Live Free

All Is Calm

Most nights of late I am drawn awake in the wee morning hours. As I roll over to my right side, my eyes open slowly, and I am greeted by a sky of sparkling stars and sometimes if I am lucky, even the precious moon is in my view. Each night, as I awake I am astounded by the night sky. It has been decades since I’ve lived anywhere with a view of those nightly jewels.

It is a deep comfort. This view of the stars. Their presence settles me in my restlessness.

As winter solstice approaches, the hours of sunlight have significantly diminished. By early evening, lights or candles are necessary. The nights are long and there is a lot of time to think.  It is during these dark hours that the melancholy sinks in.

It’s an odd thing to follow your dreams. Or maybe it is that the  human experience is one long experience of continuously learning and relearning, pausing and noticing. There is joy. There is grief. There is sadness and pain. There is joy. There is peace. And on and on.  For many of us, this time of year is particularly laden with strong memories. Lately, I’ve been thinking about my dear old house in Texas at Christmas time and all the wonderful memories of Bea growing up there. Her little footsteps running down the hall when she was 2. The way the evening winter sun flooded the living room floor for just a brief moment before dusk arrived. How Bea would so often drag the stool to the countertop and join in on whatever it was I was doing in the kitchen. All the Christmas baking and the candles we lit.  Carols around the piano with dear friends. And hot cocoa in our Santa mugs. Those were very, very special years.  We left a lot of love when we moved.

I don’t regret moving here.  There is so much we want to discover that we couldn’t do in Texas but as is the nature of things, with the light, there is the dark. It is one.

Beyond the bittersweetness of remembering days past, It  been a lovely season so far.  The stockings are hung. The nativity scene is tucked in on the windowsill, and the wooden advent wreath is the table centerpiece. There has been snow.  I’m fairly strict about keeping the advent season quiet. This year I feel I have been particularly successful.  Less of everything has been my greatest desire. Less gifts to each other. Less garland (yes, I live in the woods and have all the garland I’d ever want this year, but since it’s all around me in nature, I feel like it’s good there and I don’t need it so much in my house). We dug up a sweet little hemolock and decorated it very sparsely. The branches cannot endure much weight so we chose only our most favorite and lightweight ornaments to adorn it. Since we try to run on solar power as much as possible, we didn’t add lights to the tree or the house. Instead, I’ve been lighting tea lights in the windows each night. There have been no big treks into the city to attend The Nutcracker or any other holiday festivity.  We’ve opted for hikes up the mountain and time at home, crafting and baking. I didn’t even send out holiday cards.

We have one more week until Christmas. My goal is to mail out the care packages we have prepared for family and to decorate a few evergreens in the woods with popcorn, cranberries, and dried oranges

All is calm. All is bright.

Thank you, dear souls for taking the time to follow my journey as I sporadically document the magic of the everyday here on this blog.  

Oceans of love to you.  

 

 

 

 

 

weekending

 

Right now, I'm typing on the computer from the kitchen table because we've been closing off the vent to the back room to conserve energy and to help keep the house warmish. It's frigid again.

Yesterday was a different story with our windows thrown open and a day spent outside in Chaco's (and barefeet once home).  I have to say, it was nice.  

Saturday started early as I was awake wwwaaayyy before sunrise all wound up, pondering landscaping options for the backyard.  I found myself at first irritated by the insomnia but grateful that that was the least of which that was keeping me from sleep. Native plants. Thank goodness. I was able to watch the sunrise all by myself. What a gift! You should have seen my backyard.  Lit up in the softest, most comforting and heavenly pink. Just for a minute or two. 

Soon after, the quiet early morning gave way to the rest of  my world waking up. Chickens bawking, cats meowing, coffee perculating, and a chatty and hungry kiddo joining in on the action while the hubby burrowed in for just a little bit longer.  

I scooted out of the house mid-morning to attend a bee-keeping class at the market a few blocks away. The class was fun. And I think we might be getting closer to getting our first hive.  I'm so excited! Bees! Honey!  Beeswax! I moseyed around the grounds of the market after the class just enjoying the chance to notice what was happening in the plant world in our parts.  The peach and apple trees are beginning to blossom.  They are absolutely adorable! I took a lot of photos of the blossoms and of grasses. I'm obsessed with their seed heads! Then, I took the long way home walking along the river -- again, stopping, watching, listening, noticing -- free of distractions.  This is my ideal way to spend three hours alone. 

The afternoon was spent weeding the garden beds and rearranging in the yard. Byron took down a portion of our wood privacy fence which allows for the front and side yard to be connected. I love it and I'm not sure why we didn't do this sooner. 

We woke up to a cold house this morning as another artic blast blew in overnight. After breakfast, we bundled up and headed out for the morning and afternoon to catch a horse show in Austin for the little one. 

Now we are home. The day is closing in on us and in about a half hour or so, nightfall will return. 

Tomorrow is Monday and we do it all over again.

Linking with Amanda. 

 

 

 

and...exhale.

January has been such a big, full month of so many really good things.  I feel myself stepping into February fully inspired and ready for the beginnings of the new season ahead. 

We've had a real winter (with more to come) this year and it feels so nice and so right.  It's true isn't it, there is something so intangible and necessary to our sense of self that  natural seasons help to provide. A cycle. Beginnings. Endings. And everything in between. A heightened sense of appreciation for time. That all of this is fleeting. We are all miniscule particles of the great big everything. 

This month has been spent focusing inward. Reminding myself to sift out what is not nourishing to myself or our family. Remembering to pay more attention to all that brings joy.  It's a constant but ever important task. 

These days,  bits of joy find themselves in a variety of moments...

A backyard of birds attracted to our feeders. Learning to finger knit with my girl. Reading in bed. Making bread again (and a batch or two of brownies). Winter sunrises and sunset (mercy me). Warm drinks of every sort. Morning smoothies. My wooly, wonderful, donated grandpa sweater complete with leather buttons and elbow pads.  Our DIY bookshelves in the morning light. A cleared out corner in the living room that maybe, just maybe might one day be home to a sweet, little woodstove. Organizing and simplifying. Bills. Toys. Photos. Clothes. And realizing that nothing feels better than a life free  and clear from distactions. I need space  --  mind space, living space -- it's all connected. 

I've been finding myself reinspired as I've thought more about homeschooling Bea and how it is all interwoven into the life we see ourselves living. To be honest, it feels like the greatest priviledge and honor to even be able to think about the idea of currating a learning life together.  Parenthood and being present in the process of a little one growing up can be full to the brim with delight.  I'm so grateful I get to ride along side with her on this part of her life journey. 

And to end, here's a few links of interest and inspiration.

Her scarves. Oh my. Have me itching to experiment with natural textile dyeing.  

On a similar topic, isn't what she's cooking up so devine. I love her aesthetic. 

I'm hooked on this series, thanks to two good ladies with impeccable taste. 

Truth and good, solid advice. 

I bought my first ever fabric bundle. It's even better in person. 

In the spirit of mindfulness and all that is lovely and useful, I must mention a note about my incredible friend Amanda  who is organizing a blogger swap  in the upcoming weeks.  She's got this this whole notion of swapping out useful, beautiful, handmade goods down to a science. If you want to participate, I think there might still be time to connect with her.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As wintery as it gets.

While I'm here, happily sipping on chai in the quiet indoors, she's out there, as I'm sure she will be all morning -- until every last ice crystal melts away. Playing, shoveling, running, sliding -- experiencing to the fullest Old Man Winter's gift of ice. 

She is my all-weather girl. Fully alive. Fully immersed when she is outdoors. If she has her way, she prefers the natural elements rather than walls. 

Her joie de vivre inspires me to no end. 

 

And just so you get the full experience of the last photo. Here's 55 seconds of real footage. FUN!   

 

morning walk.

We took a walk around our town lake earlier this morning. Embarassingly enough, it's been nearly two years since the last time we visited this area. The morning was quite beautiful. Cold and stark. The sky was gray and the grasses were a washed out golden. A favorite palette of mine. Bea's sweater had a red hood. I love how it offered a pop of color in the photos! If I tried hard enough, I could almost imagine we were on the salty coast of a sea far, far way. Just the three of us. 

 

 

 

 

Weekending Fun

This weekend was frigid! We ventured out the Austin Waldorf School Winter Fair and had so much fun -- as always.

It was our third year attending and it's one of the Advent seasonal traditions that we love wholeheartedly. It's quite dreamy, spending the morning at the waldforf school, with their grounds so enchanting, and everything about the place feeling magical.

There are many booths of vendors selling their handmade wares -- a perfect time to do a little stocking stuffing shopping. There's also lots and lots of healthy food options, music performed by local musicians and students (though this year was a little more quiet -- perhaps due to the cold...), a puppetshow (which we sadly missed), and crafts for children of all ages. Bea made a pincone bird feeder, a sweet little gnome puppet, a glitter star ornament, and a beeswax candle. She looks forward to these "activities" as she calls them, every year.   

I love going to the fair because it's an outing that I don't have to censor or explain to Beatrix the reasons or purposes behind the activities or food choices. Instead, it's comfortable and familiar to how we live. 

We stayed home on Sunday and toodled around the house, went crazy making lots of coffee filter snowflakes, elfing and such. I feel very crafty (and proud of myself) as my stash of homemade gift goodies grows. So far, we've made soap, beeswax candles (which I've been using for myself - oops), and body cream made from coconut oil, olive oil, and beeswax. It's amazing what you can cook up for the home and body with ordinary ingredients from your pantry.

This morning, the Advent fairies left Beatrix a couple of packs of Sculpy clay. Best gift yet! She spent hours at the table creating clay ornaments with cookie cutters for everyone she knows. Sweet girl! She is so into everything about Advent, Christmas, and Baby Jesus. It's pure joy to share this season with her. I just want to bottle up these moments for years to come. 

 

Linking up with Amanda.

 

baby, it's cold outside

 

brrr...it's 25 degrees outside right now. we plan on going to the winter fair at the waldorf school later on. it should be a balmy 27 degrees by then. the little house is having serious issues keeping warm. i wanted to blog last night but this back bedroom was too dang cold -- like being outside -- cold. we have insulation in the walls and in the attic (a lot up there), and a heat pump for heat (are those as heavy duty as a furnace? i googled last night because i was wondering what it meant when your thermostat read "auxilliary heat"). as usual, the google answers were confusing and after a few minutes, i just shut the window on that search. the floors are freezing (pier and beam), and those windows, well they are a lost cause, i suppose. i'm not excited to see our energy bill for this month. 

anyhoo. it'll warm up. this is texas afterall. in the meantime, i'm loving the for real opportunity to get cozy. it's non stop candles, wool, and tea around here. 

all of this cold weather had me brainstorming a way to get a woodstove into our house. and i finally found a rather obvious solution! if byron could make a built in bookshelf (ceiling to floor -- serious endeavor -- is there a way NOT to run out of bookshelf space?) in our hallway, we could clear a corner in our living room  and place it there. 

but you know, it's still hard to justify. the day before this cold snap it was 80 degrees. winters are all over the place over here. 

well, i guess that's all of my saturday morning rambling i have for now. 

here's a few photos from the past week. 

okay, now, that i posted these photos, i remember i have more to say about the holdiays and such.

we've been having a little advent magic around. no calendar, just little cards that bea finds laying around the house - inspiration from her beloved martin and sylvie from sparkle stories.  one card for each day. so far, we've decorated the tree, have had hot cocoa in our santa mugs, donated a toy and a jacket to those in need, celebrated st. nicholas day, attended the advent choral concert at the univeristy in our town...oh, and she got a new pair of puppy dog slippers. 

i'm doing my best to keep the days low key. we are all so sensitive to hype around here. we hibernate at home as much as possible and get out only for fresh air, important errands, or very special events (which we keep to a minimum). bea has a nervous energy about her that i haven't seen in a long time. her play is rambunctious, loud, and unfocused. i'm trying to ride the wave with grace, but that try certainly is far from full proof. to ward off the craziness of what is easily an over the top time of year, i keep the candles burning, the mulling spices simmering, the sufjan stevens and elizabeth mitchell playing, and the lavendar baths a comin'. we'll find our sweet spot soon enough, i'm sure.  

overall, these days are sweet. i'm so glad i still blog because the other night, i found myself reading back in my archives of all the decembers i've been writing here. it was nice walk down memory lane. there were lots of little things i wrote about that i'd forgotten. bea is so big now. she is so not the little toddler with pitter patter footsteps. sigh. it goes by fast. in a few years from now, i know i will look back to now and think that she was still so little and pure. sometimes, it's hard to believe that the years are linear. wouldn't it be nice if we could somehow dangle our toes back and forth between past, present, and future. then again, perhaps that's the purpose of all this journaling and documenting. 

have a lovely weekend, dear friends. 

ps: any other typepad users having issues lately. i'm experiencing some snarkiness from my blog when i try to format or add links. 

 

weekending

 

there's a mixture of rain and sleet falling right now. and only if i listen carefully, can i hear the dripping. in no time, the gloaming will give way to another long night. 

it's been quiet (as quiet as can be with a young child running circles around me) gray, and sparkly these last few days. my favorite kinds of days. cup after cup of warm tea. hurry up, close the door, the cold is coming in, shiver, kind of days. 

friday began with parent/teacher conferences in the morning. blustery comings and goings of very kind,incredible parents i get the pleasure to work with. it's a pretty sweet gig.  and also, with daddy officially down with a tooth absess. ouch. 

saturday was rainy, wet, freezing, shivering cold weather. wool socks, layers, wool sweaters, gray light, snow clouds (no snow though). a mama/daughter trip to the big city for a bit of pottery painting and window shopping. the layering of extra wool blankets on our beds. extra tight tucks for the little one. 

this house is drafty. those pretty windows and all that natural light they bring in means trouble in the winter. 

today has been an early morning run to the grocery store and then anchoring myself in the kitchen. it was a day of soup, fresh bread, eclairs, coffee, tea. soul food. gazing at the heavy, tumbling clouds from the kitchen windows, crushing on my twinkling star lights, and the sounding joy as the soundtrack to our day. 

 

linking with Amanda. 

wintery

Winter took its time reaching us this year, but I'd say we are in the thick of it now (a Texas version, anyway). 

Last week was one of those dreamy ones. The ones in which we lose track of the days of the week and linger a bit longer in the doing not much phase, just because there's no better way to enjoy the damp and cold weather, in my book. Beatrix and I kept the house lit in candles, sipped on tea, and pretended for brief moments here and there that the rest of the world simply faded away (or at least I did). She danced around the living room to The Nutcracker about 987 times. Good times. I think she's got the stage bug. Her expressions crack me up. 

Here's a few photos that I snapped during the quiet and spare moments of the first days of the new year. 

 

 

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...