bits of sunshine

a simple letter

hello friends,

i started writing a post for instagram this morning, and i just kept writing, and it was too long for instagram, and i had more thoughts to process, so here.  here it comes.  in my letter to you.

this morning, i looked out my window at the moon and saw that jupiter and the moon had hung out together all night, jupiter up there, off to the moon's eleven o'clock.  

i thought about the beautiful {just-barely-waning} mostly-full moon as i showered this morning.  and at some point in those ten or so minutes, the positions of the moon and jupiter shifted, and i snapped a quick picture of the moon in my western sky with jupiter a bit farther away and to the moon's three o'clock.  i guess they are getting ready for wherever it is they both go for the day.  for daytime here, in this place that i inhabit.

yesterday evening, i watched the earth turn into the path of the moon, watched the moon rise with jupiter there, just above and to the left.  both so bright in the deep indigo of the night sky.  as i walked with ben and chaco, the earth continued its turn into the rising of the moon.  

i thought about the paths of the heavenly bodies.  i thought about where i see the moon and jupiter, about how we talk about moon-rise and sun-rise, moon-set and sunset, but really, our earth is turning as the sun stays in the spot it has held for always.  i thought about describing where i see the moon from my home here on the middle of north america in the northern hemisphere.  i tried to remember when i really started thinking about the earth turning vs. the sun moving, when i really made my brain think that the sun stays, we turn, and added to that the awareness that the moon is moving around the earth, and the stars that we see are visible differently through the changing of the seasons as the earth's tilt changes.  this exercise has changed my mindset in ways that i don't think i even fully understand.  

you, friends, were also on my mind.  i thought about how connections made through this blog and my flickr and instgram spaces have given me friends all around the world.  i have friends who are coming to the end of summer as i am coming to the end of winter.  i have friends who are already well into their thursdays while i am finishing up my wednesday.  i have friends who see the stars in a different part of their sky and even some stars that i don't see.

yet we are all on this one beautiful earth.  we are all under the same sky, the same moon, the same sun, though we see different moon rises, different sunsets, different paths of the stars.

and for the few people that i am blessed to know, that i am blessed to brush against, to share moments and words and images with, there are billions more people on this planet.  people who are made of the same dust and breath i am made of.  people who need kindness and love just as much, or even more, than i do.  people who live under the same beauty of sun, moon and stars.  

all of this gives me a broad and breathless perspective on my tiny place in this world; makes me know that i must spread kindness and goodness always, into all the sunlit and moonlit and starlit corners i am granted.  

spread kindness and goodness, my friends.  and enjoy the beauty of the turning of this terrestrial ball in the vastness of sparkling space.

with so much love, e

a simple letter

hello friends,

these two pictures speak of simple and slow, of deep breaths and wonderful aromas, of beauty and a full heart.

the top picture is from our saturday hike.  ben, isaac, chaco, and i were out in the long pines.  stepping on thick, springy duff, filling our nostrils with the faint bourbon-vanilla aroma of ponderosa pine, resting our eyes in the twilight that always lingers under tall evergreens, and being soothed by the sighing of wind through long needles. 

the second picture is from this evening.  today, there was a happy little envelope in the mail for me, and inside was this tea {red velvet cake}.  when i saw that it was all hearts {and it was from a dear friend}, i knew exactly which mug i needed to drink from: my heart mug {from another dear friend}.  and how fitting that i should have this vintage table runner gracing the table {from yet another dear friend}.  and, oh my, is that tea wonderful.  so flavorful.  so smooth.  i brewed two full cups from the one sachet and enjoyed them both so very much.

and while i was enjoying the tea, the friend who gave me the cup {years ago, now} randomly sent me a text with a happy memory in it.  we texted back and forth throughout the evening, just little bits of this and that.  i let her know that i was sipping from the mug, and we agreed that it's good to have little things that remind us of our dear people.  little bits of sunshine and happy memory. 

these simple, slow, beautiful moments: i will keep making time for them, for these sorts of moments are the ones that fill my heart and bring me rest.

intentional choices that add health and beauty will always constitute time well spent. 

i pray that you will find some simple, some slow, some beautiful moments in your days, my friends; that some may be of your own doing, and that, here and there, you may be surprised by simple beauty, as well.

go gently and be wonderful.
love, e

 

a simple letter

hello friends,

one evening, a few weeks ago, i was reading.  i was reading about mixing and kneading bread.  as i read, i could feel the bread dough under my fingers.  i could smell the warm yeasty aroma.  i could feel my arms work and my body lean into the counter.

it has been years since i have done this; almost six years since i have mixed up yeasty, gluten-filled, wheat bread dough and plunged my fist into the rising dough before turning it out onto the counter and kneading it till it felt just so. 

i was thinking about all the things we don't get to hold onto.

i set the book aside and climbed the stairs to tell my kids goodnight.

maddie is so tall - so long in her bed - all long legs and long arms and long hair.  i laid my head on her back and felt my eyes start to swim.  i had a cold, so my thick-sounding voice didn't make her ask if i was crying.  i cleared my throat and told her i love you.  and good night.

i went into isaac's room.  his feet were sticking out from under his blankets.  (the other morning i had thought, when i woke isaac up for school, that it is about time for new blankets.)  he asked if his blankets were crooked.  they were, but even after i straightened them out, they barely covered him from shoulder to toe.  it is time for a new mama-made quilt for that boy who is growing like a weed.  after kissing the top of his head and holding it together while i said i love you, i took myself into the bathroom, shut the door, sat down, and let myself cry.

i cried for how much they are changing.  i cried for joy at the goodness of our years together.  i cried for the goodness of where we are right now.  we are in such a good place right now.  i wouldn't trade where we are for kneading bread with zoe at my feet and having two kids who look tiny in their beds, but there are some beautiful and some heart-wrenching memories that live in my mind and my heart.

and the beauty of the right-now, of the everyday moments, is even more real because we have had to work so hard for and fight for the place we are; we have held on so tightly with ever fiber and muscle and last edge of a fingernail, that the peace and wonder of the here and now is something indescribable.  there is truly peace that passes all understanding.  and we are so very blessed to know the giver of peace.  we know peace himself.  he who gives joy and wonder in each of the real and raw moments of life.  he who put these two long-legged, growing, wonderful, funny, lovely people in my life for me to make blankets and bread for.  he who gives me joy as i stitch and cover and bake for them {and for their wonderful dad}. 

i pray, my friends, that you will know beauty and peace worth holding onto.  and that you will hold on to the moment-maker and the peace-giver with every fiber {and sometimes the very last fiber} of your being.

go fiercely and be wonderful.
with so much love, e

p.s.  there is a bread that i can make for us now.  it makes the kitchen smell wonderful.  and it makes toast and sandwiches that we all enjoy.  there is no kneading involved, but i can live with that.  find the recipe here.  and i don't even change anything!  

p.p.s. if you eat gluten and would like to know about some of my past bread baking, you can read about it here, here and here.  that last link is cinnamon date bread.  i need to figure out a way to do something like that gluten free.  that bread was to die for. 

p.p.p.s. happy saturday, friends!

a simple letter

hello friends,

here i am again.  yesterday i wrote to you from my desk at school.  this evening i am writing to you from my couch.  ben, chaco, and i are sitting together on one of our tiny, funny couches.  there is symphony music playing.  i can hear isaac sorting through legos upstairs (there is an x-wing fighter in progress).  i'm certain that maddie is in bed reading.  and outside, the wind is whipping.  30-50 mph with gusts up to 70.  it sounds like it's going to rip through our windows.   

while i'm on the subject of the weather, today was a beautiful, eclectic mix.  this morning was grey and heavy.  we were socked in by dark clouds.  but around 11:00, they broke up and by 2:00, it was perfectly clear and 64 degrees F.  we took our morning recess at 11:00, when the sky started to clear.  after lunch, nobody wanted to head back inside.  but in we went, and i had my three work really hard for an hour (it's amazing what the incentive of doing an outdoor journal page and then being allowed to play in the sunshine does for work ethic!), then we set up journal pages and headed out.  it was so warm.  and beautiful.  the kids and i all counted to five four times (see my journal page above) and made little lists and did some sketching.  there were birds chirping and singing. robins, even!  and i heard a fly buzz by.  i was in awe that this is a february day! 

after finishing their journal assignments, the two boys played catch until the end of the day.  maddie and i sat on the step and continued to sketch and drink in the sunshine.

at 3:30, maddie and i biked home, put our things away, grabbed the leash and the dog and headed out for a walk.  a good, long walk.  maddie was wearing sandals! 

once home, i prepared supper and some dessert.  which reminds me, i should not talk about tasty food and then skip sharing the recipe!  i had quite a few requests for the recipe for the cinnamon toast bars i wrote about yesterday.  i am going to amend yesterday's letter to include that recipe, so check the end of yesterday's post if you would like to make some cinnamon toast bars.  (you should.  they are so tasty!  and could be easily glutenized or veganized.)

in other news, ben is fire-ready.  and it is february 18.  and we live in western south dakota.  the packs are packed and ready.  he is back to work full-time.  the winter furlough is over already.  so. very. early.  we got such little moisture over the past months.  and with the warm temps and the wild winds, any little spark would run away into a very big fire crazy quick. so, as i type this, the smell of smoke is being stirred through the living room; ben is going through his fire pack once more.  reorganizing.  making certain he has what he wants and can foresee needing, things that are worth their weight in the pack he will carry 16+ hours a day whenever he is fighting fire. 

and i am working at being ready for him to be gone at a moment's notice. 

but for now, i'll stare at him, all goofy and in love.  and i'll crawl in with him tonight.  and enjoy the hours i get with him. 

so, my friends, i am signing off for tonight. 
go gently into your tomorrow and be wonderful. 
with love, e

 

a simple letter

hello friends,

i think that it is time for me to try a little something new.  even for just a few weeks.  i need to be in this space, but i haven't known how it fits me {or how i fit it} lately.  

sometimes i have a great idea for a blog post, and i take a whole bunch of pictures {or even just one}, and i have a grand plan {or a vague one} for how i want to write up a post . . . and then . . . then supper needs to be made, or a load of laundry needs to be done, or a day of teaching needs to be planned, or, well sometimes, i am just simply too tired to do much of anything.  and sometimes, what is flooding my mind and heart aren't thoughts that lend themselves well to a big fancy blog post, per se.  

there is a blog i follow, called .: hello there, friend :.  it is a collaboration by two lovelies who simply write each other a short note every day {or most days}.  i love to read their words, their thoughts, their musings to one another.  and i like the letter format.  

so, friends, i am going to write some letters.  here.  to you.  

not every day.  and maybe not always one following the other.  but as another option.  another template for thinking things through.  for sharing.  for writing.  

today i am tired.  but tired in a good way.  yesterday was packed full; the kind of packed full i love.  our school day went well.  and when i returned home, i set the table with some pretty things and started supper and brownies.  our company showed up as ben was prepping meat for the grill.  ben and davin have fought fire together and i met him some years ago, but neither of us had never met clara {she is lovely and kind and i enjoyed her comraderie immensely.}  our evening consisted of easy-going conversation, excellent food, dishes done together, a good brisk walk in the cool darkness, and more visiting interspersed with puppy snuggles.  i also found some minutes in which to mix up cinnamon toast bars, so that we would have a tasty treat for breakfast this morning.  i crawled in bed next to my husband smiling and ready to sleep.

this morning, we shared those cinnamon toast bars before i headed off to school.  ben got to stick around and see our friends off on the next leg of their journey.  {ah, road trips.  one of these days, we'll plan another one of those!}

late this morning, i savored some words from mary oliver's poetry while i drank my coffee and ate my brownie.  the kids were out for recess time, and i gave myself a few moments of feeling the heat of the sun through the window and feeding my mind with beautiful words.  

this afternoon, we went to the main county school and listened to an author talk about her book.  it's very interesting - the subject is, anyway.  i haven't read the book yet.  now i will.  i had her sign the book i bought, and while she was scratching away with my pen, i asked her if she is working on her next book.  no.  the right idea hasn't come to her yet.  she loves this story and its subject, but i don't know if she loves words.  and maybe one needs both of those loves to write and then keep writing; stories that take heart and love and investment, but also a love of words.  love creates craft . . . or crafts creativity . . . i think.

so, now, here i am, coming to the close of another day.  thinking about heading home and making supper.  thinking about lighting a candle and sharing food and words with my family.  and thinking that i have enjoyed writing this letter.  maybe i will write another tomorrow.

go gently and be wonderful, my friends.
love, e

p.s.  find the recipe for cinnamon toast bars here
this makes a huge pan! 
i used a different combination of flours each time, making sure i had at least one full cup of tapioca starch.  i also used a combination of almond and coconut milk.  in the bars, i only used 1 cup of unrefined sugar.  in the topping, i used 3/4 cup of butter and 3/4 cup of unrefined sugar.  i followed the mixing and baking instructions.  these are so. very. tasty!  and easy to make.  they are wonderful to bake of an evening and enjoy in the morning with a protein and some fruit.  happy baking, friends!