bits of sunshine

taste of summer

let me tell you about this summer
or maybe i want to tell myself so that i don't forget
some of what has been encompassed
in this summer of change
in this summer of settling
in this summer of growing

these words .:: change, settling, growing ::.  are definitely the framework for this summer

change: ben applied and was selected for a new position in june.  he is now a station manager, a fire operations supervisor.  he is based an hour from home - not two and a half or almost three.  maddie and isaac both had jobs this summer.  regularly scheduled jobs.  they also both have a favorite person to work out relating to and spending time with.  they are fourteen-and-a-half and almost-sixteen and will both be in high school this fall.  oh wow.  oh wow. 

{side trail.  when you have babies and toddlers, everyone tells you how fast your time with your kids goes/will go.  you vaguely believe them because you remember growing up and it doesn't seem like you lived with your mom and dad all that long - especially the older you get.  the older you get, the less of your life you spent under your parents' roof, so you kind of get what they are all saying.  but this.  this right here.  getting one set for ninth grade and one for tenth.  this makes it feel like it is all going fast.  really fast.  these tall, beautiful, wonderful people who hug me and make me feel small, who i love to talk with and listen to and laugh with.  there are all the ways they are growing and changing and becoming.   the having to say freshman and sophomore.  goodness, this all makes me feel the fastness, the speed, makes me believe them - the ones who say the things about time going fast.  it goes really fast.}

also - dramatic change for me - this is the first summer ever, in my whole life, that i have had an eight to five, monday through friday job.  while i appreciate the steadiness, the salary, the permanence, this is a strange, new situation for me, and i am learning how to function without a fluctuating schedule and without working on an as-needed basis.  my schedule doesn't vary from week to week.  i am not waiting for a phone call to know if i am needed for work the next day.  in some ways, i miss being the fill-in, the save-the-day, but in a lot of ways, i am also so very grateful that my position won't change this fall or this winter or in the spring.  i get to continue settling.

settling:  we are doing a lot of settling.  even with all the changing.  i have been repainting some rooms in our house, and touching up other worn places on the walls.  we got a few pieces of furniture and some rugs to make the kids' rooms even more comfortable.  a new mattress for isaac will really make his room feel complete.  we have slowly picked away at finding furniture that fits in each room of our house.  the guest room is very cozy and comfortable.  we have had many, many guests stay with us on their way through from east to west or west to east.  i love that we have a place to offer, a comfortable bed, a place to relax and have a meal.  this winter, ben built in a tv and game shelf in the den and we found a great sectional for that space.  i just ordered a new table and chairs for the kitchen that should work well and replace the hodgepodge we have going on in the corner of the kitchen right now.  on saturday, ben and i made a run for a craigs-list couch, and it was just exactly the right one for our living room.  i need to paint the stairwell, and then, the only painting left to do is the outside of the house.  we have a few more ideas for projects we would like to keep picking away at as we continue to settle into our house. 

we are settling with people.  we each have some good friends, people that we have connected with.  maddie and isaac have found their sports and activities, their youth group and their bible study group.  we are figuring out how we do life with the nature of ben's job, and as he settles into this new position, we will get to the point where we know what to expect more often than not.  that will be a wonderful settled feeling.  and we are all in positions where we are thriving and growing.   

growing: mainly isaac.  he's taller than me now and definitely not slowing down.  maddie has been taller than me for about two years now.  and she has been growing her hair longer again.  we have all grown our knowledge base in our jobs and with books we have read and studies we are doing this summer. 

then there are the hollyhocks.  hollyhocks between the sketchy neighbors' house and ours.  hollyhocks that are red and white and peach and magenta and pink.  hollyhocks that grew taller than the house, that filled in the view for these summer months.  hollyhocks that i hope will grow again next summer.  and we should be here to see them.  because we are settling.  staying.  doing our changing in this place. 

 

gratitude feels like sunshine

it is monday morning, just an hour till lunchtime, and i am sitting in a high school classroom.  i was grateful to find a whole wall of windows - outside of which the wind is trying to tear the last leaves off the cottonwood branches and fling them into the cold, grey sky.

i am hoping that november beats october's count on sunshine-y days - october began with a string of cloudy days, then allowed us fourteen sunny days in a row, before the clouds rolled in again and have stayed into this fifth day of november.  

my kids sometimes tease me about wanting {needing} sunny days - but i ache when i am not warm, and nothing warms me like the sun on my face, on my shoulders, on my jacket, through my windows.  nothing else eases the ache in my bones quite like the sun.  blankets and coffee, a soft sweater and the heat turned up help, but don't soak in and ease the ache they same way as sunshine.  

i am following along with michelle's gratitude week - for the fourth year in a row!  today, her prompt asked can you feel gratitude in your body?  where does it rest?  i am here, slightly chilled, my fingers working through their coolness to type these words.  and i am certain that gratitude feels like sunshine.  if i think about what i am most grateful for, it is almost like sitting in the sun.  the practice of gratitude reminds me to slow my thoughts, to take deep breaths, to relax my shoulders, to unclench my jaw, to smile.  the sun does the same.  

on aging

seems like every year, the week or so before my birthday, i find myself in a reflective mood.  so, here are some of my it's-almost-my-birthday thoughts.  also, my isaac-boy thinks it's pretty funny to remind me that i am almost 40.  and both maddie and isaac go back and forth between laughing about that ben and i are getting "old" and laughing about that ben and i don't act old at all.  last night, isaac told me that i won't be old until i break a hip or something, because that happens to old people.  so - hopefully, if that's the aging standard, i never grow old!

often, i don't feel my age.  what is 38 (on thursday) heading toward 40 anyway?  

some time ago, one night when i curled up in bed, on my side, legs tucked up, back pressed against ben, like usual, i looked up, out our window at all the stars shining so brightly, so beautifully in the dark sky.  i found orion's belt, in the south eastern sky, and thought how i like sleeping under the pathway that orion, the strong warrior, takes through the night.  

i also felt distinctly like a little kid.  

but i am married; i have been for more than 16 years.  and i have a 14-year-old daughter and a 13-year-old son.  how is this possible?  how am i old enough for all of this?

i rested there.  and felt all sorts of silly and strange and happy and thoughtful.  

i still sit on the ground and the floor like a little kid.  now though, if i sit too long, my legs start to go a little tingly.  

i love to ride my bike.  and i love to jump into a lake - make a big splash.  but it takes a lot more encouraging myself to take that leap.  once i've done it, though, i'll jump over and over again.  i love to grab a sled, make a run for it, and go flying down a snow-covered hill. 

i am a funny juxtaposition of young and old, of skip across a parking lot and find all of the goodness in an old hymn, of hunker down with a children's book and read aloud with all the voices and pull an ancient text off the shelf and savor all of the rich old words.

there was a period in my life when i felt old.  much older than my calendar age.  there was lots of life and living, good and hard, beautiful and lonely, times that stretched me, times that i grew through rather than allowing myself to give up.  ben and i married at twenty-one.  lots of people told us that was too young.  we had babies at twenty-three and twenty-five.  working different jobs and moving through different living situations and making business decisions and navigating family relationships and schooling for ourselves and our children and parenting and being a spouse and finding time to play and time to rest and growing and facilitating counseling and leading small groups and all of the pieces of living, well, in some ways, we crammed may years worth of living into just a few short ones.  and in some ways, all of this living aged me, aged my spirit, aged my soul. there is a timbre and a quality to life, though, that comes from circumstances walked through and mercy received and sacrifice made gracefully. 

there is a softness to skin that is slightly wrinkled, that has had to give way for babies to grow, that is feeling the effects of 38 years worth of gravity, that has soaked up sun and fought off chill, that has been shared in the grasping of a hand, in the hugging of a friend, in the comforting of an infant, in the caressing of another, in the loving of a spouse.  some of the skin has been cut or scraped, left ragged or stitched up.  all of the skin tells story, speaks life.

there is a twinkle in the eye that has learned how to look, what to see, what to enjoy, what to be grateful for.

there is peace in a heart that has learned what to hang onto, what to ponder, what to forgive and grasp lightly.  {i don't believe that painful things really can be or should be forgotten, but there can be peace and rest in knowing that what another meant for harm or selfishness, for hurt and shame, God wants to use all of that for good; those circumstances can create depth of character and can quietly offer healing to many souls.}

there is something pretty wonderful about having a spouse and kids and friends and parents who have grown to know me well, who know just what word or bit of snail mail or gift or outing or adventure or peaceful moment will make my heart overflow.  and something wonderful about knowing them, too, and knowing all these ways to bring them joy.

i am much closer to 40 than to 30 now.  and really, that is fine and good.  i am grateful that i {mostly} feel young.  i will not mind the silver hair that is bound to come {my mom has beautiful silver-white hair, and, with joy, i'm finding a few of these hairs sprinkled throughout my pixie-cut}; i will not mind the wrinkles and the changes; i am finding the good in the lessons i've learned, the experiences i have had and continue to live, the time to love and be loved, the time to find the good and count gratitudes and share bit of sunshine, the chances to bear witness and speak blessing, embracing this life i have been given.

i am so grateful for you, friends. may our years be filled with joy-experiencing and joy-sharing, so that no matter the number of our days, each one will be filled to overflowing with good. 

and may we all go gently, love fiercely, and be wonderful.  

xoxo, e

p.s. some links i've saved for reading and watching that you may enjoy, too :: 

what 36 looks like

famous women talk about aging

some of the most beautiful ladies talk about just being

lovely, fun, quirky, amazing 100-year-old women talk about beauty, style, love, loving what you do, happiness, and being best friends,

 

 

gold to give away

today was heavy and grey and cold 
{the kind of cold that chills my bones and makes my fingers ache}

it seemed like the right kind of day to look back at pictures
from a day that was warm 
{the kind of warm that soaks into my bones} 
and to read a poem by mary oliver :: goldenrod
{that could be about sunflowers and sage that i walked through in the warm sunshine}

on roadsides,
    in the fall fields,
        in rumpy bunches,
            saffron and orange and pale gold,

in little towers,
    soft as mash,
        sneeze-bringers and seed-bearers,
            full of bees and yellow beads and perfect flowerlets 

and orange butterflies. 
    i don't suppose much notice comes of it, except for honey,
        and how it heartens the heart with its 

blank blaze. 
    i don't suppose anything loves it except, perhaps,
        the rocky voids
            filled by its dumb dazzle. 

for myself,
    i was just passing by, when the wind flared
        and the blossoms rustled,
            and the glittering pandemonium

leaned on me. 
    i was just minding my own business
        when i found myself on their straw hillsides,
            citron and butter-colored,

and was happy, and why not? 
    are not the difficult labors of our lives
        full of dark hours?
            and what has consciousness come to anyway, so far,

that is better than these light-filled bodies?
    all day
        on their airy backbones
            they toss in the wind,

they bend as though it was natural and godly to bend,
    they rise in a stiff sweetness,
        in the pure peace of giving
            one's gold away.

 

it seemed like the right kind of day to count gratitudes ::
sunflowers {even in pictures}
warm days {remembered}
a big field to go walking in {on any given day}
the smell of sage {freshly broken, or in the vase on my desk}
a savior who knows what it is like to be rejected by some {and loved by others}
friends who love my kids
people who are kind
coffee {a new roast, freshly brewed}
hot tea {for the drive home}
my husband
my daughter
my son
lunch at home with ben {earlier today}
our very comfortable home
happy mail {some for maddie, some for me, some for ben, and some for isaac}
mercy and grace {freely given}
that there will be a day with no more pain
light
peace
gold {in pictures and in words} to give away

nature poetry and practicing kindness

today was a beautiful, sunny, blue sky day.  the temperature was in the twenties.  but the sun was so warm.  so very warm. 

i read the summer day by mary oliver to the kids today.  yes. summer. 

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

then, for a writing / outdoor journal activity, i had the kids head outside with two thoughts in mind.  one instruction i gave was to look at details of something particular (patch of ground, stalk of a plant, trunk of a tree, etc) as though from an insect's point of view.  {this idea came from dawn's november .: fall outside :. e-course and went along so nicely with the reading of this poem.}  the other instruction was to think how to use their details and other noticings and knowledge they have about winter to write their own version of the summer day as the winter day.  we put on coats and boots and spent about half an hour outside, noticing and writing. 

we headed inside to finish our poetry with warmer fingers.  as they each finished their writing, they brought their journals to my desk, and i delved in to their words.  sheer beauty.  i was smiling as i read, and my eighth grader said, "you like to read our journals, don't you mrs. patten?"  yes.  yes i absolutely love to read their journals.  they each have their own wonderful style.  their own wild and precious brain.  each one is becoming more comfortable with writing and sketching expressions of their thoughts, of themselves.  and i get the joy and the blessing of seeing through these journal-framed windows into their souls.

these are wonderful.  isaac's looks like it is written in a foreign language - but i have learned how to decipher his dyslexic, left-handedness and he is getting better at writing and spelling coherently.  i loved what my fourth grader wrote from an insect's perspective.  my eighth grader did a beautiful job of making the mary oliver poem-as-template truly his own.  with the exception of one line, my daughter and i kept the same lines from mary oliver's original and changed the same lines.  i looked up at maddie and said, "we must be related" and we laughed. 

{check back tomorrow, if you'd like.  in the morning, at school, i will type check below; i did type out each of the kids' poems and add them here, so you can read them, too.  these words are worth sharing.} 

it never ceases to amaze me, how each one of them creates with words.  and, when i read their work aloud, they all praise each others' work.  i love to hear them encourage one another; i love to hear their practice of kindness.  and i love their words. 

.. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. 

isaac's (with the bird)

a winter day can be cold
a winter day can be warm
a gray jay flies overhead
it comes and eats from my hand
it hops toward me, it looks nervous
it flies away to the nearest tree
i wait patiently

my fourth grader's (top right)

i love being so small
in a big world.  crawling over
and up leaves climbing trees
to see the top of the
world.  in winter it looks
like i'm walking on glitter as the snow
glimmers beneath my feet
i love crawling
up trees in the
summer time

my eighth grader's (lower left)

who made the world
who made the goose, and the bison
who made the horse,
i mean the one who wears shoes and makes a squeak when the horse walks.
they trot so gracefully in the sparkly snow!
i don't know what to think.
but i do know horses are beautiful creatures
i do know how to pay attention
and how to run in the pasture with all the wind in my tail and mane.
which i love to do!
tell me how to do more.
because everything dies too fast and all will be over.
tell me how to plan for the rest of my wild and precisous,
miraculous lovely life

mine (lower middle)
(because the kids love when i do the same work they do, even multiplication speed tests - which i did on tuesday with them - oh boy!)

who made the world?
who made the eagle and the bison?
who made the fox?
this fox, i mean -
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is prancing across the open field,
who is moving quickly, then stopping, with head cocked to one side -
who is lstening and looking for a mouse.
now she sets her body, ears forward.
now she leaps into the air and lands face first into a mound of snow.
now she steps back, shakes her head free of snow crystals, mouse trapped in her jaws.
i don't know exactly what a prayer is.
i do know how to pay attention, how to kneel down into snow and matted grass,
how to be idle and thoughtful and blessed,
how to walk on, how to stop and observe.
i would love to do this all day.
tell me, what else should i do?
doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

maddie's (lower right)

who made the world?
who made the snake, and the badger?
who made the leaf?
this leaf, i mean -
the one who blew around and i caught in the air,
the one that is soft and brown,
who is wiggling in the breeze -
who fell but i caught again.
i grabbed it so hard it broke.
now it crumbles, and floats away.
i don't know exactly what a prayer is.
i know how to pay attention, how to fall down into the snow,
how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed,
how to stroll through the fields,
which is what i've been doing all day.
tell me, what else should i have done?
doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

a glimpse in a box

one day last week, there was a box outside my door when i ran home for lunch. i opened it just enough to see that it was packed full of goodness.  too much to enjoy in the few minutes i had right then.

for the rest of the afternoon at work, i knew that box was waiting for me.  when i returned home, i took it out in the sunshine and slowly worked my way through each wonderful bit. 

inside i found music and drawings and words and zippers and coloring and scents and more words and stories and thoughts and love. 

i sat and soaked the warm sunshine in through my skin and soaked all kinds of love and bits of my friend's life in through my eyes and my hands and my heart. 

i took one bit to work with me the next day.  good, good words - lettered and framed with love. 

be at peace once more, oh my soul
for the LORD has been good to you
for you, oh LORD, have delivered
my soul from death
my eyes from tears
my feet from stumbling
that i may walk in the land of the living
psalm 116:7-8

 

what a lovely gift.  a box filled with a glimpse of her life. 
a box filled with sunshine, ribbons, wrapping and joy. 
thank you, dear e.  thank you.

it's my birthday

i'm 35.  today.  and i like it.  i have had such a lovely day. 

   {a picture from a couple days ago - because i didn't get one with ben today}

  {isaac picked out the card with the dog pooping - inside it says something about the "simple pleasures"}

  {this is how maddie crushes chocolate cookies for birthday cake crust - with a rubber mallet}

  {that dessert is gluten-free chocolate cookie crust, a layer of almond vanilla "ice cream" and a layer of caramel, chocolate swirl coconut "ice cream" with strawberries on top - oh my, oh my, oh my}

the day started with a bike ride with ben and coffee and banana cookies in the park with some friends that we are doing pre-marriage counseling with (ben will officiate their wedding on march 28).

then there was brunch - eggs and bacon and sweet potatoes.

i didn't do any cooking or dishes all day.  so nice.

my sister called me - i love to chat with her.

isaac gave me an green floating lounge - now i am really looking forward to ice-out!

maddie gave me a mug with gnomes all around - what a happy way to drink coffee!

ben gave me a new, green bike - what a smooth ride!

my mom gave me some fun stationery and a fun bird tag - it will brighten my space at work.

so many dear peeps sent me facebook messages and texts - i am feeling very, very loved.

ben grilled burgers for supper, and he and maddie made me heavenly birthday cake. 

we spent hours and hours outside in the fresh, warm spring air. 

if i started counting blessings - just the ones in today - i would be sitting here till the wee hours of the morning and on into tomorrow.  tonight, i can't help but smile.

and, since i ended last year's birthday post with a comparison, i will end this year's with one, too.

last year, this was my birthday weather . . .   {you can see the snow and cold}

this year . . . .   {70 degrees F and mostly sunny - no snow at all}

 

nakd snail mail

look at all of this nakd-ness we received in the mail.  *smile* *wink*

seriously.  what fun.  and how tasty.  and exciting.  and good for us.  and easy to pack up and take along.  and filling.  and just plain good. 

may i recommend these to you?  you know.  if you need something to tide you over until suppertime.  or to slip in your pack for a mid-hike or mid-bike stop. 

or for mid-swim.  if you are headed somewhere warm.  or just dreaming of summer.  

we enjoyed a variety pack of nakd bars last summer.  so this box brought back some great memories.  i tucked them into the kids school bags for a pick-me-up to enjoy on the bus as they headed to their outdoor adventures at prairie wetlands learning center. 

i brought a couple with me to the office, and the taste reminded me of sunshine and fun.

and right now, the sampler case is only 9.99!  and shipping is free!  it's a perfect time to try these bars!  (i just ordered us some more!)  

each bar has 3-5 ingredients and about 10 grams of protein (this varies a bit with each flavor).  they are gluten, dairy, soy and gmo free and they are kosher and vegan.  i love the first four - all the "free" goodness.  

we are going to enjoy some more nakd eating.  and i'm going to keep these summertime memories close.  any bit of sunshine i can find - even if it's pictures from july.  july is on it's way around again.  it is.  

 
{i received one sampler box free from natural balance foods in exchange for writing this post about the nakd bars.  i will not receive any compensation if you buy bars.  but i know that we enjoy the bars, and i'm happy to share a great product with you, my friends.  eat nakd and be wonderful!} 

 

life in a state of wonder

live life
in a constant
state of wonder
every single day
despite
where you are

on sunday we had a wonderful place to be 
all four of us together
in the sunshine
in the sand
in the water
in the breeze
cottonwood leaves clicking
the splosh of the the waves
and the scent of cool water
sunfish glinting
air warm on skin
the scree of cicadas 
laughter and joy
 

we headed home satisfied with one more summer day well spent

live in wonder.  be wonderful.
love, ~e

the next best time

we find ourselves in a funny place, ben and i  
we are 34 and we are starting over 
in some ways, this should all be ten years ago 
24 would be a good time to start 
we are only ten years out, though, not twenty or thirty 
we aren't 44 or 54 and starting over

i am reminded of something i read 
the best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago 
the next best time is now

the best time to for ben to be really digging in to a career path
and for me to be finishing my BS and starting a masters program
was probably 14 years ago 
the next best time is now

so, now it is

ben is working so very hard at landing a new position 
a permanent, full-time position 
a position that will utilize and fine-tune all his many skills 
and also give him room to grow and and aquire new skills 
a position that will allow him to come home more nights during the summer

i am just about finished signing up for my last three classes 
well, not really the last 
but the last three i need to graduate from USD with a BS in English and an Ed minor 
this is so. very. exciting to me! 
and over the next four months, i will be pursuing a path for a masters program 
which i will start in january 

we are not sure where the next few months or year will find us living 
i made our garden ever-so-very-much prettier yesterday, so i guess it's about time to move 
i have a funny thing about making a garden that i love and then moving away from it 
this time, the majority of the garden is moveable

maybe i am learning a lot of things 
maybe, just maybe, now is the very best time