shoring

Who knew that an extreme close up could make the bottom of your cast iron tub look somewhat antiquey and interesting.

After all it is an antique, almost a century old.  Seems that if a cast iron tub has been in place for nearly one hundred years, eventually it will need some reinforcing.

So last week was spent shoring up of that ol' tub.  And the no-longer-sturdy front steps.  And the light fixtures in the stairwell that haven't worked for over a decade.  A decade!  It took less than an hour and $65 to the electrician.  Again, who knew?

We've been shoring up quite a bit.  Projects certainly, but also our emotions.  The emotions that rollick and roll as you take a huge humongous leap of faith.

A leap to a new house, in a new neighborhood, in a new community.  All the while keeping our current house to rent out to others.  Talk about a leap.

For easily 18 months we've been daydreaming about a move to a slightly bigger house with a much bigger yard.  Driving streets, becoming familiar with neighborhoods, weighing the pros and cons of each and every city within reason.  Spending hours upon hours scouring realty websites.  (Oh if I had a dime for every minute spent looking at houses on-line, we could afford a mansion!)

All of this dreaming is coming true.  In just the past couple weeks what we have been praying for has been falling into place, little by little.  And the emotions rise and fall and tremble at the edge of what is possible.  What might be.  What will be.

I've been shoring up my strength.  Preparing to say goodbye to good friends, and gracefully relinquishing commitments to PTA.  Realizing how much I love our teeny tiny house, even as I know we have quite outgrown it.  After 12 years it is exactly the way I like it.  Looking around town at special places that will be missed in our everyday.

Not to mention the roller coaster of house offers and waiting and rejections and waiting and counter offers and waiting.  And the clock is ticking, the very nice renters we found are moving in soon.

So most importantly, I've been shoring up my breath.  Knowing that this transition is going to take moment after moment of calm, I've been breathing slowly and deeply.  For myself,  for my children.  Though we aren't moving very far away, the change is quite real for these littles who have only known this teeny tiny house as home. 

So let this leap be not so scary, but exhilarating and inspiring and interesting too.

here and there {gladsome}

It is hard to describe all of my feelings as gladsome nears.  Emotions tumble over each other as I fully realize what is about to take place.  Excitement makes way for nervousness, which is quickly replaced by delight.  Anxiousness peeks in every so often, but so does a persistent and deepening sense of goodness.  But mostly I feel grateful.  Grateful to be putting into the world something that I believe to be authentic and special.

The past several weeks I've squeezed time in, here and there, to work on the many aspects of the retreat.  The schedule is being refined, supplies are being gathered (and made, of course), special deliveries are being delivered, meals are being planned, and the park landscape is cooperating in its own beautiful preparation for our arrival.  The women participating are enthusiastically awaiting this weekend of creative nourishment.  Some are coming individually, others coming with a friend.  All are coming for the opportunity to gather in a relaxed, reflective, meaningful way.

I believe that when you create something and offer it out to the world it can be surprising where your hard work might lead you.  I imagine that as November nears I will simply need to hold on tight and enjoy this ride through one of my long-awaited dreams.

While I may not know exactly where gladsome will take me and those participating, I can say for certain that it will be good.  Great even.  When you bring together positive, lively women in a gorgeous setting and encourage exploration of their creativity, how could it not be?

There are just a handful of spots remaining for this oh-so-good experience.  Maybe you need an extra nudge to consider attending.  Consider this your nudge. 

summer daydreams

My summer daydreams. 

I've had this list in my head for weeks.  So long, that some of these daydreams have already been realized.  But not all of them and we have already reached the peak of summer, so it is important to write them down now.

:: knit a poncho

:: make grape jelly

:: catch fireflies

:: sew a fence tent

:: bake bread (check!)

:: read outside (check!)

:: take a family hike

:: go to a flea market

:: buy kitchen counter-top canisters (check!)

:: sew something with elastic thread

What are you dreaming about this summer?

welcome summer

So dear friends,  Happy Summer!  I am thankful that my summer seemed to start weeks ago, well before today's official marking on the calendar.

My flowers are well into blooming in the beds and pots.
The salad table is seeing some lovely little sprouts.
We've been eating our share of ice cream cones.
Trees are being climbed.
A first baseball game, ever, has been watched.

And, most importantly, I am working my way through my list of Summer Daydreams. 

Early Saturday morning found us out picking strawberries.

I wonder if my daydreaming of picking strawberries this summer -- and actually writing it on my list -- gave me that extra get-up-and-go to quickly get dressed, convince Honey that we had to, load the kids up in the car and head out to the local farm very very early to make this daydream come true.

Would we otherwise simply have let another morning slide into afternoon and miss the entire strawberry-picking season, like every other summer?  I think so.

So I am grateful that I've been daydreaming.  Grateful that the daydreaming has manifested itself into a list here.  Grateful that with each dream realized I can pause in awe at the joy in my life.

And those strawberries?

They were very quickly eaten.  Though a few made their way into these jars.

But that is another story, for another day.

beginning

I am not sure if I can claim that because I verbalized my summer daydreams that they are beginning to happen.  After all I had this special "knitting night" planned before writing the summer daydreams post.  But I can say that one of my summer daydreams is beginning...and that is such a good feeling.

After having been invited by a wonderful woman that Honey works with, I participated in a local knitting group.  A great mix of experienced and novice knitters welcome!  Luckily I was one of several novices who spent the evening just getting used to the feel of the needles, watching a small square of knit stitches growing larger.  All along guided and encouraged by a woman who must have knitted one thousand sweaters before.

And now I am finding that I enjoy making my misshapen square into more of a misshapen rectangle.  I realize it may not become anything, but I am enjoying the pace of knitting.  And purling.  I learned that too!

Eventually I will make something.  Something usable or wearable.  Anyone have suggestions for good first confidence-building projects?

In the meantime, I am practicing my knit one, purl one.  And trying to keep the hands of the littles occupied with things other than the yarn balls and needles.

So I brushed up on finger knitting, as described in Amanda's Creative Family book.  That might keep them occupied for a bit.

Maybe long enough for me to do one or two rows myself.

summer daydreams

I am a daydreamer.

I daydream as I weed the flower beds.

I day dream as I play with the kids.

I day dream as I walk the dog...do dishes....fall asleep...nurse the littles.

Often my day dreams become doodles and ideas in notebooks, because many of my daydreams are projects or blog posts or adventures to explore.  All certainly take time and effort and intentionality on my part.

Sometimes my day dreams come true.  Wonderful!

Sometimes my day dreams remain just those doodles and notes.  And that is okay too, I have more than I could ever possibly fulfill.

Lately I have been doing some serious day dreaming about summer.  Daydreaming how I want to spend my time, and encouraged by this post, I decided to create my Summer Daydreams list.  Simply, this is how I want to spend my days:

:: picking strawberries
:: planting and harvesting something edible
:: collecting rocks
:: learning to knit something, anything
:: finishing my book proposal
:: developing a Mama Blogger retreat
:: walking, maybe running, along wooded trails
:: digging my toes in the sand
:: quieting myself to simply breath deeply
:: turning my face towards the sun

I will post these on my side-bar, as a way for me to tally and appreciate those daydreams that are fulfilled, and recognize that those which aren't can always be waiting for me another time.  Maybe you will be inspired to reflect on how you want to spend your time this summer, and make your own daydreams list.

tending

It is not often that I get to have five (5!) uninterrupted hours for anything.  Sleep included, ahem.

Yet this weekend, I had the beautiful gift of five uninterrupted hours for tending my soul.

The kind of tending that can only come with hours upon hours to put up your feet and share a meal, a brownie and a very long lingering cup of coffee with a friend who knows you well.

The kind of tending that can only come with telling story after story, sharing idea after idea, divulging dream after dream, and the graceful back and forth of conversation that is enjoyed by two people who truly care for one another, trust one another, and recognize the good the other brings to your own understanding of yourself.

The kind of tending, that once done, makes you feel as if your inner landscape is ready for growth.  The seeds are planted, the weeds removed, the gardener -- with a good dose of insight -- rested.

And we talked a great deal about growth.  That of our children, of our marriages, of our careers.  But mostly the growth of our understanding of ourselves.

So, it was lovely.  Lovely indeed.  The kind of lovely that makes you feel fully yourself again.

So, Hi, I'm Claudine.  I am myself again.  You have this dear friend of mine to thank for it.

today is a sweet day

One of my favorite bloggers has a sign in her home that reads "Today was a good day."

I love that sign.

And I often think of that phrase as it pertains to my days.  Though I sometimes will replace the word "good" with the words great or perfect or fabulous.

This weekend in my mind it read:  "Today was a sweet day."

For so many reasons.  Our out of town guests didn't make it due to the piles of snow that arrived before they could.  So our visit was missed.  But the gift we ended up with was a free weekend as a family.

And we spent part of it sugaring.

Outdoors was cool and breezy at times and sunny and warmish at others.  For hours the fresh air filled our lungs, giving us more energy for the day spent walking and running and traipsing over mounds and mounds of snow.

We tasted sap and syrup.  We marveled at hours-old lambs and piglets nursing side by side by side.

We got knee deep in snow to gather sap, we rode a horse-drawn wagon, we nibbled pancakes and maple candies.

All truly sweet.


But maybe most sweet of all, was the space my mind had to daydream of a wee bit more nature of our own.

It sometimes surprises me to think that way, I've never been confused for "nature girl" after all.  But the older I get the more I realize that I never regret time spent outside.  Never, no matter the weather.  And it seems my children don't either.

So I am dreaming.  After all, any great thing begins with dreams don't you think?

I'm not sure where the dreaming will lead, but I am enjoying it all the same.

Of what are you dreaming today?