Category Archive

Sophie in just her diaper. She’s oddly lumpy, and incredibly squeezable.

Storms in the distance.

The whirlwind visits of family from afar.

A conglomeration of nieces, siblings, and daughters. Can you see what doesn’t belong in that photo?

Simple fixes to concerning vehicle issues. It’s so nice to learn that the problem is an $11 part!

Evening picnics on Great-Great Grandma’s quilt.

Making do, in the good old Ozarkian way.

Sisters and nieces. They’re kind of summery, and I sure do love ‘em!

Fishing. We’ve fished in about every body of water in the Ozarks over the past couple of weeks, and Kinsley caught her very first fish. But that’s another post for another time.

Summer sunsets.

Swimming. Canoing. Gardening. Plump, juicy blueberries, warmed in the sunshine. Even the to-do list has a certain charm in the middle of summer. There is so much richness to be enjoyed this time of year!

1. pillowcase dress

A while back I made THESE pillowcase dresses. Like the t-shirt skirts, I thought the project went smoothly, and always planned to get back to the idea. But, like the skirts, I never did. I did save these links as cute ideas though…

Jen, at Red Instead, has this tutorial.

Leslie also has a tutorial up at her blog, A Room Somewhere. I enjoy reading Leslie’s blog regularly, by the way.

And then there’s Susan’s tutorial on Freshly Picked

2. boston terrier puppies

I don’t actually have Boston Terriers, but my parents do, and they love them to death. They have three of them actually - two females and a male. THe male is virtually impossible to photograph, but here are the two females…

3. dobson ron paul

This search term is interesting to me for many different reasons. The search usually takes people to the post about the open letter to Dr. Dobson. The interesting thing to me, is that any leader in the Christian community can carry so much weight that his endorsement of any political candidate is crucial to that candidacy. It’s also amazing that Christians are so willing to not think, and instead allow a “spiritual geru” to do their thinking for them. We seem to be like sheep who confuse a slightly larger, more prominent sheep for The Shepherd.

4. home crafts

This is one of my favorite topics, right up there with thrifting!

5. baseball posters

I have no idea why this search would lead to my blog. I don’t own any baseball posters, and don’t really have any interest in them. But hello, people searching for baseball posters! Can I interest you in a cup of coffee and photos of my daughters? They’re much cuter than big stinky baseball players anyway. And they sweat less. Not that a poster sweats, but you’d probably have the impression of sweat every time you looked at your poster.

6. embroidery patterns

I love anything with vintage embroidery - especially pillowcases. I wish I could embroidery, but I can’t ever make it look right. I envision all these sweet, simple little girls dresses in natural fibers and neutral colors with charming little embroidered accents.

Beetastic has an amazing collection of vintage embroidery finds. I love to browse through her photostream.

7. seashell crafts

I assume that this search leads to Gentlewood Cottage because of the wreath which I made for Christmas two years ago…

8. marme

The girls’ name for my mom. The name was chosen by my sister-in-law, Delana. I insisted that I got to choose what our kids would call my dad, so he’s Granddad.

9. retro homemaking

An endlessly fun topic. But really, there’s not much difference in Retro Homemaking, and Modern Homemaking, when it comes to the technique - it’s the mentality that’s different. Maybe that should be a whole ‘nother post for a whole ‘nother time.

10. vintage picnic

Ahh the romance…

We used to do this sort of thing more often pre-kid. Maybe someday it won’t seem so daunting and we’ll do it more often again.

You could serve any food at a “vintage” picnic. The romance is in the presentation. Chipped vintage plates with cheery colored flowers, sparkling citrus soda served in real glasses, and strong black coffee in chunky vintage coffee mugs are all essential. Someday I would love to find a genuine red-checkered table cloth to add to my picnic stash. If you’re lucky enough, you will dine on a grassy slope, overlooking a smooth jazz or a big band concert playing in the distance.

In the “old days” we took a book and read for hours. Maybe in the future we will enjoy that again, this time with our children flying kites and chasing butterflies in the distance.

11. love husband

This search thrills me. It’s like Google saw that search and thought “Who was that lady who writes that blog? Don’t you think it’s pretty obvious that she loves her husband? Let’s add that as a search result.” Yup, it must have gone something like that.

12. pioneer spider cooking pan

What? You lost me on that one.

13. handsome husband

See number 11. Strike “loves her husband?”. Insert “has a handsome husband?”.

It all started because of The Little Engine That Could. Kinsley fell in love with that book, and sat steadying every minute detail of each illustration on every single page. She could sit for an hour, looking at that book, thinking, dreaming, looking off into space and imagining.

Then one day, she spotted it. There, on nearly the last page, was a little boy riding a shiny red tricycle. The sheer romance of the illustration captured Kinsley’s imagination at once. She began to notice bikes every where we went, pointing them out and suggesting that she could probably ride them.

Then, her cousins were over one weekend, and brought their bikes to ride on our trail, and the dreamy idea became even more realistic in her mind. She began to ask for a tricycle. “Not a purple tricycle” she clarified, “a red tricycle.”

So, we suggested to her that we begin to save up for one, and watch for them at yard sales and thrift shops. This was the first think that Kinsley has ever really, really wanted, and we wanted to use the opportunity to teach her about saving and waiting. So she saved. I donated all of my laundry funds, and she added every penny she found. We had nearly filled a half gallon jar, when Grandma and Grandpa called one day to say that they had something for Kinsley.

The excitement was nearly too much for her. “It is not purple!” She squealed happily. “Mama, would you like to walk with me on the pathway?” “Look, there’s a spot for my juice!”

Once again, Grandma and Grandpa saved the day!

We celebrated my 25th birthday on Saturday, and it was wonderful!

Kinsley trumpeted the phrase “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MAMA!” through out the day, being very careful to place her tongue between her teeth for the “th” sound in “birthday” and resulting in showers of saliva for anyone near her. Though the above video was created for Uncle Mark’s and Uncle Joe’s birthdays, I thought I’d include it here, to show the sweet pronunciation of the word “birthday”.

I read through some of my journal entries written on past birthdays, and was surprised by many things which I had already forgotten.

I received many sweet birthday messages from friends and family, which made me thankful all over again for the life God has seen fit to bless me with. I don’t feel any older, but my life feels fuller, richer, and sweeter than ever before.

Dan and I accomplished a few little “honey do” jobs, which we’ve been wanting to get to for some time now. And I decluttered. I hauled out over 12 garbage bags of accumulated junk. For my birthday, Dan (at my request) has hired a girl who cleans houses, to come and help me get to some things which I haven’t really cleaned since we began the project of having children. She’ll be coming this afternoon, and I’m so excited!

I’ve been very fascinated to see how people find my blog. Some searches I cannot understand. Some searches I wish I could answer in a more useful manner. Some I just can’t even repeat on this Family Friendly blog. But they all fascinate me.

1. t-shirt reconstruction and all it’s variations.

I can’t believe how popular this search is. It is my number one search term, and the second search term is simply a variation on the spelling. I while back a reconstructed a large t-shirt into two cute little skirts, and thought the project went very well. I’ve saved many a t0shirt, and nearly as many links, intending to get back to the whole topic, but time has not allowed.

Craftster is an invaluable “idea” place for me. There are tons and tons of interesting clothing reconstruction projects. I can’t believe how creative people can get!

2. vintage shoes

I love vintage shoes. But I don’t really remember ever posting about them. If I weren’t me, and I weren’t hopelessly clumsy, I would surely wear those shoes every single day. They’re from Remix Vintage Shoes. I’d pretty much wear any of their shoes - if I weren’t a klutz.

3. blooming tea

My dear friend Rachel let me in on this stuff. Someday, I’ll actually buy some and try it. I can envision the exact setting… In the meantime, I look at the pictures and imagine…

4. gentlewood cottage

It’s nice when people actually search for the blog by name. It gives me a feeling of existence.

5. thrift shop chic rooms

To me, it’s a satisfying feeling to look around any room in my house and spot the thrifted items. It makes me feel frugal and productive. You know - “she bringeth her food from afar” - except… it’s junk. Making the house cozy with unexpected little finds is just thrilling.

6. steak dinner

Does life get any better than that?

7. sewing room

This is an appropriate search in my estimation, because thanks to my husband, I have a wonderful sewing area. It’s so handy and bright and cheery! I think I’d like it, even if it weren’t mine.

8. khaki skirt

I’m still on the lookout for the “perfect” khaki skirt. It’s kind of elusive, like the “perfect” denim skirt. Maybe someday…

9. vintage inspired dresses

Some of my favorite things in life!

10. vintage things

Now that’s a general search for you. But then again, imagine what you might find…

11. miniature dachshund

Got one. A very pregnant one, in fact.

12. frederick morgan

He’s good, isn’t he?

13. which way is the bus traveling

A very deep and thought provoking question. Which usually leads people to this post.

So that’s it for now. The second edition will be released next Thursday!

Journal Entry 5/19/08

As the sun peeked over the horizon and made its way through the window, onto my bed; it kissed my face. I thought of our weekend at Dan and Candace’s place. The highlight of our weekend, indeed! And how could it not be when sweet, little sunshiny kisses hit our cheeks on and off through the whole stay? And like the sun rises and sets, each kiss from our precocious little nieces, dampened our faces with moisture like the morning dew.

Upon our arrival we were enticed with a delectable menu creatively prepared by Candace, whose appetite for innovative recipes (influenced by the Confessions of a Pioneer Woman) tantalized our curiosities. She sited the recipes on her fifty’s retro, white enameled, metal cabinets. We gave our invitation of helping hands. She gladly accepted, but with our meager efforts she managed quite well; most of which could have been done without us, including a wonderful conflagration upon her busy stove top. Fireworks wouldn’t have done any justice; the excitement alone was quite exciting and entertaining! She calmly said, “What will put it out?” and I said hastily, “Baking powder! Oh, er…no, I think its baking soda!” Just like I said she could manage well enough without us.

We enjoyed a Cheese macaroni dish that consisted of green and red peppers, red onions, and…cheese! Brilliant! (That certainly didn’t give credit to the pioneer-lady, sorry about that), anyway, what ever was in it, sure pleased our palates…

…Along side this “palate-pleaser” was a beautiful, mostly homegrown salad (greens and scallions given by Grandma Brand of course) and arrayed creatively in a striking wooden, teardrop shape bowl was green and red bell peppers and…scallions! My brilliance strikes again, (she still could do better without my help). Let’s just say… you had to be there!

Oh, I did forget the stuffed jalapeños filled with…yikes; here I go again…cheese!! (Cream cheese…that is) At least they were wrapped with bacon and no doubt, deliciously HOT! I better quit while I’m ahead or am I? Uhgg, I left out the most important thing, dessert! Grasshopper Pie! There that was easy.

All in all it was very entertaining and very complimentary of Candace’s character. She enjoys the “far and outrageous menus” to which everything prepared was a palatal success, indeed!

Kinsley and Sophie, rug rats of the sort, displayed their precocious characters to the hilt. Crying and whining in a tizzy like manner, probably not even sure what they wanted or why they were fussing. They probably were mimicking what we “big” people tend to do, who knows. Their delectable nuance of character kept them entertaining at all times. Kinsley, in her own little world certainly thought she was the center of attention would carry on a “know-it-all” adult conversation; at least she appeared to have it all figured out, and maybe she did. Sophie on the other hand, puttered around with her two-inch length little legs, going from one thing to another; cloth on her head, ball in hand, examining crumbs and crying for Mama and her “binkster.”

We had beautiful walks down the city-park sidewalk, which led to the city park.

Our eyes found animated wild flowers waving their cheerful blossoms in the gentle breeze that tantalized and led them to the bubbling creek that runs through the little town.

The banks were also adorned with flowing, hair-like, tall grasses which gave a soft continuity against the rocky banks.

The activities of our stay consisted of basket ball at the park, without a basket ball— hum, “who would-a-thunk” (a Mark Jacobson term)? The only ball available was a soft soccer ball that Dan and Candace had…“Hey, whatever works!” The English family joined us there and all had a wild game of soccer-ball/basket ball game, they didn’t seem to miss the proper ball.

The playground was Kinsley’s and Sophie’s delight other than almost getting plowed on the court and totally oblivious to it all. Sophie found the slide to be thrilling and her face in an almost fright, gave “us” observing more of a thrill! Kinsley gave her Uncle Jared an exhausting time (to his delight of course) with her “peek-a-boo” games.

We headed to the Huzzah, I think or at least it was an arm of it, to slash on buoy-boards and plastic donut floaters.

It didn’t last long though, the water was too cold. Kinsley took it upon herself to release the “warm liquid kind” onto the only blanket we had to sit on. She thought what was wrong with that, it’s a normal fact of life!

Sophie examined the geological finds of ornate rocks though half her time was spent trying to balance on them which set her to get angry and think that it was her Mama’s fault or anyone who was near. My kids shivered and chattered most of the time, they didn’t want their Aunt Candace to get her feelings hurt you know.

Nathan took it upon himself to use Sophie’s floating ring and had a cute ride down some cute little rapids. He looked like an over-sized spider that found a nice spot to spin its web. Kind of gross with those hairy, spindly legs hanging out over the sides; if I had a fly-swatter I might have used it!

Gage and Glen, once back at D& C’s home, continued their racer-like bike rides down the sidewalk, dodging each other before a collision took place (I had to resign myself to whatever course it took, luckily nothing happened and they got to enjoy their uninterrupted fun).

Nathan and Eric took to mowing for Dan. I think they felt sorry for him; poor guy, he needs a break here and there; he’s a busy man you know! Ahh, gee (that’s what the kids would say)!

Nathan and Natalie were big helps in the kitchen washing dishes and mopping floors and at best helping with their tiny little cousins demanding needs.

We all found it a delightful weekend and a break from the monotony of our lonesome hill. Tears ended the stay for the little guys and following the next day, Gage didn’t unpack because it made him sad; he even said he was going to keep his toothbrush in there too, and didn’t see why we couldn’t just go back. He’d be ready if we had a change of mind.

To sum it up: “If you stay out in the sun long enough, you’re bound to get sun-kissed and better yet, if you stay out in the sun long enough with you nieces, you are bound to get the ultimate sun-kiss… ” — Aunt Paula of course!

Kinsley on the other hand, approaches live with much more thought and imagination. Many of her conversations begin with phrases like: “it seems to me…”.

As one uncle puts it, she’s the Dreamy One. Another phrases it “so many phobias, so little time”.

She preferred to stay closer to the ground on this particular evening, and pretended that she was eating “out”. We were cued into this game when Kinsley told Dan that she “had ordered already”, and was now “waiting”.

On the few occasions when she chose to slide, she was very careful to hold on to each bar in the railing on her way up the “stairs”.

Once she had reached the top, she thought carefully about her descent.

And often had to be coaxed down.

Once we left the park to walk home, she wanted to sit and “soak up the sun” in a safe place - “are there no ticks here, Papa?”

Sophie, who had no patience for this, decided to get on with things.

That’s pretty much Sophie’s approach to life. She goes and goes and goes, like the energizer bunny on speed.

The way she took to the slide at the park didn’t surprise us. Actually, the surprising part was how she got to the slide. We were at the basketball court when she decided that the slide looked fun. She took off running toward it, got to the edge of the court, noticed the one inch step down to the grass, stopped about three feet from the edge, sat down, scooted all the way to the edge and carefully scooted over that little lip and onto the grass, where she continued her dead run to the slide. That little bit of caution was the only bit we witnessed for the rest of the evening.

She would climb up to the top of the slide (however she could get there) and essentially hurtle herself down it, in any position. At the bottom she would shriek with laughter and shout “Faster! Faster!”

Baby Feet

Tell me, what is half so sweet
As a baby’s tiny feet,
Pink and dainty as can be,
Like a coral from the sea?

Talk of jewels strung in rows,
Gaze upon those little toes,
Fairer than a diadem,
With the mother kissing them!

It is morning and she lies
Uttering her happy cries,
While her little hands reach out
For the feet that fly about.
Then I go to her and blow
Laughter out of every toe;
Hold her high and let her place
Tiny footprints on my face.

Little feet that do not know
Where the winding roadways go,
Little feet that never tire,
Feel the stones or trudge the mire,
Still too pink and still too small
To do anything but crawl,
Thinking all their wanderings fair,
Filled with wonders everywhere.

Little feet, so rich with charm,
May you never come to harm.
As I bend and proudly blow
Laughter out of every toe,
This pray, that God above
Shall protect you with His love,
And shall guide those little feet
Safely down life’s broader street.

Edgar Allen Guest

From Beauty and the Bath

I recently learned that I have been obsessed with something before I ever knew it existed, That is, if you can know that you are obsessed with something even if you aren’t even aware of the real existence of the object of your obsession? I don’t know if that makes any sense, so I’ll stop the commentary.

“Bokeh (from the Japanese boke ボケ, “blur”) is a photographic term referring to the appearance of out-of-focus areas in an image produced by a camera lens. It is pronounced (Boke-aay)”

Read more on Bokeh from Wikipedia.

I recently learned this term from Miz Booshay, who was guest blogging over at the Pioneer Woman’s Photography Blog. Somehow, learning that there is a term for “that nice, blurry background” which I love so much, was exciting to me (I’m fairly easy to please).

While I have a lot to learn before I can grasp the technical side of Bokeh, I am content to know that the idea exists, and have begun to notice it more in my photos. I find that I get much more pleasing bokeh when I use my 50mm f1.8 than when I use my 18-200mm 1:3.5-6.3, which I think makes sense.

Would it be possible to see these photos and not notice the pleasing, twinkly background?

Cheerfulness is a Beauty which every body admires. A cheerful spirit is a continual feast. It smiles its way through life. It wins crowns for its possessor. It makes and gives happiness. All sunshine and flowers is a cheerful heart. It shines in perpetual spring. Its birds are ever singing, and its joys ever new.

From a text entitled Aims and Aids for Girls and Young Women, written in 1856 by George Sumner Weaver

This statuette stood out to me when we visited the Art Museum for Dan’s birthday. It was entitled, simply, “Charity”. It struck me especially because the example of Charity in this case was a mother with two small children, and I immediately felt empathy with the statue. Then I thought again about the whole idea of allure and how it actually relates to the character of Charity, in that both require true self sacrifice.

In other words, in order to be a queen, I must simply embrace what God has given me to do, with the Spirit of Christ ruling my actions.

In WHAT’S WRONG WITH THE WORLD, G.K. Chesterton paints a vivid picture of the importance of the mother’s role:

“Our old analogy of the fire remains the most workable one.
The fire need not blaze like electricity nor boil like boiling water;
its point is that it blazes more than water and warms more than light.
The wife is like the fire, or to put things in their proper proportion,
the fire is like the wife. Like the fire, the woman is expected
to cook: not to excel in cooking, but to cook; to cook better
than her husband who is earning the coke by lecturing on botany
or breaking stones. Like the fire, the woman is expected to tell
tales to the children, not original and artistic tales, but tales–
better tales than would probably be told by a first-class cook.
Like the fire, the woman is expected to illuminate and ventilate,
not by the most startling revelations or the wildest winds of thought,
but better than a man can do it after breaking stones or lecturing.
But she cannot be expected to endure anything like this universal
duty if she is also to endure the direct cruelty of competitive or
bureaucratic toil. Woman must be a cook, but not a competitive cook;
a school mistress, but not a competitive schoolmistress;
a house-decorator but not a competitive house-decorator; a dressmaker,
but not a competitive dressmaker. She should have not one trade but
twenty hobbies; she, unlike the man, may develop all her second bests.
This is what has been really aimed at from the first in what
is called the seclusion, or even the oppression, of women.
Women were not kept at home in order to keep them narrow;
on the contrary, they were kept at home in order to keep them broad.
The world outside the home was one mass of narrowness,
a maze of cramped paths, a madhouse of monomaniacs.
It was only by partly limiting and protecting the woman that she
was enabled to play at five or six professions and so come almost
as near to God as the child when he plays at a hundred trades.
But the woman’s professions, unlike the child’s, were all truly
and almost terribly fruitful;…

…it is not difficult to see… why the female became the emblem
of the universal and the male of the special and superior.
Two gigantic facts of nature fixed it thus: first, that the woman
who frequently fulfilled her functions literally could not be
specially prominent in experiment and adventure; and second,
that the same natural operation surrounded her with very young children,
who require to be taught not so much anything as everything.
Babies need not to be taught a trade, but to be introduced to a world.
To put the matter shortly, woman is generally shut up in a house
with a human being at the time when he asks all the questions
that there are, and some that there aren’t. It would be odd
if she retained any of the narrowness of a specialist.
“

Charity, as defined by Webster:

1:
1. Love; universal benevolence; good will. 2: 4. Whatever is bestowed gratuitously on the needy or suffering for their relief; … any act of kindness.

With that, Happy Mother’s day! May you take joy in the sphere with which God has blessed you.

I have been very fascinated by these little flowers (or weeds?) this spring. I seem to be obsessed with photographing them, and both girls have a new appreciation for them.

I have heard that the dandelion is supposed to be a good measuring device for all sorts of things.

Weather:

“The dandelion is an excellent barometer, one of the commonest and most reliable. It is when the blooms have seeded and are in the fluffy, feathery condition that its weather prophet facilities come to the fore. In fine weather the ball extends to the full, but when rain approaches, it shuts like an umbrella. If the weather is inclined to be showery it keeps shut all the time, only opening when the danger from the wet is past.” Says “Camping For Boys” by H.W. Gibson

The time:

“The dandelion is called the rustic oracle; its flowers always open about 5 A.M. and shut at 8 P.M., serving the shepherd for a clock.” “The Child and Childhood in Folk-Thought” by Alexander F. Chamberlain

And, last but not least, Love:

It’s said that if you can blow all the seeds off with one blow, then you are loved with a passionate love. If some seeds remain, then your lover has reservations about the relationship. If a lot of the seeds still remain on the globe, then you are not loved at all, or very little. Source: “Unusual Vegetables, Something New for this Year’s Garden,” Rodale Press Emmaus, PA.

Maybe I need to make something of this obsession. Have you ever made dandelion wine? I’m considering this recipe.

“Dear common flower, that grow’st beside the way,
Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold,
First pledge of blithesome May.”
~ Ellen Mackay Hutchinson Cortissoz

Sophie has a tongue which is about four inches long. We’re not sure what to do about it. She’s not sure what to do with it. It doesn’t seem to stay in her mouth.

Kinsley seems to be having issues with her tongue as well.

They come by it honestly. Their Papa sticks his tongue out when he concentrates. Their Mama was once a flower girl at a wedding and hung her tongue out of her mouth the entire time.

To the world’s best Papa and husband - the light of our lives! Happy Birthday to the man who penned these words, five years ago:

I long to hold you all through the night, and watch you sleeping next to me as I thank God again and again for you, and pray for you. I long to cuddle with you, and watch sunsets, and full moons, and fingernail moons, and snow fall, and storms, and breakers, and fall colors, and who can tell what else. I long to work with you, my helpmeet, on all the good work the Lord has for us.

I will never be able to get enough of you, my darling. You are much more than a dream come true. No one but our loving, knowing Lord can know how much you amaze me, and how much you have my heart! May God make you fulfilled, satisfied, happy and fruitful in these revived, happy arms, by His grace.”

All of our dreams continue to come true! God has blessed me with the most wonderful man and two lovely daughters.

So I thank God for the birth of my husband, and I look forward with hope to the many years we will have together, enjoying His creation, and participating in His Life.

Over the weekend, I purchased a pair of shorts for Kinsley at a local yard sale. Kinsley lives in them now, even though the weather has turned cool again. She insists that these shorts are exactly what she needs to “catch frog legs with Uncle Jacob” and since you can never know when you might need to catch a frog leg, she wears them as much as she can get away with. She seems to feel light and springy in them.

On Saturday, Kinsley set off on a lone walk. Papa watched her from the yard as I hung laundry on the line. We thought that she would stop at a bench which is within easy walking distance of our house, and is usually the destination of the girls’ expotitions. Instead, she confidently strode past the bench, arms swinging carelessly at her sides, watching the birds along the creek. When she got near the bend in the pathway which leads to a bridge over the creek, Papa called to her, instructing her to turn and walk back toward our yard. She obeyed, in her dreamy Kinsley way. She was nearly home when she stumbled and fell. Both of her bare, bony knees were scraped, but I think the real injuries came from the shock of being jolted from her dreamy reverie.

Papa cleaned her wounds, explaining sadly that this was her first strawberry, and one of the first of many injuries which she would probably be inflicted with throughout her life.

On Monday, as Kinsley was going potty, she inspected her knee which has caused her much grief over the past few days. She looked up at me and said:

“We call this a strawberry. I don’t like strawberries. And anyway, I tasted it, and it’s not a strawberry - it’s just a scrape.”

“To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else.”
~Emily Dickinson

This morning I took a rare moment when Sophie was down for a nap to curl up in Dan’s recliner chair with a cup of coffee and Sarah Ban Breathnach’s Simple Abundance, A Day Book of Comfort and Joy. As I read, I was aware of the sounds of the house: the dishwasher, the washing machine, the rise and fall of Sophie’s deep breathing over the baby monitor, and the faint dripping of rain on the tender new leaves of the trees outside. As always happens, something I read got me thinking, ideas ping-ponged around in my head, until I thought I’d try to chronicle them here.

“…Then, without missing a beat, you wipe a snotty nose, change a dirty diaper, defrost the hamburger in the microwave, start the spaghetti sauce, sew a button on a coat, help someone with her homework. You pause for a moment, wondering what they would do if you weren’t here and realize in the same breath that you’re awfully glad you are. Much to your astonishment it occurs to you that you must posses some aspect of allure because everybody in the house gravitates to you. In the middle of the night, they call your name.”

Somehow that exert summed up in my imagination what motherhood is. I want it to be all lace doilies and roses, and instead it seems to be snotty noses and dirty dishes. But that is exactly where the memories are to be made. While I desire that my children have a calm and orderly environment to learn and grow in, it may not come to fruition in the way that I imagine. The allure of motherhood actually lies in the acts of self sacrifice and denial. It lies in the cheerful giving of ourselves for our family.

“There is in the world no function more important than that of being charming, to shed joy around, to cast light upon dark days… is not this to render a service?”
~Victor Hugo

We find our daughters to be charming as they go about their lives being babies. When they are alert, and interested in the world around them, commenting on the things which they observe, we find them charming. When the daughter becomes obsessed with her hurt knee, or her desire to watch a certain movie, or play with a toy which her sister is enjoying at that moment, she looses her charm. The charm of childhood comes from forgetting herself and just living.

True charm and allure can only be attained by transparently being what God has made us to be. Charm and allure can be learned, in the sense that one can learn good manners or gracefulness, but it always comes from the root of self sacrifice. To sacrifice self is to esteem others as greater than ourselves, which is true Love. To truly Love, is to truly Live. As Emily Dickinson puts it, to Live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else, and that is allure.

I have been a long time reader of Alison’s blog, Brocante Home Chronicles. She is a big proponent of what she calls the Puttery Treat, an idea which I find very enticing.

Then, today I was glancing over Sense and Sensibility (a message forum geared toward historical sewing), an off-topic thread entitled: Taking Care of Yourself as a Mum… got me started thinking.

The train of thought went something like this:

I have a moment every now and then to relax, and when that time comes, I’m usually so overwhelmed that I don’t know what to do, and so waste that moment staring blankly at the computer screen (sad, but true). So, if I wrote down some of the great ideas which the lovely ladies at the S&S forum had given, as well as some of my favorite puttery treats, along with a few of my very own ideas, I could put them all in a pretty jar on my window sill and draw a slip of paper out when I had the time. But next I thought that I could also keep the list right here on Gentlewood Cottage, where I could refer back to it, and add or subtract to the master list as I see fit. Then, the thought struck me, that if I had a copy of the list online anyway, I could copy and paste it into Random.org’s list randomizer, and come up with a single treat that way as well.

So, that’s the long explanation for the list which you will find below.

:: Find a pretty water glass to help motivate me to drink plenty. Add mint leaf or a slice of lemon, lime, or orange in it for prettiness and taste.

:: Go for a walk. Attempt to indulge all five senses on the walk. Watch the clouds, keep an eye out for little critters, new wildflowers, and birds, stop and breathe in the smells, touch the various barks and leaves, listen to the music of the birds and insects, pluck some of the wild raspberries along the pathway.

:: Do a workout video

:: Listen to some classical music with the girls while stretching.

:: Fold a pretty tea towel in half and sew together. Make half inch hems either end and thread elastic through, before adding a ribbon loop and feeling virtuous because now you have a pretty place to store those plastic bags which seem to multiply in our home.

:: Demote a blanket to garden duty and leave it folded in a basket near the back door for chilly Spring evenings outside. Allocate a garden pinny and hang it from a ribbon tied laundry peg on your doorknob.

:: Chill fruit tea in the fridge as you do your housework, then sit down with a pretty little cup and the morning paper as reward for scrubbing the bath so wonderfully well you can see your reflection in it.

:: Make a drama out of lunchtime…select a beautiful tray and the bestest china you own, add a napkin and a tiny bud vase, and sit quietly, meditatively, as you eat…

:: Use white vinegar and a cotton bud to clean the crevices of your phone. (The blasted things get soooo grubby don’t they?) Then give the whole thing a gentle swipe with a cloth scented with lavender or orange blossom.

:: Clean out the girls dresser drawers and add a cotton ball soaked in lavender

:: Hunt out an old fashioned enamel coffee pot and use it to water your houseplants while you wait for the kettle to boil in the morning…

:: Dust your light bulbs with a cloth infused with aromatherapy oil for a gentle scent when you switch them on…

:: Choose a pretty teacup and use it to scoop washing powder into the machine.

Dan and I (with the company of my parents) have set of on a seven day juice fast. While we’re not buying all that alkalizing, enema, dry brush, cold shower stuff (which Dan is convinced the guy made up to see what odd things he could get people to do), we are doing the juicing part. And the fasting part. We’re in day two, and it’s not going too bad. Today I have more energy than I did yesterday, at least. Food still sounds really good though. The neighbor just invited us to dinner, describing in mouth watering detail the Chicago Dogs which they would be serving.

Yesterday we had carrot, strawberry and pear juice. It was pretty good. This morning we had apple, pear, lime and celery, which was also very good.

I made this veggie broth stuff, which, as it turns out, is also pretty good!

Think we’ll make it seven days?

In music study the same principles apply as do in picture study, nature study, and nature notebooks. That is the principle of attentiveness and good observation. The goal is not to have children who can give a lecture on music theory. It is to have children learn to enjoy classical music and tell one piece from another just as naturally as they learn the difference between, say, The Farmer in the Dell and When the Saints Go Marching In - because they are both familiar with and fond of what they are hearing. The more they are exposed to good literature, the better they get at reading the themes and language of literature. In art and music, the more they are simply exposed to pictures and music, the more they learn to ‘read’ the themes of the world’s classic compositions. ~Ambleside Online

Kinsley spent some time sitting quietly and listening to Vivaldi’s Spring today. I had prefaced the “lesson” by telling her that this music was written by a man named Vivaldi, and he wrote this particular song to express what Spring made him imagine.

We had already been discussing the different seasons, and she has become fascinated with the thought that spring is the time for birds, and bugs, rain, and bees, so that is what she was listening for in the music.

…Spring, with a profusion of birds, the breath of gentle breezes, a murmuring stream, swaying plants, a goatherd lulled to sleep and shepherds holding a celebratory bagpipe dance. ~Classical Notes

She was pretty sure she heard rain in the music, and then some bees, which she told me she doesn’t like “’cause they can sting your bommom” (bottom).

I found that her attention span for this sort of thing is roughly 60 seconds long, but she was able to stretch herself and sat to listen for about five minutes. All in all, I thought it wasn’t a bad first lesson in classical music.

Ah, evening. Undoubtedly my favorite time of the day. Yes, that clock in the background reads 12:46. Sometimes, evening begins a little later at our house. We were having a serious withdrawal episode last night, which lasted till a little after midnight, but we made it through unscathed.

Dan and I succeeded in getting both girls down, got the dishwasher loaded and started on it’s task, checked the email, then crept softly to our bedroom, feeling as if we were suffering from post traumatic stress syndrome. We had been looking forward to a bit of Wodehouse before bed, but after a whispered conversation, we decided we’d better snatch whatever sleep we could, instead. Settling into bed, Dan reached for the lamp switch, just as we heard Sophie’s tiny little trumpet voice call out in the darkness “Mama? Mama!”.

Sometimes, I don’t know how I would survive the girls if it weren’t for my husband in the foxhole with me. Of course, God is in it all with us, too.

We’ve been attempting to get the girls outdoors, now that the weather is becoming more agreeable. Papa is planning to start beehives this spring, and has spent a good deal of time explaining what it is that bees do. Kinsley has apparently taken it all in, because she explained to our librarian (in great detail) how it all works.

This morning, she was reading an Usborne book of spring-ish things, and was commenting on how the flowers have to grow so that the bees can carry the pollen. It got my wheel turning about a little science lesson which she might be interested in, so we pulled on our crocs and set out to the back yard, armed with two pots, a spoon, some Larkspur seeds, the Usborne book, and of course, the camera.

After waving at the neighbor’s dog, sampling the various grasses, and searching for a good spot with soft dirt, we settled in. I read over the page about how a seed grows, and then helped the girls fill their pots with moist, sweet smelling soil.

Kinsley dreamily pressed her soil into her pot, commenting about Cardinals and Robins.

Sophie packed her soil into the pot with much intensity.

I gave them each several seeds to put in their pots…

…and then dug out a bit of soil to sprinkle over the top. At this point, we found an earthworm. The girls were delighted and terrified at the same time. In an odd way, it made me think of all the people throughout the Bible who found themselves face to face with an angel. Don’t you imagine that they would feel a mixture of terror and delight? Anyway, I tried to explain what a worm does, put I think I lost ‘em on that one. They were too busy squealing with laughter and jumping backwards to get away from the worm to listen.

Once inside, we carefully watered the pots, and placed them in the kitchen window sill to nap in the sunshine.

Kinsley is having an Anti-Binkster week. It began with the ceremony of driving out to Granddad’s office to leave the binkster in a pretty gift bag, tacked to his bulletin board. Granddad has been a great proponent of Binkster Weaning, and Kinsley knows that. She often makes commentary about this or that thing which Granddad will do “if I don’t have my binkster in my mouth” and she always point out to him when she doesn’t have her binkster in her mouth.

We agreed that we would have a Non-Binkster Party at the end of the week, Grandma has promised a few presents, and Papa and I have promised that Kinsley will be allowed to chose a (small) gift for herself, upon the completion of seven days without a binkster.

Papa and I have tried to bring small rewards into our daily activities, pointing out that each one is another milestone she has reached because now she’s a big girl and no longer needs her binkster.

On day one, we set up a “big bed” in Kinsley and Sophie’s room. Kinsley has been thrilled, and has drug every single relative who has stepped through our door. She announces that this is a Non-Binkster Big Girls Bed.

So, all that to explain these photos of the girls’ bedroom.

We’ve painted some old furniture, brought in a few new things, and rearranged everything. In a very Non-Binkster sort of way.

A game of “This Little Piggy”…

Some tickling…

A moment to admire the softness…

And then, back to the piggies…

“The atmospheric conditions have been very unfavourable lately,” said Owl.
“The what?”
“It has been raining,” explained Owl.
“Yes,” said Christopher Robin. “It has.”
“The flood-level has reached an unprecedented height.”
“The who?”
“There’s a lot of water about,” explained Owl.

Rainy day things:

1. Read.

2. Work on one’s beauty routine. Don’t worry Papa, I watched over the whole activity, very carefully.

3. Plan and organize.

4. Snack on fruit in pretty vintage dishes.

5. Fluff bedding in the dryer, scented with April Fresh Bounty sheets, in preperation for a warm and cozy nap.

6. Snuggle with a heated rice bag to cure heartburn, real or imaginary.

7. Abandon heat bag for a romp in Papa’s recliner.

8. Allow Frances to snuggle with the rice bag.

9. Explore contents of toy box.

10. Nap.

11. Wrap Marme’s birthday presents.

12. Tackle Mount Laundry.

13. And, finally - snuggle up in my chair with coffee and Agatha Christie.

Last weekend, I made a spur the moment dash to the thrift shop. Kinsley stumbled upon a pair of very worn, and slightly too big pink crocs. But these are not your normal run-of-the-mill crocs. These crocs have little “jewels” decorating them. It was love at first sight.

I nearly told her she couldn’t have them. After all, there wasn’t much tread left, and they were pretty grungy. But, I decided to let her purchase them anyway, and I’m so glad I did. I had no idea that something so mundane could thrill her as thoroughly as it has. The purchase of the pink crocs has undoubtedly been the most exhilarating moment in Kinsley’s short life.

She shows them to everyone who will give her a second glance. She has talked non-stop about going to show them to Marme and Granddad, Uncle Eric and Aunt Paula, and her friend, Hosannah. She had a potty training mishap yesterday, and was in tears over the fact that now her crocs are dirty.

But wait, isn’t that Sophie wearing the crocs in all these photos? It is indeed. Kinsley asked Sophie to take care of the shoes while Kinsley napped, yesterday afternoon. Sophie was more than happy to oblige.

PS - As I type, Kinsley is asking “Where is my pink crocs? Where can they be? Mommy, have you seen my pink crocs?”

Yesterday, my grandma called to invite the girls to come over and play with her at the park. Bubbles were mentioned. And duck feeding. We went, of course.

Grandma has always been my special buddy, and I love seeing her carry on this tradition with my girls. Grandma is THE reason I sew. She taught me everything I know in this field. As a little girl, I thought Grandma could sew anything. Once, when I stayed at her house for a day or two, I wanted to go swimming, but I had left my swim suit at home. Many Grandmas would purchase a swimsuit for their granddaughters. Most would simply refuse to indulge. My Grandma simply took me downtown to the little fabric shop, allowed me to choose some Lycra fabric (mine had tropical fruit), drove us back home, whipped up a swim suit (complete with ruffles and all) and had me to the pool by the time it opened. After that, I knew she could sew anything.

Anyway, she’s as self sacrificing as ever. And my girls love her dearly.

When we got to Grandma’s house, she had already prepared the bread for the ducks, torn into small chunks and divided into two bags, one for each girl.

Sophie mostly ate hers.

Occasionally she launched a piece or two at a duck. The ducks weren’t all that hungry.

Kinsley tried pretty hard, in her own dreamy way.

Then once the bubble blowing began, the ducks were all but forgotten.

Except not by me. This is the very park where I came with Grandma when I was a little girl. This is the park where the city pool used to be. And this - this may well be the self same duck, that chased and bit me when I was a kid. I kept a close eye on him. Look at that evil glare. I think he’s onto me.

I was the only one concerned about it, too.

See that greedy “gimme” stance? That’s cause Grandma even thought to bring pretzels and apple juice.

The mere thought of food gets Sophie’s tongue working.

So, this is Grandma. I don’t think she’s changed a bit since I was two. That thrilled smile she gets when she watches the girls? She used to get that over me. That’s the way I’ll always remember her, even though you’ll never see that smile in any professional photo of Grandma.

After my brother left, my dad’s mother and step-dad joined the family party. Once again we cooked, we ate, and we enjoyed the girls.

At some point during all this visiting, Sophie discovered Marme’s marshmallow supply. She helped herself generously, taking one bight out of each marshmallow, setting it on the able, and returning to the pantry for more.

The sunset was absolutely beautiful one evening.

Marme and Granddad have recently gotten some baby chicks. The girls love them and were allowed to name a few. Kinsley named this one “Jeeves”, so my siblings named another one “Wooster”.

Will you check out the intensity of the Sophie?!

Another uncle (Seth) on their Papa’s side, calls Sophie “Oba”, and Kinsley “Dreamy One”. We weren’t sure where “Oba” came from (neither is Uncle Seth) but I can see the “Dreamy One”.

Okay, I just looked up “Oba” and the definition I found was “A hereditary chief or king among various peoples of Benin and Nigeria.” I can see that, too. Sophie’s pretty regal at time, and at other times, she’s pretty tyrannical.

PS - Jeeves has passed away, Kinsley tells me. She probably knows as she keeps up with these things. I wonder if it has anything to do with all the loving he has received in his short life.

When my sister Hannah was about three years old, my family was dining at a restaurant in a large city fairly near home. Eating out has always been something of a special event in my family. We would dress in Sunday best, and be on our best behavior. So, on this occasion, when the table next to us was filled with rowdy, noisy, and sloppily dressed children, Hannah watched then in shock and dismay.

When we left the restaurant, Hannah exclaimed “Did you guys see those orphelans sitting next to us?!”

We asked her how she knew that they were orphans, and she said “Orphelans are those kind of children that run around in the woods with no clothes on, and are wild!”

Sometimes, my own daughter reminds me of an orphelan. A demanding, wild little orphelan. Take this for example. At Marme and Granddad’s house, she removes her clothing “cause I am hot!” and demands that she be swung by an uncle. First she demands, then if that doesn’t work, she wheedles. Wheedling seems to be most effective on uncles. As she was heading out the door with Uncle Jacob, I heard her say “Awe, I love you Uncle Jacob!”

On this particular day. Granddad was out making a minor repair on his truck, and so dressed up for Kinsley’s viewing pleasure as she swung.

Last week we spent quite a bit of time at Marme and Granddad’s house. My brother Caleb was visiting from Maryland.

There was much cooking, eating and entertainment from my girls.

The girls love to dance, and Uncle Jared built this coffee table in my parent’s living room - partly as a dance floor for the girls, and partly as a birthday gift for my mom (Marme).