Live Free

the beat goes on.

 

I started to write this post on Saturday morning when Byron and Bea were out having breakfast with his parents and I had a couple of hours alone to indulge by myself. During those couple of hours, I mopped and swept the floor. Yes, that's intirely typical of me. Then, my mom called and put me on speaker phone with my grandmother and I heard grandma's voice over the phone. It's been four years since the last time we spoke. Her simple one word responses to my questions were magic. A second chance. A resurrection. I thought those moments were gone forever. 

Next, I wrote a letter to Bea's birthmother and included recent photos and tidbits describing this wonderful being that connects us to each other. 

The beat goes on.

Inside my grandmother's mind exists a whole lifetime of memories...family, friends, vacations, inside jokes, scents, seasons, meals, laughter, hard work, sorrow, disappointment, reflection, youth, pets, small moments, tickle spots, coffee, phone calls...

I know bits and pieces but we can never know the whole.

In one hand I hold hers and in the other hand I hold my daughter's. She who has almost an entire lifetime ahead of her. With memories so few in comparison...What moments will her memory fill up with?

During those couple of hours alone, I was overwhelmed with deep love for my story. Which is my grandmother's story. Which is my mother's story. Which is my daughter's story and her birthmother's story. 

An invisible thread binds our hearts together. 

I thought about the suffering we have all experienced in one manner or another. And our choices to love because it's the only true path to travel. Patched, bruised, broken, healed...beauty rests in us all. 

The beat goes on. 

I spent the rest of the weekend living lightly and enjoying the blissful fall weather that graced our parts just in time for my birthday. I always think to myself that one of the greatest gifts my mother has bestowed upon me was birthing me on October 6. Hardly a year goes by without the much anticipated and welcomed cool front that manages to blow through just in time...

It was a beautiful weekend. My in-laws had a sleep over with Bea at their hotel room so Byron and I got to have a date night AND a next morning sleep in! I finally felt inspired to do some yard work and gardening. We are still what I would consider a hardscrabble mini-homestead, but we are trying nonetheless. 

This morning, Bea and I scurried out the door as fast as we could go to enjoy every second of the brisk weather. We ended up walking down to the river and spending the entire morning at our little small town swimming hole.

We did nothing. Tossed pebbles into the water. Gathered leaves and wildflowers. Listened to the sounds. She climbed up and down the limestone bank. Stripped herself of her layers. Dipped her toes and her hands.

Created a scoop from a piece of litter. Fed her stick pony. Watered her stick pony. I sat and watched and regretted not having a book. I passed my time by taking plenty of pictures. And I also reminded myself to do nothing. To just be in the moment. With her. She played and played for hours with nothing but the elements.

On our way home we treked through a patch of woods that run parallel with the hike and bike trail. She perched herself atop a boulder and looked down upon her surroundings.

She delighted in carrying pieces of litter to the trash can in the distance all by herself. She loves little doses of independence which require her to venture off all by herself. It was a perfect little morning void of conflicts and struggles. It was just the two of us at peace and together. I hope when I'm my grandmother's age, this morning exists somewhere in my memory. 

And that was my 36th birthday weekend wrap up!! 

Our Christmas

Christmas was so special this year ~ so much so, that I really have few words to share about it. Byron and I felt that Beatrix really hit that time frame in her life where the season really resonates to her with so much magic and wonder. She believes with her entire heart and soul. And more than her excitement over the gifts she receives, she absolutely comes alive in the togetherness of it all. Her spirit is such a gift to all of us.

On Christmas morning, after she unwrapped a few gifts from her nana and papa, out of the blue, at a point where there was a lull in conversation, she says, "Christmas is the best time of the year." We all smiled. But really, what happend was we all took a mental snapshot of her in that moment to tuck away into our hearts. 

  

our shortest day

Our day started with french toast and was followed by a lingering, slow morning complete with extended hours of jammie-wear. 

As late morning wore on, the sun shone bright in our kitchen, the need to enjoy this beautiful, short day became emminent. We packed our basket with a few essentials (and maybe a non-essential or two) and headed out to Berry Springs to enjoy the remaining divine hours of sun surrounded by acres and acres of quiet nature, good friends, and happy children.

I could not have thought of a more appropriate or relaxing way to spend our shortest day. Our kids spent their day emmersed in fresh air amidst the big Texas sky and climbed, chased, searched, laughed, splashed, and collected for hours upon hours. 

I needed a day like that -- a day overflowing with glee and innocence and simplicity...my girl and her little friends discovering the streams of fresh spring water, toes emmerged, pants pulled up, hands digging, sun beaming, breeze blowing through their beautiful halos of hair...

 

 

 

 

 

"I," said the donkey, shaggy and brown.

At the beginning of the Christmas season, I was feeling a bit flustered and uninspired about the big ole month ahead. It was 84 degrees, for goodness sake. Too hot for hot cocoa, or fudge-making, or snuggling under blankets. I felt confused and frustrated that our days weren't rolling along like last years - gray, wet, and cold. Ah...what a perfect first winter we had in our new home. 

Still, we bought a tree, put on a Bing Crosby LP, decorated it, all while sweating and giving in to using the AC, then called it a day. The thing is, no matter what sort of upside-down weather global warming throws in our direction, little people know none of the cynical attitudes. What is here is what matters and it is exactly as it should be. The act of having a tree, sparkling with lights; the fact that we end our days in candlelight because the daylight hours continue to shrink; the joy we feel reading story after story of a man and woman searching for place to sleep on a cold winter's night; and the miracle of a babe being born in a stable is really all it takes for a child. 

Beatrix told me a few mornings ago as we were watching the sunrise above the trees across the street from us, "Mama, it's another beautiful Christmas day." Indeed, it was another beautiful day. We were together. The sky was transforming right before our eyes from the deep ingigo hues to the early morning shades of lavender and pink. The season was upon us. There was love and peace in the space between us.

Thankfully, she is still at an age, where every gift could be by-passed without a wince and these days would still be overflowing with that magical "something" . Magic is in the moments and the intentions of our actions. Magic is in the golden light of the early evening sun. Magic is in the believing and magic is in the clear winter night sky displaying a thousand stars. It's forever in this ordinary life, unfolding one day after another.

A few years ago, I discovered the Christmas carol, "The Friendly Beasts" which quickly became one of my favorite songs ever! I fell in love with this song during Beatrix's first Christmas. She was 8 or 9 months or so and in that perfect baby stage - interactive and busy during her waking hours, yoddling and waving, continuously collecting dust bunnies as she crawled into every nook and corner. She was compact and solid and every bit still a babe. I remember there being many long afternoon naps and cloudy, gray skies. And I remember playing "The Friendly Beast" song over and over. After waiting for so long to become a mama, I had this feeling, that in my arms, in our home, Byron and I received our own special miracle. Truly, when Beatrix came home with us, it was as if the angels were singing and the world was rejoicing. There was a feeling of trying hold on to it all coupled with the bittersweetness of the fleeting time. It was the dearest of all Christmases up until that point.

A few years later, we still rejoice in our little miracle child. She no longer snoozes peacifully on wintery afternoons. However, she sings herself to sleep at night. There has been a time or two in the days just passed, when, in the evening hours, as I am cleaning up the kitchen one last time for the day, my mama heart melts into a puddle right there between the sink and the refrigerator. Streaming from her bedroom, down through the hallway to where I stand, I hear the lyrics of "The Friendly Beasts" being sung by a dear little one, snuggled under the blankets of her bed.

    "I," said the donkey, shaggy and brown, "I carried your mother up hill and down. I carried your mother to Bethlehem town. I," said the donkey, shaggy and brown.

It's these small and almost indescribeable moments that I want to tuck away in my heart. Those are the ones that define this magical time of the year and make me overwhelmingly proud and content for the life I get to live. 

Notes on the first week of spring.

Hello! It's been a few days since I've spent a measurable amount of time at the computer. The weather just calls to me to come on out and play.

A strong thunderstorm passed through our parts a few days ago. We received a huge soaking. Plant life was already growing and blooming like crazy and well now, it's just beyond description. What a difference a year can make? The 50 year drought that we experienced last year definitely helps one to appreciate the beauty of abundance that we are blessed to have these days.

I'm such a spring/bloom geek. I love waking up and discovering what else is new out there. A new bud, a new blossom, a new egg, or maybe a set of secondary leaves, oh, I do love this time of year!  

First week of spring tidbits:

• One of our younger hens began laying eggs on St. Patrick's Day (also Bea's birthday). Her egg is petite and the perfect shade of robin's egg blue. Will I ever tire of checking for eggs every afternoon? I think not. 
• When we moved here six months ago, our ground was barren dirt. Now it entirely green except for a few small troubled spots. 
• This fall, Beatrix and I planted iris bulbs around a tree in our front yard. I came home from school today, to find one that is completely blooming and the others are so close to opening up too! 
• I've got onions, potatoes, peppers, and tomatoes already planted in the garden. I still have a few varieties of peppers and tomato seedlings growing in our utility room. I hope to add them into the garden once they are ready to transfer. 
• I've planted some herbs and perrenials in my garden bed alongside the front of our house. I am especially excited for my tiny 4" lavendar girls to spread their roots and flourish. 
• Sunflowers and zinnia seeds have been planted and should soon begin sprouting. 
• I've seeded our front and backyard with native grasses. I hope it "takes". Wild meadow ~ I so much desire you!
• And last but not least, it's porch season! No mosquitoes yet! 

No photos of plant life in the yard yet, but I do have this little snapshot of dinnertime a few nights ago. It was Bea and I sharing a simple meal of beans and rice. The spring evening sunlight was offering such a lovely soft glow to the dinner table. The windows were up, a breeze was blowing in. She chatted between bites. I listened both to her and to the sounds of our utensils clanking to the bowls. I couldn't help but feel at peace with that moment. 

Oh, and of course, one of the new eggs!

One more -- morning light shining on Bea's kitchen. 

 

Birthday Weekend

I have to say, I think my mom gave birth to me during the very best week of the year. Good things always happen somewhere around the first week of October.  When I was younger, we could count on the first true cold front to sweep through the South - the one that actually lowers the daytime temperatures to sweater wearing degrees. These first cold fronts also gave way to the first gumbos of the season which are a true and profound welcome to any good Cajun's soul. Fall never feels more present to me than at the whiff of a home saturated in the aroma of gumbo cooking on the stovetop. It's easy to "celebrate" my birthday because life is usually so good anyways at this time of the year. I just feel extra blessed that I was born right on the front steps of autumn. Thanks Mom. You're awesome.   

Right in time for my birthday we enjoyed: 

The little one's insistence on a purple (pink) cupcake for her mama's birthday. 

Our first opportunity to dine at this wonderful farm-to-table restaurant which is walking distance to our new home. Good burgers and even better sweet potato fries.  

A bike ride to a really sweet pumpkin patch.  

An evening with good friends under the wide open, big Texas sky. 

Watching my girl have a ball playing with her friend in the cow pasture.  

And lastly, a drenching start to our Sunday morning. It was perfection. Wet, soaking, glorious rain. Nearly three inches of it. 

See, good things happen at the beginning of October!!  

 

our last night

Today, after leaving The Natural Child, Bea and I had quite a rare errand to complete with Byron. We travelled out of Austin to a quaint small town, signed our names about 1000 times, after which we were handed two sets of keys to our new home. Yay! 

Tonight is the last night we will sleep in our little cottage that has been our home for nearly two years. Much love and growth has filled these walls in that small amount of time. From first steps to first sentences and everything in between. From flour imprinted toddler foot prints in the kitchen to our season of chicken coop building. There is so much in so little. I am forever grateful for the memories. 

Tomorrow, on the first day of Autumn, a new season begins for this little family. We will begin the process of moving into what feels like a dream (at least to me) home. A home filled with giant, old windows and wood floors in a historic community with a town square equipped with antique shops, a used bookstore, and coffee shops. 

What did I do to deserve such a life?

Right now, I'm feeling giddy and pooped. I'm also counting my blessings and so very ready for a new day. 

 

Um, hi.

Well, August sure is rolling by quickly. What a month! I've been busy, busy doing all sorts of un-housewifey things like putting on my teacher/small business owner hat on and getting the school ready for the new year. That has meant hours of planning songs, seasonal crafts, gardening projects, etc. along with painting a new space for the school, decorating this new space, getting all my ducks in a row for the business side of the school (new hire, insurance, inspections, blah, blah, blah...). 

Poor Bea, has been under my wing throughout this whole painful transitional period. There has been a whole lot of juggling between being teacher, business owner, mama, wife, etc. Trust me, we've had some moments that have not been pretty. Turns out, neither she nor I are good at transitions. I think she is a little nervous about the new school year. She knows that there will be new children. Some of her dear friends are moving on to kindergarten. And I'm sure it's all unsettling to her.  This change.  

Sometimes I doubt whether I'm being the best mama to her - putting her in a situation where she has to share me with others. And right now it all feels huge and sort of scary - to both of us. Then I remember how much fun she has forming friendships and playing with the other children, doing her work, and being with her mama.  For the most part, she does tremendously well. But there are days...that are more difficult for her. Such is life, I suppose.  She'd have bad days no matter the situation. Life isn't perfect. 

Anyhoo, that is more than I thought I was going to share about THAT!  

We're STILL spending a lot of time indoors. Which is not helping our coping skills in dealing with the challenges of the unknown. We continue to have triple digit temperatures. Tomorrow we will break a new record: 70 days of triple digit heat.  The most ever. And no end in sight.  Ugh... 

Two words: dust bowl. 

The worse part of all of this is that we have still received no rain.  Not a drop. Scary. I've never lived through such a tremendous dry spell. What a slow motion natural disaster this has been. We have no idea when it will be over. 

We are down to four chickens. Two have died recently, we presume, from heat exhaustion. 

This post is turning into a real downer, very quickly, so I'll stop typing and just post some pretty pictures. 

This photo reminds me so much of the coming of fall. Except that I know when I took this photo it did not feel like fall. Still, the sun does not lie. A new season is ahead somewhere in the future.

Don't worry, I'm fast becoming the water nazi around here. I let her play in the sprinkler for about 15 minutes. She was not happy about the short time limit. Water is king these days. 

The water from the pool gets recycled to the trees or to small buckets that the birds and squirrels can drink out of. I'm seriously contemplating siphoning bath and dish water. Anyone with experience??  

Despite the news above, not all is doom and gloom here. There's a sunny side too. I promise to be more upbeat the next time you see me here. But for now, you just have to know...it's been one of those days, eh weeks, eh months...

all dressed up.

First the thunder roared in the distance. 

When we noticed the living room darkening in the afternoon hours, the curtains and blinds were lifted to find what we hoped would be our truth. 

Dark clouds rolled over our sky. At the least, their heavy grandness provided temporary relief from the sun's harsh rays that we have come to expect. 

The door was opened and we watched and waited. As if it were the first snowfall of the season. With hope circulating through every cell of our beings. We couldn't help but smile and laugh. And scurry off to the bedroom to become fully prepaired. 

She insisted on wearing her rain jacket and boots. 

While we pleaded for a downpour,

we only received a sprinkle.  

We still took a walk though we were overly dressed (and sweltering) for the occassion.  Indeed, we were all dressed up and no puddles to splash in.  

Maybe next time. There will be a next time. Those clouds will open up for us one day. 

So far, this summer, we've had 35 days of 100+ degree temperatures. And only a few inches of rain for the entire year.  This year is on it's way to breaking all heat and drought records for our area. 

i put up something!

It wasn't on my list of Monday chores, but with strawberries on sale for a rock bottom price yesterday, I decided to give it a go. After all, fresh food doesn't wait to be preserved. I felt sort of like a cheater because no, I didn't put up my own berries, or local berries, or even organic berries.  Oh, the horror.  I just bought the conventional ones...  They were such a bargain at $.92 a pound. Perfect for learning on, don't you think?  

The cashier knew what I was up to, for I had lemon juice, fresh canning jar lids, and pounds and pounds of strawberries! "You doing some canning today?" she asked.  "Yep." I declared.  "Oh, that reminds me of my childhood..." she reminisced.  "I use to make myself sick eating so many strawberries from our patch in the backyard."

Aw...I love little exchanges like that in the check out line, don't you?

I tried to follow the recipe from Canning and Preserving to a tee as much is possible with a little one helping. What a silly idea that was!

Still, I think I lucked up. The water boiled. The jars did not crack.

The strawberries boiled down. I poured the mixture into jars without too much mess. I got them back into the pot and boiled them for 10 minutes. I let them rest for five minutes and then I took all the jars out and let them set there on the hoosier to cool.  The lids did not bop back up when I pressed down on them and I even took the rings off and lifted the jars by the seals. The jar held tight!!  Alleluia!  I was very proud of my kitchen work yesterday. It was a total mess, but by the end of the day I went to bed with two fresh loaves of bread baked and several jars of strawberry jam sitting pretty on the countertop.

Throughout the whole day, I just kept thinking of the illustration at the very front of the book of Blueberries for Sal. That's sort of what my day looked like except, of course, without the crazy, gorgeous wood stove. 

Yesterday felt so old school summery and I loved it!