Live Free

Out and about

 It's been a wet and cold week here in Texas.  This past Friday, Bea and I went to town to run some errands and to have lunch with my husband. The temperature hovered right around freezing all day.  While in town, I asked Bea if she was up for a hike around Mayfield Park. It's one the first patches of woods we hiked regularly with her. I have vivid memories of her in my Moby wrap, and then my Beco, and then a wobbly toddler, to a preschooler, and now.  Wow...

As I was saying, I thought (hoped -- feeling lazy) she might say, "nah" to the suggestion for a walk in the woods, but she wanted to get out there and so we went. We had the entire place to ourselves. The trails start out at a historic farm house which has beautiful (dormant at this time of the year) gardens, live oaks, and a flock of peacocks. The male peacocks were quite stunning as we are approaching their mating season.  

We had a blast. Bea is so sturdy these days and eager for challenging climbs.  She likes to help me find my proper footing when climbing up rocky patches and to use my donkey knees when coming down hill.  It was the perfect little outing to stretch our legs and breathe in some much needed fresh air.  

 

weekend update...

 

 

 

 

 

I tried to focus on getting more nature into our days this week, since swim lessons are finally over and this leaves Tuesday and Thursdays afternoons free and clear.

It's really quite pathetic how little we've been walking or biking around town these days. There have been way too many short trips to the grocery store or Target in the truck. This is the time of year to live outdoors, to take long walks to the library and back, for impromptu front yard visits with neighbors, to routinely check on the status of leaves changing colors and such, to explore the streams and swimming holes that feed into the river. 

And here we are letting this precious time of year slip by. 

After lamenting to myself about the recent fast pace feeling to our days, I did manage to chuck the to-do list once this week, and venture out to the river with Bea. It was really quite a cold afternoon. We had a few below freezing nights earlier this week and that brisk, fresh air..well, it was just what we needed. 

Bea pretended she was a princess named Esther. She lived in cottage deep in the forest. She addressed me as "Mother" and she had me speaking to her using phrases like, "Ester, daughter,you shall walk along the path through the forest" and "journey home by dusk"... Funny girl. I mentioned to a friend the other day that she is in such a wonderful phase right now. She's fairy tales, horses, and folk music all rolled into one. That's Beatrix. Sometimes, I really wish I knew how to stop the clock.

Today, we rode our bikes down to the river again. Bea and Byron did a little fishing. Bea actually caught her first fish. It was a tiny little thing about 4 inches long. As soon as she pulled it out of the water, she ran and hid behind the trees. She said she was scared about catching the fish and that she felt bad for it. 

In other news, I'm gearing up for a full week at school with a Thanksgiving Picnic followed by parent/teacher conferences. I've been doing a little thrift Christmas shopping for the little one and have found some pretty sweet treasures...I wonder what Bea will think when the day arrives and she realizes that her mama and daddy routinely (and proudly) gave her used toys as gifts for birthdays and Christmases. Just another fun quirk about growing up in this family...

Oh, I have a few more fun links to share this week. 

This is going to be my 2014 calendar. Gosh, golly, I love that Phoebe!

I just don't know if I can resist a class like this. It sounds so juicy to me!  I took so many anthropology and folklore classes in undergrad and almost persued a graduate degree in folklore studies. At the very real risk of sounding like a brain dead, dumb mom, I will say there is something so profound and universal in the human existence. 

On that note, when you feel down and out on humanity, google this flash mob production and you'll feel so much better about the world. Do it! Press play! 

 

Seeing the little girl in red hanging onto the lamp post is the point where the tears flow for me. 

Practicing this on my uke. Yeah, my musical talents are just one more way I stay humble.

The dream is still alive! Not giving up on moving to the mountains. 

 

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!! 

Right now, I feel all warm, cozy, and nostalgic as I let the wonderful reality settle in that fall is on its way. It's been a mental practice of mine to not become wistful too early in summer for something that I can't have - northern seasons. 

But yesterday, today, and tonight, were just glorious. A front blew in rain (4 inches) and cooler temperatures. We threw the windows open. I wore corduroys. Bea wore a sweater, and I swear I just wanted to nuzzle her all day long.

I can't stop smiling. 

We just got back from a long walk around town. Fall is best time of year to take those long evening walks that I love so much. I know I'm not alone to admit that my favorite time to admire my neighborhood is at dusk when the home interior lights get flicked on and you can hear the clinking around and chatter happening within because the AC's are off and the windows are open. There's something so beautiful about the simple everday moments whether their mine or someone else's. To me, the glimpses are just enough to turn the ordinary into something magical. 

And also, you should know, the other reason I am smiling at this very moment is because I can hear Beatrix talking to herself as she settles into bed for the night. There are whispers and giggles and a very high pitch squealy voice, as if she's consoling or caring for one of her "girls". There is a "Hi! I'm Bea!". And I'm not sure who is talking to who in her little mind, but I'm sure Dolly is involved. That girl...is so darn cute these days.  

A Porch Sale

Just a couple of blocks away from our house, sits a dreamy farmhouse. It occupies an entire block. I'm not sure of the acreage that it sits on, but gosh, it must be at least three. We've walked around this place often. We've wondered who it is that occupies this home. Who tends to the gardens? Who listens to the breeze from the wraparound porch? Who knows the different species of birds that nest and swoop through the grounds? Who listens to the evening quiet as the shadows fall through the house, leaving it dark and asleep? How many footsteps danced, pitter-pattered, clunked, trotted, and ran, around corners, down stairs, through entryways, and into someone's mama's kitchen?

It's a beautiful place.

On Saturday morning, we had the opportunity to meet the couple who call this farmhouse home. They are elderly and were having a porch sale to thin out some of their possessions. I have to say, this was about the most thrilling part of my week -- to browse through the exquisite items for sale and to get to know this lovely couple. Byron instantly hit it off with the gentlemen who has a vast collection of vintage political memorabilia. Oh yes, pins, stickers, figurines. Byron gawked and ended up taking home a little stash of his own. 

And I could've sat and talked with the lady of the house all day long. She is of Swedish ancestry, loves Scandanavian folk art, and well, you know, she had some incredible treasures to share! 

Yes, it was a huge thrifting score! Vintage dala horses, Carl Larsson, vintage table clothes, beautiful hanging plates from Germany, a Red Wing 2 gallon crock, oh another hand painted plate of a winter scene with a tomten (perfect for the holidays), and a Wedgewood Beatrix Potter mug for the little miss. 

And of course, we got to talking about children and grandchildren and how fast it all comes and goes and how hard it can be to be to let go, and to be away from family. She longed to be near her grandchildren and her daughter, but her daughter left home when she went away to college and made a life for herself in California.

Oh, us mothers. No matter the stage of motherhood or the generations that divide us, there is something so unspoken and universal about the way in which we love our children. Nothing prepares us for depth of emotions. Nothing prepares us for the lifelong job with the constant duality of nurturing and holding whilst freeing and letting go. 

One day, I'm sure, I'll be on a porch somewhere, surely in need of thinning out decades of thrifted goodies. Perhaps, a young family will enter my reality and all at once I'll be taken back to those short, sweet first years of motherhood and wondering when did the time slip away. 

snip, snip

Well, today, I finally splurged and took Beatrix to get her first real haircut. That cute little bob of hers has been gradually getting harder and harder for mama to maintain. She's got thick hair! Now that I sit here and type about it, it's been close to year that I've known that my trimming skills could not keep up and that she really needed a cut by someone who made a living doing it...

Poor Beatrix, what a deprived little girl she is. Wink, wink, nod, nod. 

She held the steering wheel of her taxi cab chair with a white knuckled grasp and tried desparetly to focus on the screen above her playing Shrek. She's never seen it before. She did not seem amused. I think her mind was elsewhere.

She kept still and got an even cut. It's a little shorter in the back than we were all anticipating, but that had much to do with Beatrix's previous hairdresser's screw-ups.

Though, quite honestly, I am now wondering about the legitimacy of the howls and yells I zone out to each day when I brush her hair. Yes, I am gentle and yes, we use detangler and yes, I start from the bottom. Still, there can be lots of tears and noise. Yet today, she did not flinch once when the hairdresser was combing out knots which leads me to one of two conclusions: she was either holding it together - freaking out on the inside, or knots really don't bother her.

That Beatrix, she is known for her drama - (and her cute do).

Walking

 

Walking...we do a lot of it now in our new town. Depending on which direction we choose as we leave our house, we can end up in vastly different environments. I love that. An after dinner stroll is always a special treat - one that all three of us look forward to. Yesterday evening, our walk took us up to the hike and bike trails that follow the river that cuts through our town. The path led us to the local swimming hole. Here we dipped our toes into the clear, rushing water, searched for skipping stones, admired the view, and felt so much gratitude for this place we call home - our extended backyard.

While we were there, there were a couple of teenagers frolicking in the water with their black lab. They looked so carefree and innocent - with a lifetime of dreams ahead of them. I thought of Bea and how she might very well grow up learning to know these pockets of nature like the back of her hand. This life goes by so fast. Sooner than I realize it, she'll be the young adult on the other side of the hole, communing with her friends, where the water runs clear and the sky is the limit. Until then, I'll enjoy these simple family adventures for as long as I can.

winter fair

It was a glorious weekend - all wet and dreary and now it's really cold, wet, and dreary. I love it. The house has been darkish all weekend with only the lights of the tree illuminating the living room and kitchen.  

Saturday, we ventured out to the Waldorf school for their winter fair. It was muddy (I still can't believe that I just wrote that) and wet.

Bea had a blast carrying our adult sized umbrella around and not dodging mud puddles even though she wasn't wearing rain boots. Oops. The festival was so much fun. We made a wood spinning top, a pom pom ornament, watched a puppet show, ate popcorn, and I scored a sweet red wool upcycled vest for Beatrix at a reasonable price. It's very cute. 

I love that school. It's too bad it's an hour away from us now that we've moved out of town and that one year of tuition cost more than both Byron and my total undergrad college tuition. 

 

 

Gentle morning.

We took a walk today. 

The weather felt gentle on our skin.

She was happy. I was happy.

She tossed rocks into the pond. 

We hiked our normal trails. 

She walked the entire time.

She is getting so big. 

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.