on the other hand, our country is still a land of much choice, and I realize we have more freedoms than people in most times and places. For that, I'm very, very thankful.

Thankful: November 16

2011-11-16T21:06:00.000-08:00

This picture has nothing to do with my post. It was just a neat building we saw in Montova, Italy, many years ago.
Which, incidentally, I'm thankful for. So there. It's relevant after all.

Today I'm thankful for many things:

The smell of granola baking.
Open gym play time for the kids, visiting time for the mamas.
Having Erik home earlier in the afternoon.
Getting closer to putting the house on the market, slowly, slowly.
Lentil soup - simple, hearty, filling.
Pearl's sweet voice.
A good day with a child who often is very challenging.
My favorite candles burning on the mantle - orange, clove, and cinnamon.
Quince simmered in apple cider with cloves, reminiscent of canned crabapples, memories of a happy childhood.
Being close enough to my mom and dad that the kids get to see them often.
Brothers playing happily together for a long time.
Getting to see both of my sisters.
A warm, dry home on a drizzly gray day.

My sister Alyssa wrote today about her gratitude for her own warm and dry home. She expressed very well what a great gift this is. I encourage you to go read it here.

For what are you thankful for today?

Thankful: Advent

2011-11-15T21:02:00.000-08:00

Today I'm thankful to be setting out on a journey, one that will take 40 days and lead to us to the Nativity of Christ. In the Orthodox Church, we begin our advent season today, November 15th. Everywhere we go we're inundated with advertising, busyness, food, stuff, and then more food and more stuff. We're told that joy and peace can be bought with credit and that happiness comes in pretty packages. Meanwhile, the Church quietly calls us away from these distractions and toward Christ. It is a season of preparation, and yes, we will buy some stuff, we'll continue to eat, and we'll inevitably be busier than we'd like. But we will also intentionally turn ourselves away from gluttony through eating simpler meals, fewer treats, less mindless eating. We will try to "unplug" more often so we can be more connected to one another. We will actively seek to remember that it's more blessed to give than to receive by taking part in various giving projects as a family, of trying to be more aware of others needs than our desires. We will focus on the meaning of this time by reading together from the Old Testament, reading the old, old story that started in Eden and led to the manger. We will hang up a corresponding ornament on our Jesse Tree each evening as we learn about those who came before and make up the lineage of our Saviour. We will move Mary along on our starparth, slowly filling the sky with stars as she nears the cave.

Last night we sat together, in the glow of candle light, and talked about what we would do if we learned that in 40 days we'd be visited by a King. How would our lives change as we prepared for his coming? If he were to visit our home, if he were to stay with us, wouldn't we declutter and clean and decorate and save the best for when he arrived? And wouldn't he want to see that in all our preparations, we didn't forget the least of these, his very brethren, but shared with them from our abundance? And wouldn't we want to practice showing love to each other, because we know that is what pleases Him best?

A King is coming, and so we make ready. We will attempt to prepare our hearts as well as our home. And when He comes? We will feast and celebrate! But now is the time for preparation, and I'm grateful for that. When Christmas morning comes, and the gifts have been opened, we'll just be getting started. (We keep the 12 days of Christmas, after all!) I'm thankful to be setting out on this journey today, one that leads to the Prince of Peace!

Read how other families keep the season of advent here.

Thankful: November 14

2011-11-14T22:11:00.000-08:00

As the days grow darker I'm thankful for the warmth and brightness of light, both spiritually and physically. Last night we read about St. Martin of Tours and took an evening walk with the lanterns the kids had made. They were so beautiful, the warm glow illuminating the darkness and reflecting off happy little faces. We talked of letting the light of Christ shine through us, about loving one another and caring for the poor, as St. Martin taught us by his example, and of seeing Christ in everyone we meet.

"O Joyful Light of the holy glory of the immortal, heavenly, holy blessed Father, O Jesus Christ. Having come to the setting of the sun, having beheld the evening light, we hymn the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, God."

(Ancient Christian hymn sung in the evening service of the Orthodox Church.)

"The Light of Christ illumines all!"

(From the Liturgy of the Pre-sanctified Gifts)

"The early Christian ritual of carrying a lamp into the evening service led to the present-day order of Vespers with its entry and the singing of the ancient hymn, O Jesus Christ, the Joyful Light…, which expresses the Christian teaching of spiritual light that illumines man, of Christ the Source of the grace-bestowing light."

(Quote taken from here.)

"And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it"
(John 1:5)

Thankful: November 13

2011-11-13T15:07:00.000-08:00

Today I'm thankful for our parish and our church family. Our journey toward the Orthodox Christian Church began nearly seven years ago and I'm so very grateful to be where we are. I love the rhythm of the liturgical year and for seasons that shape the calendar for us. I love the history and the sense of connectedness I have with the body of Christ through the ages. I love worshipping in a place of beauty, a place designed to be an extension of heaven. I appreciate that the liturgy engages all of our senses; we see, we smell, we touch and taste and hear. We worship with our bodies, not only our hearts. I love that the church is a place of healing of both soul and body, that we are called to lay aside our earthly cares at the same time that we are being equipped to live on this earth.

On a more local level, I'm so thankful for the people that make up our parish. Over the years they've become so dear to me. I love that our children are welcomed to be with us, that we very often receive encouragement about them. I can't count how many times someone has said to me "I love hearing your kids in church. I'm so glad they're here!" That means a lot to a mama of many young, active children! I give thanks for this group of people, this body, as we grow together, struggle together, serve together, and love one another.

Thanksgiving: November 12

2011-11-12T20:12:00.000-08:00

Today I'm thankful for a warm house on a cold day, a cozy fire, a pot of simmering chili, cornbread with cinnamon honey butter melting into it, my rocking chair, the quiet after kids are tucked into bed, a lunch date with Erik, waffles with fresh warm applesauce, and a comfy bed waiting for me.

Here is a cornbread recipe passed down from Fannie Farmer's cookbook to my Grandma, to my Mom, and then on to her children. This version contains less sugar than called for by Fannie (and I would use honey or even less sugar). This is the cornbread I grew up eating, and it's super yummy with some cinnamon honey butter on top!

Cornbread

Blend:

1/4 C Melted Butter

2 Eggs

2 C Milk

1/2 C Sugar

Stir together and add to wet ingredients:

2 C Flour

1 1/2 C Cornmeal

1 T Baking Powder

1 t Salt

Bake 20 minutes in a greased 9" x 13" pan at 425.

Thankful: November 11

2011-11-11T20:44:00.000-08:00

Today I'm thankful for Erik. Well, I'm thankful for him every day, but on this day I'm writing a little about it. We've known each other for fifteen years and been married for just about ten. In that time he's gone from being a slightly intriging fellow to being my husband and closest friend. Here are just a few of the many things I love about this man:

He is hard working and loyal, steady and strong.
He doesn't complain, even though his job challenges him in many not-so-pleasant ways.
He is always trying to find better ways of doing things.
He has amazing blue eyes.
He's humble.
He makes me chai.
He loves our family.
He cleans the kitchen. Often.
He loves my cooking.
He brought home Coconut Bliss tonight. (Bonus points for that!)
He's very generous.
He cares deeply for his parents.
He has a tender heart.
He understands the importance of good chocolate.
He gets up with the kids on weekends so I can sleep in.

I waited what seemed like a long time for the right man to come along, and I'm so glad I did. We've grown and changed a lot in the last ten years, and I look forward to many more.

Thankful: November 10

2011-11-10T21:05:00.000-08:00

Today I'm thankful for being able to spend one-on-one time with my kids. It's something we've been challenged to do in the last few months, to try to carve out special times with each child on a regular basis. Ideally it's a time where one of us can give one of them undivided attention doing something they enjoy. I'm aiming for ten minutes each day for each child, but it doesn't always happen. I obviously have to fit this into real life, so sometimes special time is just getting to go to the grocery store with mama, or choosing a book while I nurse the baby. Other times it's building legos together or playing stuffed animals. Pulling one child out of the wild rumpus of life at our house gives them an opportunity to shine, to absorb lots of attention, to be reminded that they're special to us.

I didn't plan it, but Raphael wanted to come to the grocery store with me this afternoon. My first internal reaction was "no, I can be so much faster alone" but of course I wanted to be with the boy who wanted to be with me. I was so glad he came along, as we had a really sweet time together. We stopped at the post office and he carried a package for me. I loved hearing his voice, his thoughts, with no interruptions from other kids. He asked me if at night time the post office workers went home. I assured him that they did, but he was puzzled because he didn't see a gate where they could get out from behind the counter! At the grocery store he wanted to ride in one of the "car" shopping carts, which I normally don't do because they're so hard to push. But today I let him, and he loved driving around the store. At one point he said to me "Mama, I love to be with you". It's so worth it to take the time to really be with our little ones, ones that are growing so quickly.

The one on one "special time" is bearing good fruit, closer, deeper relationships, and wonderful memories for both the kids and for us. Tonight, we drove under a bridge that is all lit up with red light. The kids always make a wish as we go under it, and this evening was no exception. Raphael, who is a bit new to the concept of wishes, was excitedly telling us all about how he had his wish. When I asked him what he wished for he said "Mama". That was enough to melt my heart. I think your wish really has come true, my dear boy.

Thankful: November 9

2011-11-09T21:02:00.000-08:00

Image from imagekind.com and wordblessings.com.

I have to admit I've struggled with being thankful today. It's been one of those days where I've been on the verge of tears more than once and all too often have given in to feelings of frustration, discouragement, and resentment. It was a day where one thing after another seemed to go all wrong, or at least didn't work out the way I hoped it would. Circumstances beyond my control threw me off balance, and I wish I could say I recovered gracefully.

I start most days with a beautiful prayer; often I pray these words as I awake and before I pull myself out of bed. They are easy to pray and harder to live:

O Lord, grant me to greet the coming day in peace. Help me in all things to rely upon Your holy will. In every hour of the day reveal Your will to me. Bless my dealings with all who surround me. Teach me to treat all that comes to me throughout the day with peace of soul, and with the firm conviction that Your will governs all. In all my deeds and words guide my thoughts and feelings. In unforseen events let me not forget that all are sent by You. Teach me to act firmly and wisely, without embittering or embarrassing others. Give me strength to bear the fatigue of this coming day with all that it will bring. Direct my will, teach me to pray, and You, Yourself pray in me. Amen. (St. Philaret of Moscow)

Today I failed to treat all that came to me with peace of soul. Instead I got frustrated and annoyed and emotional. I often remind a child who's had a difficult day that God's mercies are new every morning, that every day is fresh and clean with none of yesterday's mistakes. As I was saying good night, Peregrine reminded me of this. "Mom, God's mercies are new every morning, even every minute!" So as this challenging day comes to a close I breathe in gratitude for new mercies, for fresh starts, for grace. I wonder how many little gifts I missed today because I was focused on myself and my petty troubles. Tomorrow is a new day, and a new opportunity to walk with eyes and heart open.

Thankful: November 8

2011-11-08T15:25:00.000-08:00

The waffle in Autumn, topped with butternut pudding, whipped cream, maple syrup and toasted pecans.

Today I'm thankful for waffles. Shortly after Erik and I got married, we started making waffles for breakfast on Saturday mornings. We talked about how when we had kids it would be a fun tradition, a special breakfast to celebrate Daddy being home with us. The years passed, and we traded our little waffle maker for one that makes four Belgian waffles with big pockets to hold lots of yummy toppings. Our recipe has morphed over the years as well. What began as a standard recipe from my Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook eventually became gluten free. As I began to learn about the importance of whole grains and neutralizing phytic acid I experimented more until we came up with this incarnation, which we've been happy with for a couple of years now. It uses whole, uncooked brown rice that is ground up in the blender and soaked overnight. While the recipe may appear to have a lot of steps these really go together easily. (Erik even makes them himself!)

Beyond waffles, I'm thankful for family gathered around our table enjoying wholesome and delicious food. I'm grateful for the rhythms that make up a good life; everyone knows that on Saturday mornings mama sleeps in and daddy hangs out with the kids and makes coffee. We eat waffles, and bacon and eggs, and listen to hokey old cowboys crooning on the Country Classics show. In the summer we top them with lemon curd and fresh berries; in the fall it's some sort of pumpkin spread. We save Grandma's canned peaches for gray winter mornings when we need a little taste of summer. There's often whipped cream, and always real butter and maple syrup and jam. Yes, it's decadent, but hey, Saturdays only come once a week, right? If you're ever in the neighborhood, come and join us, won't you? We have plenty of waffles to share.

Saturday Morning Waffles

1 3/4 C Brown Rice

2 C Buttermilk, Sour Milk, or Kefir

2 Eggs, Separated

1/2 t Baking Soda

1/4 t Salt

3 T Melted Butter or Coconut Oil

1 t Vanilla

In order to neutralize the phytic acid do the first step the night before you want to eat these!

In a blender combine whole, uncooked rice and buttermilk, sour milk or kefir. Blend on high speed until the rice is finely ground. If you find the mixture is too thick, you can add in the melted butter or oil and vanilla. Soak in blender overnight.
The next morning, separate eggs. Place the whites in a large, clean mixing bowl and put the yolks in the blender with the rice/milk mixture. If you haven't previously added the oil or butter and vanilla, do so now. Blend until combined.
Plug in your waffle maker so it will be nice and hot!
Add salt to egg whites and beat until stiff.
With blender on low to medium, add the baking soda to the rice mixture. As it mixes you will see the batter start to rise. Turn off the blender. Gently pour batter into the egg whites and fold in. (I do this with the whisk attachment of my mixer.)
Follow instructions for your waffle maker. (We spray oil on ours, and set our timer for 4 1/2 minutes, but you'll need to figure out what works for you!
Enjoy!

This post is part of The Nourishing Gourmet's Pennywise Platter, Food Renegade's Fight Back Friday, and Real Food Forager's Fat Tuesday.

Thankful: November 7

2011-11-07T15:13:00.000-08:00

A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral. ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry,Flight to Arras, 1942

Today I'm thankful for imagination. I love to see how a spark of an idea in the mind of a child can quickly transform a morning. How a couple of kids playing together are suddenly wearing backpacks and needing trail mix because they're setting off on some grand adventure known only to them. How these little minds envision what they need and set about to create it. How pieces of silk cloth in various colors can turn any outfit into something much more than the sum of its parts. Need a hat, a skirt, a turban, a cape? How about a blanket or a belt? Look no further. I love how these children can completely immerse themselves in the world of imagination and be transported into far away places and stories. I wonder why we lose this as adults, this wonderful God-given ability to see something in the mind's eye and go about making it a reality. Here's to imagination!

Thankful: November 6

2011-11-06T14:38:00.000-08:00

Today I am thankful for books.
Books on shelves,
Books in baskets,
Books on tables.
(And even books all over the floor.)
Books in hands, little and big.
Books to look at, laugh at, learn from.
Books borrowed, books we own.
Books that take you to another time, another place,
That bring the world to you.
Old books with soft, worn pages,
New books, crisp and clean.
Books revisited each season, like old friends.
Board books, picture books, chapter books.
Little voices asking for just one more book.

Thankful: November 4

2011-11-04T06:00:00.000-07:00

Today I'm thankful for growth. Not the kind marked by candles on a cake or measured by feet and inches, although we have our fair share of that going on around here. I'm glad today for the small encouragements I so need in this challenging journey called parenting. We celebrated Peregrine's ninth birthday this week, and there were small things I noticed, things that spoke to me of a maturing that is taking place. (And really, there are days that I'm not so sure it's happening at all!) He thanked everyone for coming to his party. He was truly excited about each of his few gifts, beaming with gratitude for things thoughtfully chosen by people who love him. He said thank you without being prompted or reminded. He ran over and hugged me, face glowing, after opening a gift from Erik and me.

My favorite part of a birthday party is the moment we sing; I've always loved watching their face in the glow of candlelight. Part of growing up is learning the sometimes painful lesson that it's not all about you. And then, for one magical moment, it kind of is all about you but in the best way, with so much love and happiness and thanksgiving for this life, all mixed up with memories and hopes and dreams.

Erik took this picture, and I love it. It captures Peregrine so well. Poppy wanted to make him a mask for his birthday, and he was thrilled with her gift. He added the silk cape and became a superhero. I love the joy and serenity on his face, absorbing the love that was so present in that moment. I love the crooked candles that Raphael put in the cake. And I love the boy who is growing, in more ways than up.

Thankful: November 3

2011-11-03T15:53:00.000-07:00

Today I'm thankful to look around my home and see beauty. Yes, there are clothes piled up waiting to be folded, and dishes that need to be washed. There are fingerprints and muddy handprints on windows and dirt on the floor. Those things have their own beauty, because they speak of the family who calls this place home. But the beauty I'm talking of is the handmade crafty kind, the kind that celebrates the season we're enjoying right now.

Peregrine and I crafted this little lantern bunting out of wool felt. (Tutorial here.)

Fall leaves and tissue paper Mod-Podged onto glass jars make lovely seasonal lanterns.

And of course my heart swells with thankfulness for the little crafters among us!

And the not-so-little crafty boy!

Thankful: November 2

2011-11-02T17:22:00.000-07:00

Why is it so hard to hold onto gratitude, to give thanks for the multitude of gifts that each moment contains? How easily I forget to open my eyes, to look beyond the dirty diapers, muddy floors, squabbling siblings, and interrupted sleep to see the sweetness in these days. I know that one of the keys to the joy I so long for is to cultivate thankfulness, to recognize the grace that is abundant in each moment. Like most habits, it's one that takes discipline and work. Grumbling and becoming irritated seem to come so naturally to me. I have a long way to go, but I want my heart to be overflowing with gratitude, leaving no room for complaint.

After reading Ann Voskamp's One Thousand Gifts last winter, I began jotting down in a notebook things I'm thankful for. My goal was to try to write down ten things a day, but I admit I've gone through long weeks where I don't even open my little book. I've found the practice of writing them down really is helpful. I read somewhere that the act of writing heightens awareness; you pay attention to little details that might otherwise go unnoticed. This is true whether you're writing a journal or a story, and it's the same for thankfulness. When I'm in the habit of giving thanks- and recording it- I find more and more things for which to be thankful.

My friend Rae who lives in India, my sister Alyssa, and another friend, Lisa, have been sharing things they're thankful for and I thought it would be fun to join in. I don't have any aspirations toward posting something every day, but will try to share from time to time. Here are a few I've jotted down in my gratitude journal in the last few days:

My mom coming over and making chicken soup for us while I'm not feeling well.
The way Pearl blows kisses, little hand flapping at her mouth, so pleased.
Misty mornings, sunny afternoons.
Hot tea with lemon and honey, soothing and delicious.
Reading Peregrine's birthday letter aloud to him, seeing his face beam.
Raphael's "hundred kisses" at night and how he says "I'll love you in the morning!"
Onesies.
Root Vegetables, their earthy sweetness and jeweled colors.
Pignoli cookies, fresh from Philadephia.
Spider webs shimmering in the cold sun.
Late night snuggle and talk with Poppy.

How do you cultivate thankfulness in your life? How do you help your children develop thankful hearts?

Nine (A Birthday Letter to Peregrine)

2011-11-01T16:30:00.000-07:00

To my dear Peregrine boy,

It was on a day very much like this one that we first met you nine years ago. From my hospital window I couldn't know how cold it was and could easily have been fooled by the brilliant sunshine illuminating trees ablaze with reds and golds. Inside I was warm and snug, focused only on the newborn boy in my arms. I could see the hustle of life outside and was incredulous that the world didn't stop with me to wonder at the miracle of new life. Didn't they know that today, a child had been born?

Newborn Peregrine, our little "Pip".

That is the nature of life; miracles do happen, and often, but we're too busy to notice. You, Peregrine, have helped me to stop and breathe in the wonder of the moment. You, for whom every feeling is big and intense, have helped me to learn to rejoice in the little things. I wonder what it is like to be you sometimes, to be so full, all the time, of big feelings, of strong desires, of stories and songs and imaginings. I hope that you never lose the ability to be completely filled with wonder at something that too often goes unnoticed.

You are always creating something or another. You have, from the time you were small, been able to take whatever is around you and make it more somehow. You can take a simple meal and turn it into King Arthur's court, or Almanzo's dining room. A few articles of clothing and a hat can somehow morph into a whole story lit by the fires of your imagination. You take stacks of paper and turn them into comic books full of heroes and villains and inventions that I have a hard time keeping track of. You are learning the art of cooking, of taking food and making it into so much more than the sum of its parts. I can't seem to keep a roll of tape around as you transform paper into creations of all kinds. You know, I'm not one bit surprised that you are creative; you are, after all, made in the very image and likeness of The Creator. Never lose that spark.

You've been very excited to turn nine, waiting and planning and counting the days. This morning, you sat on my lap and I put my arms around you and was surprised by how big you are. There's the makings of a man in there. I'm glad we have a few more years before we see him fully emerge, because boyhood is such a great time. Speaking of the coming years, you are so excited about our plans to travel. I admire the way you've been not only willing, but excited, to get rid of things and to live a simpler life. You seem to waver a bit between packrat and minimalist, but you really do seem happiest with less. I'm excited to see what this next year holds for us!

Nine!

I love you so much Peregrine. I know I don't always show it like I should, like I want to, and I'm humbled with how readily you forgive me. I'm so glad that God gave you to me and Daddy and made us a family on that cold and lovely fall day. Here's to many more seasons together!

Love,
Mama

Nine Years Ago

2011-10-29T03:58:00.000-07:00

Erik and I shortly before his diagnosis.

This is a repost from a few years ago, but as I've been thinking these same thoughts I thought I'd share it again. I'm so grateful for every day with my husband and family!

As October passes by my thoughts always turn to remembrance and thanksgiving for the life of my family. Nine years ago at this time I was very, very pregnant with Peregrine. He was, in fact, due around the 20th although he wasn't born until November 1st. On Monday, the 14th of October, Erik visited our family doctor because he was concerned about the hard swelling in one of his testicles. Our doctor mentioned a few possibilities, one of them being cancer*, and referred him to a urologist. I called to schedule an appointment and was told they couldn't see him for nearly two months. I tried another doctor who could get him in sooner; I honestly didn't think it could be cancer or I would have pushed a lot harder! But God knows, and on Wednesday of that week the second doctor's office called and said there was a cancellation and he could see Erik on Thursday.

Thursday came, and Erik went to his appointment. He came home and told me the urologist was confident it was cancerous and wanted to remove the testicle the next day! To this day I wish I'd have gone to that appointment with him; again, I really didn't think it was anything serious or I would have been there. No one should be alone when they're given that kind of news. We called our friends and family; I don't believe we'd even mentioned it to them prior to this. (This had all happened in a matter of four days!) Our close family came over that evening to pray with us for the surgery, which was scheduled for Friday afternoon.

I don't remember exactly how I reacted to all of this; it was so shocking, such a short time to absorb such news, but I do remember God's peace and comfort. Even in peace though, there are a lot of questions, and we were certainly asking them! Did this doctor know what he was doing, removing a testicle without doing any biopsies? What if the cancer had spread to the other side, or elsewhere in Erik's body? I was very thankful we'd gotten pregnant right away after getting married; what if we weren't able to have any more children? What if I went into labor tomorrow? What if Erik died, leaving behind a young wife and child? All of these thoughts and more swirled through our minds, but truly, God gave us great peace in the midst of this sudden storm. My Dad mentioned the other day that he wished every couple could have the first two years of their marriage free from any big trials, but it just isn't that way, is it? We'd been married only nine months, and were facing something I'd never even imagined going through!

Erik went to work the next morning and worked until noon. I guess he figured he'd be off the next few weeks and with a new baby coming should work as much as he could. We drove to the hospital and our parents met us there. Again, we all prayed together, and then Erik was admitted and prepped for surgery. His sense of humor always intact, he'd taken a Sharpie and drawn an arrow pointing to the side where they were going to operate! The hours went by and I sat surrounded by our loving and wonderful families. We visited and prayed and quilted and joked about me going into labor right then- hey, I was already in the hospital!

Finally someone came out and told us that the surgery had gone well and Erik was in recovery. At last we were able to see him and a while later he was discharged from the hospital. We drove back to our cozy little duplex, thankful that everything had gone well and now praying our baby would stay put for a while so Erik could heal before having care for me and a newborn! We prayed for at least a few days, but God gave us two whole weeks before Peregrine was born! The time was good for both of us; Erik needed to rest and heal, and it was good for me to spend the last weeks of my pregnancy relaxing with my husband and not frantically trying to do a lot of things! Many of his coworkers donated their paid time off to him so he didn't have to take any time off without pay.

About a week after his surgery we met with his doctor and learned the results of the biopsy; it was indeed cancerous. Blood tests, CT scans, and x-rays revealed that it hadn't spread anywhere else in his body, but it was still recommended that he have localized radiation. This began shortly after Peregrine was born; Erik went five mornings a week for five weeks, then went faithfully to work each day. He experienced nausea similar to that of morning sickness during this time. His long term follow-up entailed biannual CT scans for the first few years, and then every two years for the rest of his life.

We're incredibly thankful that God allowed us to catch this early and got us into a doctor quickly. If we'd waited several weeks for the first appointment, the cancer could have spread. Erik is now healthy and has been cancer free for five years! We're also thankful that it didn't affect his fertility (obviously!) and that the Lord has surrounded us with such loving and supportive family and friends. Isn't God good to us, even when He allows us to go through such trials?

*If you have a husband or a son, you should be aware of testicular cancer. It is most common in young men between the ages of 20 and 39, but there have been cases in boys as young as 12. If detected early it's highly treatable and has an excellent survival rate. If not detected, it likes to spread to the lungs and chest area. Men are supposed to do monthly self-exams to check for any swelling, hardness, lumps, or discomfort in the testicles, and should see a doctor right away if anything is out of the ordinary. Making the men in your life aware of this could save their lives!

Moment

2011-10-26T06:00:00.000-07:00

Canal House in Strassbourg, France, 2004

I don't remember the moment we first talked of a round-the-world journey. Sometime last spring we had this crazy idea: what if we took a year to travel around the world, experiencing different cultures, visiting friends, and seeing places that are significant to our faith as Orthodox Christians? This idea, instead of fading away like so many others, took root and began to grow. Over the last several months it's become the topic of much discussion, dreaming, and planning. We've been excited to find blogs, websites and even books written by families who've done similar things. We've gotten guide books from the library, printed out maps and colored in the countries we'd like to visit, and begun to make contacts in different places. Our kids talk about it with excitement. We've connected with and been encouraged by other traveling families and also received a lot of support from our friends and family.

Erik and I never intended to settle down in the United States and raise our family here. In fact, if you'd have told me ten years ago that I'd own a home in the suburbs and be driving a mini-van I'm sure I would have told you that was someone else's life, not mine. But one thing after another happened to keep us here. In our first year of marriage we had a baby and Erik had cancer; just a couple little reasons why we started putting down roots instead of stretching our wings. More babies joined us, we moved a couple more times, and ten years later here we are. Still. It's been good, and I'm grateful for this time; I don't regret being here at all.

We've always known, since before we got married, that we wanted to live a different sort of life; the surprising part is that we've been settled so long. I cannnot point to a moment where we knew we wanted to do something different; rather this is a culmination of many years of dreaming, hoping, and knowing that one day we would be going. While we've always planned to leave "someday", we also let ourselves get pretty settled. After our trip to Mexico last winter we came home knowing that it was time to start taking some serious steps toward launching out. Still unsure of exactly where we wanted to land, we came up with the idea of traveling slowly, stopping long enough to get a feel for places, and knowing that when the time is right we'll know where we're to land.

As I watch things unfold in our country, I feel more and more sure that this is the right decision for our family. Both Erik and I have spent time in many different countries, and we've been able to travel a fair bit with our kids as well. For me, I feel there is something alive, a part of me that awakens, when I travel. We've always been amazed at how well our kids travel, at how adaptable and uninhibited they are. We desire to expose them to places, to people, to ways of doing things that are different than what they know. We want them to learn firsthand as much as possible. We admire the way relationships take precedence over possessions in many of the places we've visited. As much as we attempt to instill this in our children, we find we're fighting an uphill battle against a culture that plagues them with marketing and that actively seeks to tear families apart. We realize we must fight to pull our family together, and for us we feel the best way to do that is to radically simplify our lives and launch into a different sort of life.

It is a thousand little moments that have led us to this one; this one where we're ready to leave behind what is familiar and embrace a path somewhat uncertain. In a way, it's as if we've been preparing, or being prepared for this, for a lifetime. In looking back over my life, I'm often struck by how one thing leads to another, and the way not taken shapes our story too. Each moment we are offered a choice and it is all of those moments that make up a lifetime. I'm excited to see what is in store as we seek to live every moment to the fullest, to choose the things that are important and to see where the wind blows us.

This post was part of a group writing project of Families on the Move. You can read about the moment other families knew they wanted to change their life here:

Living Outside of the Box: The Moments That Added Up
Bohemian Mom: First Moment we Decided to Change our Life
Worldschool Adventures: The Moment of Inspiration in Hoi An Vietnam
Livin' on the Road: Whose Idea Was It?
Tripping Mom: The Moment I Decided to Live Abroad, Just Me and My Child
The Great Family Escape: Capturing the Moment
Family on Bikes: One Moment in Time: A Lifetime of Adventures
Family Trek: The Moment we Knew we Were Made for More
Raising Miro on the Road of LIfe: 'The Moment' is all there is
New Life on the Road: It Only Takes a Moment

A Day Out in Portland

2011-10-22T22:29:00.000-07:00

It's only a little after nine o'clock on a Saturday night and all is quiet save for the traffic I hear through the window. I'm sitting in the living room of the condo we've rented for the weekend and thinking back over our very full day. I feel we packed in enough activity to last us for a week, but there's more to come tomorrow (church and a wedding) and the next day (visiting with friends). We started out yesterday by driving north toward Portland and settled into our home away from home. I was happy to discover airbnb, where I found a two bedroom condo for our family for much less than we'd have paid to stay in a hotel. It was my first time using it, but I'm sure it won't be the last.

It seems our first night away from home is never a restful one, and last night was no exception. Most of the kids slept well, but Erik and I both started the day pretty tired. We left here around nine this morning and met our good friends Dimitri and Sarah at Old Wives Tales, and great family restaurant on Burnside. Not only do they have a kid friendly menu, but there's a fun room where the kids can play while the adults talk about boring adult stuff. It's kind of a win-win. It was so good to see Dimitri and Sarah again.

After our late breakfast we headed back across the river in search of a decent cup of coffee for some unnamed man for whom only the best will do. To be fair, when he asked me if I wanted anything, I said I'd like a cup of chai, but only if it was made in house; no Oregon Chai or Tazo Chai. So, yeah, we all have our own little snobberies. Coffee for the man, chai for the mama, and steamers for the kids, and we were good to go. By this time, the kids seemed to think it ought to be time to eat again, but we distracted them by stopping off at a playground in the Laurelhurst neighborhood. It was a lovely fall day, with balmy sunshine breaking up the blustery gray. The trees are in their glory, red and gold and brown, with just enough crackly leaves on the ground to kick up as you walk along. The kids had fun at the playground; they seem to have a nearly endless supply of energy!

We continued our journey east until we came to Portland Nursery where we met up with my brother Josh, his wife Annie, and the cutest baby in Portland, Jacob. It was Apple Tasting at the nursery, and we lined up to taste over 50 varieties of apples and pears. Who knew? I was surprised by the subtle differences between them, how the flesh of some is pure white while others are more of a pale gold. Or how one is almost floral in its sweetness and another is tart. Erik's favorite was a Rubinette; I liked the Swiss Gourmet and Spitzenberg. In addition to apple tasting, there was a cider press, free popcorn, cooking demonstrations, live music, and activities for the kids. Annie accompanied Peregrine on a scavenger hunt all over the nursery; he was pretty excited to find all the clues. Poppy and Raphael sat and painted little pumpkins to bring home. Let's just say this involved a little paint and a lot of glitter. While all the fun fall activities were great, one of the top attractions for the kids was playing on and around the old caboose that sits out front of the nursery.

There had been an awful lot of snacking taking place since our long ago breakfast, but we were feeling hungry for some real food by this time. Annie had just talked with her mom, who happened to have made a huge pot of pozole and kindly invited us to come over. Hmmmm, homemade pozole or restaurant food? We didn't need to think too hard before accepting that offer. We stepped into Maria's house and were instantly welcomed. The kids sprawled out, played, and ate. Peregrine enjoyed practicing his Spanish with Maria, and of course she was delighted at his attempts to speak her mother tongue. Erik and I enjoyed steaming bowls of delicious pozole, topped off by some Italian pignolia cookies. (I couldn't resist; Josh and Annie brought them back from Philadelphia just last night. These are the same cookies my dear old Italian aunts would just about stampede each other, and us, to get to. They're that good.) Hanging out with Annie's family is a lot like hanging out with mine. Everyone is welcome. You can lay on the couch and feel totally comfortable. There is lots of food to go around. We were blessed to get to be there and share in their family tonight.

It was close to 7 when we said our final thank yous, muchas gracias', and goodbyes, and headed back toward our home away from home. Little Raphael was just about tripping over himself he was so tired, and actually saying things like "let's go home and go to bed". We were pleased to get through such a big day with no major meltdowns. The kids have mostly settled down, and here we sit, quiet and nearly ready to head to bed ourselves. It was a full day with lots of food, family, friends, and fun.

Maple Pumpkin Custard

2011-10-19T17:18:00.000-07:00

I love the turning of the seasons, and there's none I enjoy so well as Autumn. Here in the Pacific Northwest, we're blessed with a long fall. The decidous trees slowly reveal their fiery golds and reds against the backdrop of abundant evergreens. The air is decidedly cooler, and misty mornings are common, but we're still having lots of brilliant sunshine and temperatures warm enough that the kids are running around in shorts and t-shirts. Indoors, we've been lighting candles, baking, and enjoying a fire in the evening.

As the days grow shorter, my thoughts inevitably turn toward creating things. Whether it's coming up with some new dish in the kitchen- pumpkin custard or roasted chicken and vegetable soup- or learning a new craft, I feel compelled to create. On Monday I made play dough with the kids; now that I know just how simple it is I feel silly I've never done it before. Two things I plan to do this fall are learn to knit and to make sourdough bread. I just cast on my first row of stitches, and am quite excited about trying my hand at a new art. Next week I will begin my first sourdough starter.

I had a little puree left from a pumpkin I roasted several days ago, and rather than freezing it, Poppy and I created this simple custard that is a perfect treat for a fall day. As it bakes the pumpkin rises to the top, leaving you with a pie-like layer on top of silky maple flavored custard to make a nourishing treat. Enjoy!

Maple Pumpkin Custard
Makes 8 - 3/4 C. Servings

4 Eggs

2 Egg Yolks

1/4-1/3 C Pure Maple Syrup (depending on how sweet you like it)

2 C Milk

1/3 C Sour Cream or Whipping Cream

1/2 C Pumpkin Puree

1 t Cinnamon, plus 1/4 t each Cloves, Nutmeg, and Ginger

-or-

1 1/2 t Pumpkin Pie Spice

1 t Vanilla

1/4 t Sea Salt

Preheat oven to 375 F. Put all ingredients in a blender and puree until well combined. Place ramekins or small glass dishes into a roasting pan and then fill them with the mixture. (Alternately you could bake it in a small casserole dish.) Pour boiling water into the roasting pan until it's about an inch deep. Bake for 35-45 minutes, until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean. When cool enough to handle, remove ramekins from the water. Enjoy warm or refrigerate and eat cold.

I hope you are enjoying a lovely fall as well! To what does this season inspire you?

This post is part of Real Food Forager's Fat Tuesday, Food Renegade's Fight Back Friday, and The Nourishing Gourmet's Pennywise Platter.

A Day at the Farm

2011-10-10T15:58:00.000-07:00

For the third year in a row, our family has enjoyed a fun-filled day at Northern Lights Christmas Tree Farm. We couldn't have asked for a more beautiful Autumn day at the farm!

Pumpkins being launched from the trebuchet. Farmer Bob makes this not only fun, but educational!

Some people have to pick the biggest pumpkin they can lift!

The littlest Pumpkin. Scrumptious.

Live music from the Oregon Old-Time Fiddlers Association!

The Chicken Whisperer, 2011.
(I have a picture of her on the chicken from last year too.)

Peregrine raising his arms in victory after taking part in a pie eating contest!

Raphael and Poppy on the upper deck of the Hayflower, a life size haybale Mayflower!

Pearl seemed to love playing in the hay!

Turkey in the Straw... uh, I mean, Raphael in the straw!

Peregrine chasing a hoop, a game Colonial children played.

The FamFam in front of an 1100 pound pumpkin.

A perfect day for sitting atop an old tractor.

A wonderful time was had by all!

Pilgrimage

2011-09-29T16:42:00.000-07:00

At church on Sunday the pastor told of a man who, when asked where he was from, replied "I'm from Paradise". I've been thinking about that all week. As a follower of Christ, I know in my mind that I'm a citizen of a heavenly kingdom and that this world is not my home. It's so easy to forget and live like this is all there is. I've spent many months of my life traveling with not much more than what could fit in my backpack. At those times I remember thinking of all the things I had at home and how I really could live without them. But inevitably, when I get home and start settling down, my "stuff" becomes more and more important, to the point where it's easy to fix my mind and heart on having more and more of the comforts that this life offers. Psalm 84:5 says "Blessed is the man whose strength is in You, Whose heart is set on pilgrimage." Another version says "in whose hearts are the highway to Zion". We are called to be pilgrims and strangers in this world, our hearts fixed on heaven.

        While passing through the airport in Dhaka, Bangladesh several years ago, I saw a group of Muslim men going on a pilgrimage to Mecca. There was something powerful about their presence. Each man was dressed in white robes and their voices rose in united prayer and song. They exuded a feeling of excitement and expectancy: this was a culmination of years of longing, saving, and planning, as many were already old men. They were singular in their focus, united in their goal of reaching Mecca and fulfilling one of the requirements of Islam. I will never forget the impression that seeing those men made on me.

        When people look at us as followers of Jesus of Nazareth do they see a people who are traveling or one who is content to stick around here and be as comfortable as possible? When I'm camping, or traveling, it's easy to forgo many of the things that I might like to have, because I know it's only for a while. I'm afraid that I too easily lose the focus that life as we know it is just temporary and my real, eternal home is in heaven. How easy it is to store up treasures here and forget that my heart is to be set on pilgrimage. The dictionary offers a couple definitions of a pilgrim:

        1.        A religious devotee who journeys to a shrine or sacred place.
        2.        One who embarks on a quest for something conceived of as sacred.
        3.        A traveler.

        As a Christian, want all of those to characterize my life. I'm journeying to a sacred place, to the very heart of God, and someday to eternal joy in His presence. He has put me here on this earth to glorify Him and to learn to love Him. He has given me many things to enjoy and to use here, but I must remember that I'm only here for a while. I'm a foreigner, just passing through, and someday I will go home. Abraham was called out of Ur, and in Hebrews 9:10-11 we are told "By faith he went to live in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God." He lived in the land that God gave him, yet as in a foreign land. I need to remember that I'm just a traveler here, a camper, and there are many things I can do without, because it's only for a while. My prayer is that I will dwell in this land in the same way Abraham did, looking forward with excitement and longing to my true home and what awaits me there.

This is a repost from 2006, shortly after I started blogging. I thought it was appropriate to share it again as we prepare to pull up stakes and embark on our own pilgrimage of sorts. Our home, where we've dwelt for the last six years, will soon be on the market, and we wait with excitement to see how and when we'll be able to leave.

Moved With Compassion

2011-09-26T16:20:00.000-07:00

These three little words have been floating around in my head for the last several weeks: moved with compassion. They come from stories about Jesus, how he would look upon someone and be "moved with compassion". What followed was always some sort of loving action. Jesus didn't merely feel sympathy; He did something to help. He healed the sick and touched the untouchable. He taught the multitudes, spoke to them life giving words that opened hearts and minds. He lifted the burden of guilt, the heaviness of the law, by extending forgiveness and grace. He fed hungry people and opened blind eyes. He took children on His knees and blessed them.

The dictionary defines compassion as sympathetic consciousness of others' distress together with a desire to alleviate it. As I've pondered these words I've realized how often I've failed to have true compassion on my children. How often I've brushed off minor injuries or the seemingly little things that concern them greatly. How I've ignored a child who I deem to be "overreacting" to a situation. I've subconsciously expected them to have a maturity they simply don't have, to realize that a torn page or a lost pencil isn't really a big deal. But it's a big deal to them, causing them distress. And a compassionate response would make their concern mine and do whatever is in my power to alleviate it. So often I've offered words, hollow words, a flippant "oh, I'm sorry" or "that's too bad" with no action, no movement to help them.

As I've journeyed toward a more grace-filled relationship with my children, I've been thinking about how compassion is not just a loving and helpful reaction to their distress, but it also compels me to be a lot more pro-active. I'm sad to say that my discipline has often grossly lacked compassion; I've expected too much of them and then been frustrated and angry when they failed to perform. Now, I do think children should learn to obey, but instead of using my energy to repeat myself, get frustrated, and punish them when they don't, a more compassionate response would be to get up and help them. This is a lot harder to do, especially when I'm breastfeeding a baby, or reading to another child, or anytime I'm doing something else. But what if, after giving a child a direction and seeing them hesitate or even run the other way, I simply get up and cheerfully ask if they needed a little help? Or put my hands on theirs and did it with them? This communicates to them not only that I do expect them to do what they've been told, but also that I'm on their side and will do what it takes to help them. At the point that I've issued a directive and my child is having a hard time obeying, whether they're being obstinate or simply distracted or childish, I can move in with compassionate help instead of punishment. Either way, I'm expending energy, but the movement of helping them builds up our relationship in a way that punishment never does. Both actions communicate that I mean business, but one also communicates grace.

There is a verse, in the 103rd Psalm, that I read nearly every week. It says "As a Father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear Him." It serves as both gentle inspiration and sobering reminder that I am shaping my children's view of God. I so often fail to show them how full of grace He is. God, in His great compassion for me, equips and strengthens me to do what He asks me to do; shouldn't I do the same for my children? He gently leads and guides and helps and empowers me. He's gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and rich in mercy. He models exactly what kind of parent I should be; He is moved with compassion toward me, actively offering help every moment. The only acceptable response to this is to look upon my children and be moved with compassion, to follow the example of my kind-hearted and merciful Christ and speak words of life, to offer a healing touch, and to take my them on my knees and let His blessing flow through me to them.

Elderberry Syrup

2011-09-22T12:04:00.000-07:00

Image from the Bulk Herb Store, where I buy my elderberries.

As summer fades away thoughts turn toward the upcoming months of cooler weather, cozy mornings, rain, crackling fires... and colds and flu. We're thankful for the good health our family enjoys, and I believe a big part of this comes from eating plenty of nourishing, real food. One of my favorite foods to boost the immune system is the humble elderberry; simmered down into a simple syrup, it becomes a nourishing and delicious tonic. Instead of buying expensive bottles of it at the health food store, it's simple and frugal to make at home, and you can control what sweetener you use, as well as how much you put in.

Here's what the Bulk Herb Store, where I've bought dried elderberries, has to say about them: Elderberries are tasty flu fighters. They contain compounds that inhibit the enzyme flu viruses from penetrating our cell membranes and also prevent the virus from invading respiratory tract cells. Taken early enough, as a tea or tincture, you may be able to head off an upcoming illness before it becomes a full-blown flu. They are especially good for bronchitis, colds, coughing, and influenza. Also contains substances that ease inflammation and pain and soothe the intestines, thus making them useful in all inflammatory bowel diseases.

If you'd like to make this wonderful food for your own family this cold and flu season, here's a simple recipe to get you started. I try to give my kids a spoon full every day through the cooler months; sometimes they take it straight and other times I mix it in with kefir, milk, or put it in a smoothie. If someone seems to be getting sick, they get some several times a day. You can read more about elderberry here. As with anything, please do your own research on any potential risks or benefits.

Elderberry Syrup

1/2 lb (approx. 2 C.) Dried Elderberries (Sources below)

16 C Pure Water

Spices (Optional - 2 cinnamon sticks, 8 cloves, a chunk of ginger, a few cardamom pods.)

8-12 C. Honey (preferably raw)

2-4 T Clear Alcohol (Everclear or Vodka) (Optional)

In a large stainless steel pot, pour water over dried elderberries. Soak for a couple of hours, until berries have softened. Add optional spices and bring to a boil. (I think the spices make it taste nicer, but don't always use them.) Lower heat and simmer for a couple of hours, until the water is noticeably reduced. It has a very pungent, bitter, almost burnt smell; this is normal! You will notice small "oil slicks" on the top of the water. Take off heat and strain the liquid into a large bowl. Add in an equal amount of honey' this will vary depending on how much you reduced the liquid. It will take a while for the honey to dissolve into the elderberry juice; you can use a stick blender to speed it up if you like.

Once it's well mixed it should be at room temperature and you can add the optional alcohol. This will act as a preservative and make your syrup last longer. In past years I've not used it, and have found my syrup lasts our family of 6 through the winter season, with enough to share. (Although it molded after that.) This year, I used some elderberry tincture as a preservative to increase the immune boosting properties of this syrup. Whether or not you choose to use alcohol, you'll need to refrigerate or freeze this; it can only be made shelf stable by adding a LOT more sugar or honey, which I prefer not to do.

This recipe makes 4-5 quarts of syrup, plenty for a large family plus some to share. To make a smaller batch, use the basic formula of 2 C Water for every 1/4 C dried berries, then add an equal amount of honey.

Dried Elderberries can be purchased from The Bulk Herb Store, Mountain Rose Herbs, or Wilderness Family Naturals.

This post is part of The Nourishing Gourmet's Pennywise Platter, Food Renegade's Fight Back Friday, and Real Food Forager's Fat Tuesday blog carnivals.

Simple Science

2011-09-14T16:07:00.000-07:00

Poppy informed me the other day that she doesn't like Science, which I took with a grain of salt. As you can see here, she doesn't seem to mind it one bit. This is a simple and fun project we did for the first time a couple years ago to help the kids learn their primary colors. I'm not sure that Poppy remembered it, so it was like doing it for the first time with her.

We started with the primary colors, and a little plain water in the other three jars.

I asked her which two colors she thought would make orange, so this was her answer.
She was surprised to learn that blue and yellow make green, not orange!

Aha! Red and yellow make orange!

Uh, I'm not sure this is going to make purple...

I did it! I made a rainbow!

Thumbs up from Peregrine!

Raphael, aka Superman, got in on the action too. You can see yellow droplets
of water dripping off his face. Might be kryptonite.

After the camera was put away, the kids had a blast playing "chemistry lab". There were colorful explosions all over the place, and skin turning all kinds of funky colors. If you're ever in our neck of the woods, watch out for my mad little scientists and their "Formula 14"!

Full

2011-09-09T22:20:00.000-07:00

It's strange how a heart can hold so many things. I read somewhere that you can only feel one emotion at a time, but I don't believe it for a minute. Today as I sat on a fallen log watching my children scramble over slippery stones and wade in cool water, my heart was filled with both joy and sorrow. What joy to hear their happy chatter and cries of delight as they played beneath a tumbling waterfall! And at the same time, my thoughts turned to things that might have been.

On this day five years ago I lay helplessly on a hard bed in the Emergency Room of our local hospital. I'd known for nine days that the baby I'd been carrying was no longer alive, and I'd waited through each with a mixture of grief and anger and peace and the tiniest bit of hope that maybe, just maybe, there really was life still hidden away within me. I'd waited for my body to give up that little one; I'd hoped and prayed for a peaceful passing. Instead I, hemorrhaged in the night, losing a frightening amount of blood and ending up in the Emergency Room. The next weeks dragged by as I slowly regained strength and learned to live with the loss of our precious baby.

I sat in the forest today, holding my sweet little Pearl, watching Peregrine wading and Raphael balancing on fallen logs. I spotted bright thimbleberries growing in shady places and called Poppy over to introduce her to their melt-in-your-mouth sweetness. We decided they're the food of faeries, and I think she liked them as much as I do. The kids spotted a crawdad; they all crowded around to watch it. Erik stood far off and took pictures of them playing, of the trees, of the water cascading over the rocks. He came close and played with them, helped Raphael over the slippery places, cheered Peregrine on in his quest to touch the waterfall. Peregrine decided it's the place where he'll ask "the girl" when he decides to get married. (Only he won't plunge into the water on that day. He's got it all planned.)

I let my heart wander with my thoughts, thinking of a little one I never got to know, never held outside my womb. She would be 4 1/2 now. I wondered if she'd look like Poppy or like Pearl, or totally different. I really don't even know if she was a girl, but in our minds she is. We gave her a name. Of course we gave her a name; she is our Esther Bihana Hope. Peregrine, our perceptive boy, knew I was pregnant before I did, and he told me her name was Esther. Bihana is the Nepali word for morning. (I think of a long ago morning, an empty tomb. The Morning of mornings.) Hope is both my mom's middle name as well as what we hold on to. And when there is no strength to hold onto hope, Hope holds onto us.

The familiar words of the Nicene Creed echo in my heart. I await the resurrection of the dead and the life of the age to come. I know someday we will be together. Our Esther is not dead; she is truly alive. She is where there is no sorrow or pain, a place where someday, God will wipe every tear from my eyes. But for today, my joy is mingled with sorrow when I look at the four children who are here with me, and think of the two I do not yet know. (We lost another baby to miscarriage several months after Esther.) Today, I remember these babies and my heart is full, but there is room for both sorrow and joy.

Kidspeak

2011-09-08T14:44:00.000-07:00

Peregrine and Poppy looking out at Laguna Yal Ku, Mexico, 2007.
They were so little!

I came across a fun contest the other day on Ciao Bambino, a website with the goal of inspiring families to travel the world. (Not that I actually need any more inspiration!) To enter the contest, you had to ask your kids for their best travel advice. Here's what Peregrine and Poppy came up with:

Peregrine (8 years):

Visit towns that are less of a tourist attraction. You'll find them to be a lot more quiet, peaceful, and convenient.
Also, never buy cheap souvenirs; they'll last you for not very long.
And one more good travel tip: the smaller the restaurant, the better the food!

Poppy (6 years):

Don't climb Mount Everest and fall and get killed.
Do kayak in the river.
Make sure to not eat poison oak.
Keep your seat belt on in an airplane.
Don't jump out of an airplane without a parachute.

That, my friends, just may be proof enough that my kids are getting a decent education! If nothing else, they won't be buying cheap souvenirs, eating poison oak in fancy restaurants, or falling off of Mount Everest!

Living With Less

2011-09-06T05:00:00.000-07:00

Random Things

With a nearly constant barrage of advertisements inducing us to purchase more, to trade up, and to own the newest, fastest, and best, as well as the availability of credit, it takes a real effort to live with less. I wish I could say that I've resisted the marketing, but I haven't. I've slipped into rampant consumerism with the best of them, believing that happiness could be found if only I acquired just the right stuff. Of course I know this isn't true, but I've sure amassed a lot of unnecessary things acting like it is.

I've often looked around my home and felt completely overwhelmed by our things and the energy they require of me. Do I own them, or do they own me? Do they bring me enjoyment or enslave me? So much time is spent trying to keep it all picked up, put away, organized, and clean. Is that really how I want to spend my time? I know that life is simplified and and enhanced by having certain things, but without really thinking about it, we've amassed a lot more that what we really need.

I'm in the process of trading more stuff for less, and of exchanging stability for adventure. I'd take a smaller house for my bigger one, or, for a while, no house at all. We're setting out on the pilgrim way, leaving behind the familiar for the unknown. What do I think I'm going to gain from stepping out of this comfortable life and from letting go of material posessions? The example of saints through the ages, people who have given up everything to acquire the Spirit of peace, show me that I have everything to gain. And really, nothing to lose. Less time taking care of things will mean more time caring for and being with the people I love. Less attachment to what cannot last will help me to be more aware of what is eternal. Less to call my own will make it easier to live in community with those around me. And less to worry about will enable me to fully breathe in the gift of grace that is each moment.

It all sounds great, but I can tell you this with certainty: it's a lot harder to get rid of than it was to collect. I've been consistently going through our home and paring down for the last couple years. Every item I come across requires me to make a decision and then act on it; that gets tiring! As we prepare to leave for an open ended adventure, we're slowly parting with a lot, but it still feels overwhelming at times. With every box that leaves the house I feel a little lighter. I made a goal a few months ago to reduce by half, and while I don't really have a way to tell if we're there, we're making progress. Bookcases have been emptied, drawers and closets are looking a little less stuffed, totes full of fabric and craft supplies have been given away. It feels good!

A line from a favorite song keeps running through my head: "Sometimes the only way to return, is to go where the winds will take you, and to let go, of all you can not hold on to." (Beyond the Blue by Josh Garrels.) I'm ready to go where the wind takes me. I'm throwing off the weight of too many possessions and lightening my material load. I'm letting go of things I can't hold on to anyway. By seeking to live with less, I'm embracing more of what is truly important to me: my family, faith, relationships, growing in grace, creativity, travel, and discovery.

This post is part of a group writing project of Families on the Move. Read what others have to say about living with less:

Dare to Not Compare: Kid Version

2011-08-30T16:28:00.000-07:00

When I first became a mama, it all seemed so simple...

   I was both humbled and encouraged by your response to my last post, Dare to Not Compare. I've been blessed as many of you have shared that you struggle with the same things. There's strength in numbers, isn't there? And something so healing in exposing the not-so-tidy bits of my life and finding that many of you can relate, that we're all just real people after all.

   My friend Shannon mentioned how we can also compare our children to others, and how there can be a fine line between wanting to encourage them toward excellency and making them feel condemned. This really got me thinking, and is along the lines of a major parenting paradigm shift I've been undergoing the last year or so. If comparing our kids to others, whether by our words or our attitudes, makes them feel condemnation instead of grace, then something is grossly wrong with my approach. It can be so subtle, but can easily run like a strong undercurrent in my relationship with them. This is so far from what I want for them, and yet an honest examination of the way things are reveals that I have done this too much, if not with my words, certainly with my attitude.

   Deep breath....

   One of my children, and if you know me in real life, you will know which one, is a very challenging child. Highly intense, sensitive, active, extremely intelligent, perceptive, persistent, and emotional, are a few words that could be used to describe him. I can see the positives in these traits, but when you put them all together in an immature human, you have an explosive combination that can, and often does, create a lot of stress in our family dynamic. And when this one child takes about 75% of his mama's energy and attention, I begin to struggle with feelings of resentment.

   In the early years of his life, I would have used words like "defiant, strong-willed, and stubborn" to describe him. I took popular parenting advice and applied it to him, countering his fierce will with mine, meeting his stubbornness with what I deemed an appropriate consequence, and exercising my "authority". While I knew that each child was unique, I was still swayed by the notion that if you input a + b, you will get the desired result of c. (Something like love + consistent discipline, aka punishment, equals a happy, obedient child.) Sounds easy enough, right?

   Fast forward a few years, and something seems to have gone terribly wrong. My child, who is "supposed" to be happy and well adjusted, seems to have a very difficult time making wise choices. There is a lot of what appears to be anger there, and those tantrums that your two year old would only throw two or three times at the most if you dealt with them "the right way"? They still happen with a frequency and intensity that can be frightening at times.

   I have looked around at the other kids his age; they don't do this. I've struggled with silent, and sometimes not-so-silent resentment, that we are dealing with things that most kids his age left behind a long time ago. I've compared him, and in doing so, I've condemned. I've communicated to my precious child, not grace, but a deadly message that "you don't measure up", that "you are not what I was hoping for". Of course I've never said those words, and like to think I never would. I haven't even thought them exactly, but I've certainly felt them.

   I don't know what is going on with my son, but more and more I'm realizing that the "problem" is not one of merely behavior, and no amount of consequences is going to change him. There is something different in the way he is wired, and he requires a whole lot of love, understanding, and grace. (The love and grace must be super-natural, and we're seeking help on the understanding part. Of course, I think this is what all children require, but he even more so.) I wonder how much the approach we took in the early years worked against him, how much I tore him down instead of built him up. (And here I must remember to let grace wash over me, too. There is no condemnation. There are new mercies every morning. There is healing.)

   As I stood, sat, and wrestled my way through church on Sunday, I was flooded with these thoughts. (Yes, sometimes it feels like wrestling, with a baby in arms, and a couple of other kids who seem to want to hang all over me, or roll all over the floor, or something of the sort!) It's liberating to accept that my kids are unique, that the other family over there, the ones whose children sit still? They're just different kids. It's okay, it's even better than okay, to let go of my expectations. Maybe my son needs a small something to fidget with, or a walk outside in the middle of the service. The last thing I want is to make him miserable and resentful of being there, and so I need to do what it takes to help him. Not to change him, not to project my expectations onto him, but to accept who he is, and to help him.

   I've thought many times of writing about my son. I think one of the things that has prevented me, apart from not wanting to expose my family's "dirty laundry", is my fear of being judged. I say that, because I've judged so many other parents, especially before I had my own children. "Why doesn't she just do something about him?" I've shared these struggles before and been given plenty of well-meaning advice, much of it consisting of more ways to "discipline". My mama heart knows that is not what is needed here. What "worked" for another child in another family might have been just the thing for them, but there is no formula to apply here. I must stop comparing my spirited child with someone else. It's wrong, and it only damages him and my relationship with him.

   Will you pray for us? Will you pray for healing, and wisdom, and grace? Will you pray that I will joyfully accept who my child is, with all that it entails, and be granted love and understanding to build him up, to help him become all he can be?

  I share this in the hope that it will encourage some of you as well. May God give us all grace to love our children just as they are. To those of you who "know" what I'm talking about, my heart goes out to you. Hold on to hope, mamas! I can think of a few of my "real life" friends who will know exactly what I'm talking about, and I'm sure there are more of you. Blessings to all...

Dare to Not Compare

2011-08-23T17:04:00.000-07:00

Some people have nice fire pits: we just use the basin from an old washing machine.

   I recently read an article about how social networking is making people miserable. The premise was that people tend to put their best self out there, leaving others to feel they are the only ones experiencing the difficulties of life. I have found, the more I'm on the internet, the more likely I am to compare my life with someone else's. Of course I know this is pointless and foolish, but the thoughts creep in, and I have to be vigilant to not let the seemingly rosy glow of someone else's life make mine seem dull.

   I noticed this most recently as many home schoolers are happily finishing up lesson plans, posting photos of lovely, organized school rooms, well thought out menu plans, and schedules organized down to the moment. And here I sit, just enjoying summer, thoughts of the upcoming school year surfacing here and there but not taking up too much space.

   This is when the ugly beast of Comparison sends in her twin, Condemnation. Condemnation comes to visit me a lot lately, and I'm trying for the life of me to not to let her in. Condemnation whispers, sometimes shouts at me: "You're not doing enough! You need to try harder! You're kids would be more obedient (happier, kinder) if only you were a better Mom. You suck! Her house is clean and she has twice as many kids as you. They would be better off with someone else. You send your kids to bed with dirty feet: your Mom never would have done that, and she had five kids! You haven't planned out the next school year yet! Dinner is late again?" And so on...

   When I stop and think about these things, I can tell myself the truth. Sometimes I need someone else to tell me the truth, because Condemnation can get pretty noisy. The truth is, that yes, I fail. Sometimes I yell at my kids and get impatient with my husband and my house is a mess and I waste a lot of time and am not prepared for things the way I could be. But the bigger reality is Grace, Love covering a multitude of my imperfections. And I am me, not some woman from some blog with some other family.

   My life is not yours, and I have no business comparing myself to you. On the other hand, I hope that you don't look at my life and hold it up next to yours. I have tried to write honestly about my struggles, but there are many things I haven't shared. Some hard things, things I hope to find the words to share soon.

   I am slowly learning to walk in compassion, to look into my own heart and not to guess at what is in the heart of someone else. I can look at their well organized home, or their well planned school year, or their well behaved children and admire those things. But I need to remember that what I see of them is only one part of their life, and possibly the best part; they have struggles too, just like I do. It's okay that my school year isn't highly organized. I actually prefer planning one week at a time and adjusting the next week's plans to accommodate anything we didn't get to. (Which is pretty common!) Most of our learning really doesn't fit into a schedule or a plan anyway, and that's what works for our family. Going to bed with dirty feet isn't going to hurt my kids; in fact, they aren't a bit bothered by it! I don't do very well sticking to a strict schedule, but I do need to work on the rhythm of our days.

   This is something that has been on my heart a lot lately. There's a lot of good stuff on the internet, wonderful ideas being shared by the million on blogs and websites. But none of us can do it all; we can only give thanks for what we're given and live in our own moments. I can do some things well, but not all things. I, with four young children, am in a different season of life than the mama who has older ones who can do more to help around the house. The dynamics in my family are created by the individuals that live here, now, with me, and it's going to look a lot different than yours. Each family has unique struggles and joys as well as their own areas of strength and weakness.

   And so I will embrace life, the one given to me! (It is, after all, the only one I've got.) I will try to learn from others without being envious or comparing myself to them. I'll keep reading the blogs of other people who inspire me, keeping in mind that I'm only seeing one little facet of their life. I will give thanks for my children with their different personalities, my husband and all he is, my crazy, messy, sometimes hard, and joy filled life!

Of Love and Blackberries

2011-08-21T15:05:00.000-07:00

This is a repost from a few years ago, but it is during "blackberry season" that I remember this story so fondly! (If you want to read how we met and grew to love each other you can find that story here.)

On August 18th of 2001 Erik came and picked me up to go pick blackberries with him. Just a month before he'd asked if he could court me, and though we'd been careful to never talk about marriage, we were enough acquainted with each other to know the other was looking for a spouse, not just a summer romance. It was a warm and pleasant afternoon; the blackberries were ripe and delicious and we were more than happy to be together. Here's what I wrote in my journal from that time:
I wore my grubbiest t-shirt for the occasion. Driving home from blackberry picking Erik seemed to take a rather indirect route and said there was a place he wanted to show me. He drove up a hill and parked the truck, then we got out and walked to the top. It was beautiful; we could see out over the city toward the coast. We were walking along enjoying it when we came upon a lovely picnic set out before us. Spread out beneath an oak tree was a red-checked cloth, a picnic basket, trays of cheese and crackers, fruit, vegetables and dip, chocolates, a bowl of pasta salad, sparkling peach juice, strawberry lemonade, and chips. I was completely surprised and thrilled that he would plan and pull off such a thing!
We'd been eating blackberries so we weren't very hungry at the moment. We sat and talked for a while then he said he'd bought something in London for me three-and-a-half years ago. I was, of course, rather curious as to what that would be! We'd known each other for longer than that, but on a very casual basis. He reached into the picnic basket and pulled out a red rose and a wrapped gift. When I opened it up I found a beautiful hair brush and comb set. The brush is made of ebony and inlaid with silver flowers and a butterfly. He then said that he had bought this for his wife! I looked at him in amazement. There was a part in the box for rings and in one of the slots was an exquisite ring. He then asked if I would marry him! The first thing out of my mouth was "Really?" Then, after a minute I said yes. Yes, yes, yes! He told me for the first time that he loved me. Before he would gaze at me affectionately and say "I like you" but now he told me of his love for me. I was glad he hadn't said it before; it meant so much more when accompanied by the commitment to marry me.
The rest of the evening was lovely, joyful. We enjoyed the picnic and we enjoyed the new freedom we had to share our hearts with one another, knowing that God had indeed chosen us to be together. The sky seemed a deeper blue and the trees a more vibrant green. The sun set and we lit a candle and sat, dreaming of our life together. We had both, of course, dreamed of our life together before that moment, but it was the first time we could share those thoughts out loud with the other.
We went back to my house where my parents were waiting up for us. Everyone except me knew that he was going to propose. Erik had taken my Dad out for coffee a few days before to ask his blessing to marry me, and had shopped for the picnic and enlisted my sisters to prepare and set it up. His Mom, who had been wanting this to happen for years, had wrapped the gift. They were all excited to hear how our day had gone and I got to show them my elegant and beautiful ring. I love to look at it, because it means I'm marrying Erik!
I have a deep sense of gratitude. In so many ways I can see how God has been preparing us for one another. I see in him things I've prayed for my husband. God has given us a common vision for ministry and family, something not to be taken for granted. I know that it won't be easy, it will take work, but we're committed to that work. We both see a healthy marriage and family as foundational to any ministry or work that the Lord will have us do. The waiting hasn't been easy, but I can say that it was good and definitely worth it!

And seven years later, I would agree- it was, and is worth it! My sister's pasta salad has been renamed "Engagement Salad" and we still like picking blackberries. We've moved a couple of times, had a couple of kids, lots of adventures, a few trials, and lots more picnics. I'm so thankful for this wonderful man and the life God has given us together.

Summer Days

2011-08-18T15:22:00.000-07:00

   I can't believe we're already past the middle of August. The days are full with all the usual things, plus extra visits with friends and lots of playing outside. I've also been working on a fun sewing project and continuing to clear stuff out of the house in preparation for our next big step.

   I just finished making a photo book on Shutterfly and was given the option to embed it on my blog, so I thought I'd try it out. A glimpse into our summer days!

Click here to view this photo book larger

I hope you're having a wonderful summer too!

Gifts of Grace

2011-07-28T16:33:00.000-07:00

A real life moment, a gift.

I woke up this morning and welcomed a new year; today I turn 36. I've been thinking a lot about grace and desiring to live a more grace filled life. Grace is a word that is thrown around a lot and seems to mean different things to different people. The dictionary has several definitions, the first being "elegance or beauty of form, manner, motion, or action" and another being "favor or goodwill". I like that grace can be both a noun and a verb; it's a gift we're given and something that becomes an action. My favorite definition of grace though, is the one in my Orthodox Study Bible. It simply says that grace is "the gift of God's own presence and action in His creation".

If I believe that God is "everywhere present and filling all things", then grace is everywhere. It is within me, it is in my children, it encompasses our very lives. It is not an impersonal force, but a loving presence, one who changes everything. So if I believe that life is infused with this marvelous grace, why do I so easily forget what's important, get irritated with my family, frustrated over dirt tracked across the floor again or a myriad of other trivial things? I desire to be a channel of grace to those around me, to be filled to overflowing with love and joy and peace. But the reality falls far short, and I sigh in frustration, or snap irritably at a precious child, or speak critically to my husband. Instead of speaking peace to squabbling siblings, my anger escalates with theirs, and we end up splintered instead of healed.

So many times, every day, I apologize for my impatience. And without fail, my children are quick to forgive, ready to move on. I receive this humbly, and in that moment, I remember the presence of God with us, of grace. I have only to open my eyes to see the Everywhere Present one filling, always filling us. We may slosh and spill anger and yet He pours grace; grace in every situation if only I will open my heart to receive it. In the muddy tracks on the floor I can choose to see and breathe thanks for the healthy strong legs of my sturdy little ones. In moments where brothers and sisters are fighting I can remember that there have been times we didn't know if we would be able to have any more babies, that each one is a precious, longed for gift.

In the giving of thanks, eyes and heart open to the grace all around, freely given. In the presence of God life is infused with beauty, favor is bestowed freely. My hope, my prayer, for this new year of my life is that I will see grace. Not just in the lovely moments, but in the times of chaos and hardship too. And as it's given, I want to give it to others, particularly to my children. St. Paul exhorted Timothy to "be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus". As I give thanks today for the life God has given me, I desire to co-operate with Him in making beauty out of ugly things and to see the world through the eyes of grace.

Book Review: The Eve Tree

2011-07-24T22:02:00.000-07:00

The Eve Tree, by Rachel Devenish Ford, is a book I’ve been waiting a long time to read. I’ve been privileged to know Rae for many years, from our first meeting in San Francisco, to the months spent together in Thailand, India, and Nepal in 2000. I’ve enjoyed her blog, journeymama.com, since she started it. She writes candidly about living a semi-nomadic life with her Superstar Husband and four children. Rachel is an artist at heart, and pours herself into creating, whether that is her family, their community, a painting, her blog or a book.

The Eve Tree is a novel that is more than the sum of its words, a story finely crafted and lovingly shaped by its author. On the surface, it’s a simple plot about a family, the land that is their heritage, and how they come together to prepare for a forest fire that is encroaching upon the ranch. At its center are Jack and Molly Boscelli, parents of three grown children and caretakers of their Northern California ranch home. As the threat of fire grows they’re joined by Catherine, Molly’s mother and previous owner of the ranch, as well as their children. While the family gathers to defend their land, they also share concerns over Molly, who had suffered a mental breakdown many years before.

What struck me most about The Eve Tree was how real the characters seem, and the way Rachel Devenish Ford has carefully crafted their relationships with one another. We see Molly as both a mother and a daughter, a wife, a friend; she is both fragile and strong. Jack is a faithful and loving husband, fighting as hard to protect his wife as to defend their ranch. Through vignettes into the history of the characters, the reader begins to understand how each has been shaped by their collective experiences.

While this is a fictional story, its players are completely believable.They are people who are broken, but not beyond healing. They have faith, but it is interwoven with doubt. While they have been shaped by their past, they can choose to move forward. They live with regret and shame and hurt, but they also hold onto hope and forgiveness. They are complicated, just like me and you, and yet simple in their basic desire for love and understanding and wholeness.

The Eve Tree is about more than just a forest fire and land and trees and a house; it’s about the things in our own lives that threaten to ravage and destroy. It’s about hope and healing and beauty rising from ashes. Rachel Devenish Ford shows a deep and hopeful understanding of humanity and a sensitivity to what she calls “the dark slippery places of the mind”. Days after finishing it, I find myself thinking about Jack and Molly and their family. The Eve Tree is an excellent first novel, and I look forward to reading more from this author.

The Kindle Edition of The Eve Tree is available for only $2.99 for a limited time only. It's also available in hard copy.

From her Amazon author page:

"Rachel Devenish Ford was born in Ontario, Canada, and grew up reading like a fiend in various small towns of British Columbia, Canada. In high school she realized she loved to write. Shortly after, she discovered that she loved to travel, and ever since, she's been writing and traveling the world.

Rachel spent six years working with homeless youth in San Francisco and Arcata, before embarking on the journey of her life with her husband and four children. She is still traveling now. You may bump into her in India, Nepal, or Thailand. Next, she'd like to try Venezuala.
She is hard at work on her second novel."

Cherries, and Something Yummy

2011-07-21T22:07:00.000-07:00

On a perfect summer's day in mid-July, my sister Gloria and I met at a local farm to pick cherries.
A lovely time was had by all!
(Cherry Honey Frozen Yogurt recipe below!)

Luscious fruit hung heavy on the branches.

Some of the best picking was to be found in Auntie Gloria's
basket. At least that's what a couple kids seemed to think!

There were some strange characters lurking about the farm!

Poppy surprised me by picking more cherries than I did!
She said she didn't eat any because she wanted to save
hers to make Something Yummy. Talk about self-control!

"I will pick mine jerries ever in mine life!"

Cousin Diego took his cherry eating pretty seriously.

Of course Gloria had to bring a cute basket to pick into!
No ugly plastic buckets for her.

All picked out!

My beautiful sister. (Well, one of my beautiful sisters!)

Happy mama, happy baby.

In Poppy's words:
"Pearl is astonished by how many cherries are up there!"

Pearl, of course, had to wear the appropriate shoes for the occasion.

Something Yummy #1:
A cherry cream pie, mostly raw.
(Pecan-coconut crust, cashew cream filling, and cherry topping.)

Something Yummy #2:
Poppy's Cherry Honey Frozen Yogurt

And here's Something Yummy for you!

Poppy's Cherry Honey Frozen Yogurt
2 C Pitted Fresh Cherries
1/2 C Cream
2 C Yogurt or Kefir
1/4-1/3 C Honey
1 T Vanilla or Almond Extract

Blend all ingredients. You can leave some of the fruit chunky if you like, or puree until smooth. Make sure mixture is cold, and then follow instructions for your ice cream maker.
If you don't have an ice cream maker, don't despair! There are several ways
you can make this recipe without it. Click here for ideas.
Enjoy!

This post is part of The Nourishing Gourmet's Pennywise Platter
and Food Renegade's Fight Back Friday.

Monkeous Boy

2011-07-19T15:47:00.000-07:00

   Oh my sweet Raphi,

   When did you get so big, my boy? You turned three a couple of months ago, and I'm just now getting to your birthday letter. I'll tell you this; you are the busiest boy around! You're so sure of yourself, so independent. You know what you want and you just go for it, no asking for permission, or help, or anything of that sort. When you were just a little floor baby, you were quite a climber. I can see now that it's part of who you are. You're not phased by obstacles. If you've seen someone else do it, you see no reason why you can't do it too. You're also incredibly persistent. If I say no, I'd better have a good reason and be prepared to defend it! I can't wait to see where this takes you in life!

   For all your "I can do it myself" attitude, you still love to be right by my side, involved and helping. If Daddy's home, it's him that you shadow. You're usually the first one up in the morning, and love to help daddy make his coffee, or go out and "zoast" coffee with him. Your help isn't always as, uh, helpful, as we might wish, but that's okay. We like that you like to be with us, right in the middle of the action. You love to stand on a chair while I'm cooking, and stir things and chop, and sprinkle spices in. I just have to keep an eye on you, because in your zeal (and knowledge) you'll start pulling spices off the shelf and cracking eggs before I'm really ready for that. (Pepper in the pancake batter? Been there. Egg on the floor? Done that.) Yep, you keep us on our toes!

   Daddy asked you one day if you were a good helper, and I loved your answer: "Nope, I'm just a kid and a monkey." That sums it up pretty well, actually. You remind me a lot of Curious George, and of the monkeys that I used to see in India - daring and inquisitive and a wee bit mischievous at times. You like Curious George stories, and when I pause to let you say "curious" you say "monkeous" instead. I think that's the perfect word for you, my little Man Cub! Busy and into everything, you are!

   You're about the most contrary boy I've ever known, too. But honestly, that really doesn't bother me too much. You like to say no, and contradict, but someday I'll be glad that you know your own mind and won't be easily pushed around. I'm glad though, that you weren't my first kid because I think I wouldn't have let it go like I do now. I still expect you to obey, but I'm a lot more careful to not give you an instruction that I'm not prepared to help you follow through with.

   Even though you're three years younger than Poppy, you have no idea you're not one of "the big kids". If ever we don't let you take part in something, you're quick to remind us that you're "big for that". One of your latest phrases that I love is "ever in mine life". You like to throw these out randomly, and often tell us that "I'm big for that" and "I will do that ever in my life!" Or, when you don't want to do something, it's an emphatic "never in mine life!"

   For as big and independent as you are, you're still a little mama's boy, and I'm glad of that, too. You're rough and wild one minute, and sweet and charming and gentle the next. You're (mostly) a sweet and gentle big brother to Pearl, crooning over her and stroking her softly. One day recently when you thought she wanted to me to nurse her, you informed me that you would share some of your mommy milk with her. I asked how you were going to do that, and you indicated that since it was down in your tummy, she could just drink it... through your belly button!

   Oh, mine Raphael, you're loving and fierce and wild and sweet all rolled into one charming boy. You have an amazing smile and eyes "like the sea after a storm". I love you so much. You're a wonderful gift from God, one that still brings healing, joy, and great blessing to your mama's heart.

   I love you, my monkeous boy-boy!

   Love, Mama

Dreaming My Dreams With You

2011-07-11T16:20:00.000-07:00

It's in so much of the marriage advice out there: cultivate common interests. At the beginning of our relationship ten years ago, I frankly didn't give it too much thought. After all, it was our common interests that brought us together. Check that one off the list. Of course we heard about the empty nesters who one day looked at each other and realized that with no kids in the house, they had nothing in common. Well, when you're starry eyed and just being in the same room is practically enough to sustain you, it's hard to imagine that would ever happen!

A few years down the road, and a couple kids later, and we still loved each other. A lot. But I can see how we settled a bit, or rather, a lot. Life took on a pretty normal routine; Erik going to work, I staying busy caring for our family and home. While I enjoy sewing and crafting and cooking, Erik is interested in photography and audio and roasting coffee. Sure, there were still plenty of things we enjoyed doing together, but somehow we lost sight of the dreams we once had together. We got so busy with life, with four kids and houses and jobs and homeschooling and chickens and health issues and paying bills and just making it through the day, that we sort of let our dreams slip away. Evening would come, and by the time the kids were in bed, we would often sit in the same room, together in a sense, but pursuing our own interests. We forgot that there was a big world out there, and that we still wanted to explore it, and that we still could, that this "American Dream" life we were living didn't seem to fit quite right.

Our love of travel and adventure and our desire to pursue a different sort of life is part of what brought us together in the first place. (Well, that and the amazing Sri Lankan curry Erik used to make.) We'd known each other for years, and even gone out a few times when we were on the same continent, but it was through the letters I wrote from Asia that he really became interested in me. (You can read our love story here.) Through the years, life here became pretty consuming and our old dreams were either buried in the past or way too far in the future. Somehow we forgot to keep dreaming together, to keep moving, however slowly, toward the things that were deep within both of our hearts.

Over the last year or so we've both felt a renewed energy and interest in moving on from here. After returning from three weeks in Mexico last February, something changed, and we found ourselves happily dreaming and planning and making small steps toward pulling up roots and going where the wind blows us. (We're still not entirely sure where that is!) One of the bonuses I hadn't anticipated is that it's been like a breath of fresh air for our relationship. I'd realized, and been bothered, that our interests seemed so divergent from one another, but I didn't know how to remedy it. (I really tried to get into the world of coffee roasting... I did. And I enjoy taking pictures, but start talking about shutter speeds and f-stops and depth of field and my eyes glaze over.)

Now I realize that we didn't need to give up our own interests, or dive into the other persons'. We just needed to "Go back to the beginning"! (I can't write that without hearing Vezzini say it in The Princess Bride.) It's been such a blessing to once again be dreaming our dreams together. And in that, we can still maintain our own unique interests. Erik is looking forward to visiting some coffee cultures and taking great pictures. I'm afraid his speakers and amplifier are going to have to stay at home though. (Sorry, my love!) One of my favorite things, true to my interests, is visiting local produce markets and learning to cook ethnic cuisine. We can do all of that, together.

So it turns out "they" were right; cultivating common interests is crucial to a relationship. I feel like we're closer and enjoying being together more. As a result of that, I can genuinely engage Erik about his interests, even the ones I don't really "get". Somehow they matter more to me now, not for my sake, but because they matter to him. (And I think he must feel the same way, given that he initiated a word game with me the other day. Not his favorite thing, but I love them.) I feel like there is more laughter, more smiles, more joy around our home these days, and for that, we're all grateful. I'm glad it only took ten years for us to remember the dream we had in the first place, and that we can begin to live it now, with our family. (Our years here, by the way, have been good and fruitful and full. I don't regret them a bit.)

If your relationship is feeling a bit dull these days, I highly recommend that you "Go back to the beginning!" I'm all for living in the moment, but you might need to go back a few years and dust off some old dreams. If your life looks nothing like what you were hoping for, then start dreaming together again. It's one time where living in the future a bit just might make the present a whole lot brighter.

I'd love to hear from others what things you've found to be helpful in keeping your relationships strong and healthy.

I've found that many people now comment on my posts via facebook, so I added a facebook box directly to the post to make it easier to converse. The regular comment box is there too.

Now We are Six

2011-07-05T15:07:00.000-07:00

   My dear Poppy,

   Here we are again, you growing so fast, and me hardly keeping up. You turned six three months ago, and I'm just now sitting down to write your birthday letter. That's kind of how life is these days, with you and your brothers and sister racing along, and me trying to catch up. You're part of a wild little pack, my girl!

   Six! You're not a little girl anymore; sometimes I look across a room at you and am surprised by how big you are. Not just taller, but more you somehow, like the little girl of a few years ago was a bud, swelling with life, and you're slowly unfurling your petals to become a lovely flower. One of my favorite things about you is how thoughtful you are of others. You're always drawing pictures and making little gifts for the people you care about. You love to pick me flowers and I often have a bouquet of them, chosen with love by my girl. When you get something special, you want to make sure your brothers aren't left out. I love that about you, and hope your generosity continues to bloom!

It's been so fun to see how much you love and care for Pearl. I will always remember how, when I was in labor with her, you kept bringing me little cards and pictures and flowers. You were like a butterfly, flitting in and out of the room, bringing joy and love. You were right there to welcome your baby sister, to smile down upon her, to whisper to her how pleased you were to finally meet her. And you've been such a sweet little mama-sister to her, helping, holding, singing, loving, and teaching her all about being a girl. Lately, you seem to have forgotten that she's still little and have gotten a bit rough with her at times. I guess she'll learn not only about fairies and dancing and sparkly things, but about getting along in the big rough world, too. I'm glad she has you for a big sister.

   You've taken dance lessons for two years now, and it's been fun to watch you grow more confident and graceful. Your creativity is really growing lately, and you've joined the ranks of the crafty, churning out all kinds of pictures and paper crafts. You're waiting patiently to learn how to sew, and love to sit on my lap when I'm sewing, holding pins, and helping however else you can. I learned like that from Grandma, many years ago, and I'm glad to pass that on to you. You like to cook too, and have a few things that are your own creations, and you're pleased to make them for us. Yesterday was the Fourth of July, and you made us parfaits for breakfast, vanilla yogurt layered with strawberries, blueberries, and granola. This was your idea and you pulled it off with lots of love and great pleasure.

   You're awfully quiet sometimes, and I have to work hard to figure out what's going on inside you. There are others around, who are a lot louder and talk enough for several people, but your voice is important too, and I hope that you know we can always talk. I need to work harder to carve out special time with only you; we both seem to need that.

   I love that when you come out in the morning, you still want to curl up in my lap for a good long while, happy to just sit quietly and snuggle up. I enjoy those moments, and hope that you feel surrounded by love always. I know I often get impatient, and when I apologize you're so quick to forgive me. Thank you. You humble me with so much grace, and I want to be more like that.

   You have a very silly side, and it's hard to get a picture of you looking "normal". You like to ham it up for the camera, and can be pretty wild and crazy sometimes! You're pretty wild, and fearless about most things. I'm excited for all the adventures we'll have together.

   I love you, my Poppy Joy flower! I'm so glad I get to be your mama, get to grow and experience this life with you. Here's to another year, to a girl who's well on her way to seven!

   Love,
   Mama

The First and the Fourth

2011-07-04T22:50:00.000-07:00

It's been a lovely holiday weekend. We kicked it off with Canada Day on the 1st. I grew up there, and we just finalized our kids' Canadian citizenship, so we had a special dessert on Friday to celebrate. Erik had a four day weekend, and in spite of being on call, didn't have to go in at all. Today we had some good friends over, and enjoyed a day of sunshine, good food, great conversation, fun, and a healthy dose of craziness. (What do you expect with nine kids?) Here are a few pictures from our fun weekend.

The kids staged their own parade in our cul-de-sac. That's Peregrine leading the way,
Poppy in the middle, and Raphael in the lower left- marching to the beat of his own drum.
Which is very much his style.

I was just going to serve the kids some vanilla pudding with berries on top.
Peregrine went all Martha Stewart on me and decided to decorate it.
Where on earth does he get that from? (Along with his flag drawing and "tricorn" hat.)

Is it just me, or did sparklers get way more lame this year?
In spite of that, Poppy was mesmerized.

We stood out in our cul-de-sac for about a half hour, enjoying the neighborhood fireworks all around. The kids were thrilled, and pretty certain the police would be arresting people left and right, since these are all illegal in our (free) state. Peregrine was whooping and hollering and generally in a state
of ecstasy. Some of my favorite quotes from him:

“I don’t know where to look!”

"It's as bright as day in our cul-de-sac!"

“I love fireworks so much I’m beating my chest!” (He’s obviously not a nursing mother.)

“This proves that I love fireworks: I have sparks in my eyes!”

Peregrine is an intense kid, who, on a scale of 1-10, lives life between 8 and 11. He

experiences everything intensely, and life with him is a bit

of a roller coaster. This was a night of intense joy. I could use more of these.

Canada Day dessert - almond flour cookies with maple cashew
cream and strawberry maple leaves. Happy little canucks!
(And I like how Raphael looks like he's about to smash his cookie
into something. Typical Raphi.)

Little Canadian!

To all my friends, American, Canadian, and everyone else, I hope you had a great weekend with much to be thankful for!

There Was a Woman Who Lived in a Purse

2011-07-01T11:16:00.000-07:00

I couldn't find a picture of our current home; this was our last one.
Evidently I had time to do yard work back then.

Have you ever noticed that no matter how big a woman’s purse is, it seems to be full? And that she usually has to dig around a fair bit to find what she's looking for? (She probably just needs to buy a purse organizer. Of course there's a product for that. ) I’ve always been happy with a very small purse. When I have a baby I carry a small diaper bag instead, and then graduate to my Sherpani bag, which is still big enough to carry a diaper and more. I personally have no desire to carry a bag the size of a small suitcase! But I digress; this isn’t actually a post about the size of a woman’s purse.

Ten years ago, I'd just gotten back from nine months traveling around Thailand, India, and Nepal. I loved the freedom of traveling with nothing but what fit in my backpack, knowing I had whatever I needed. I would sometimes think about the boxes of things I had at home, and realized there were only a few things in them that were truly important to me. Upon returning to the US I settled in with my parents, and within a few months was engaged. When Erik and I married the following winter, we moved into a small duplex. At that time, pretty much everything I owned could fit into my Toyota Corolla. After a year and a half, we’d added a little Peregrine baby to the mix, as well some more stuff. We soon found ourselves buying our first home, which was still relatively small, just under 1200 square feet. Fast forward two years, add a Poppy baby (and some more stuff), and we were on the move again. This time we filled up a decent sized moving truck and made several smaller trips before settling into our current home, which is just over 1400 square feet. We’ve now been here for six years, and have filled it up nicely, adding two more babies and a whole lot more stuff. This is where I'm reminded of the purse: no matter how big our home is, we seem to fill it up.

I've been thinking a lot lately about how much of this stuff is actually important to me, and the answer would be very little. Sure, a lot of it is useful, and makes our life more comfortable, but beyond that, it's been easy to collect a lot of it because it was a good deal, or I really liked it, or because I thought it might come in handy someday. In the last year I've been routinely going through rooms, shelves, and boxes, and getting rid of a lot of things that don't contribute to our family's purpose. It's a fantastic feeling to see boxes leaving the house, knowing that I'm freeing up not only space, but also the time it takes to organize, clean, and otherwise care for things I don't really need.

A while back Erik and I sat down and made a to-do list of sorts. One of my goals simply says "Reduce by Half". I don't actually have a way to quantify at what point I'll have gotten rid of half our stuff, but I'm beginning to start to feel a difference. Amazingly, the kids have hardly noticed that a lot of books have disappeared off the shelves, or that there are fewer toys in their rooms. Peregrine has really embraced this; he jumped right in and helped get rid of many things he's been holding on to in his room. I was so proud of him, not only being willing to part with pictures he'd drawn, junky toys, clothing, and crafts he'd made, but to watch him discover the joy of having less. I've been getting rid of homeschool curriculum that I might use some day, and clothes I haven't fit in for years. (Insert sigh of resignation here.) There are open spaces on bookshelves that used to be stuffed. There are empty hangers, and plenty of them, in closets where space used to be at a premium.

Is the end goal of all this purging simply to have a cleaner, simpler home? No, although I certainly think that's a good thing to work towards. But we have something different in mind, a new way of life altogether. It's really not about the size of my purse or my home, but of embracing a new way of looking at life outside the confines of these spaces, of living in harmony with our purpose, of pursuing the dreams that are in our hearts. We're excited about what the future holds, and slowly taking steps toward making it a reality. Living with less is just one step in the journey.

"Magic Shell" Ice Cream Topping

2011-06-30T16:12:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine recently mentioned that her husband has been making a homemade, healthier version of Magic Shell ice cream topping. As they say on the Smucker's website, "This topping magically freezes in seconds on your ice cream to create a candy-coated topping that can be broken and mixed right in with the ice cream." The other day I found a recipe online and made a batch to share with some friends. It was a hit all around, and has no mystery ingredients. It's also super easy to make, can be made low sugar (depending on what kind of chocolate you use, and is vegan. I changed the recipe slightly, and share it here for your eating pleasure (and at the insistence of my facebook friends!)

Magic Chocolate Ice Cream Topping

1/2 C Coconut Oil*

12 oz. Chocolate Chips (about 1 1/2 C)**

1/2 t Vanilla

Melt Coconut Oil and Chocolate in a pan over low heat. Add Vanilla, and stir to combine. Cool to room temperature before drizzling over your ice cream and enjoying the magic!

Store in a jar at room temperature. If it gets too hard, microwave or warm the jar in some hot water to bring it back to a liquid state.

*If you don't like the taste of coconut, it's okay to use refined coconut oil.

**You can use whatever chocolate you like best, dark or milk. I used about 70% cocao, as I prefer a bittersweet chocolate to balance the sweetness of the ice cream.

I think this would also make a great alternate coating for one of our favorite frozen banana treats, PopperBanas!