Catching up...

April has been a whirlwind.  A fabulous, sweet, zephyr type of whirlwind.  One that leaves me breathless and smiling as I tumble into a heap when it slows down for a moment.

It started with life-long friends coming to stay for a week.

Julie and I, and James and Julie were friends in highschool.  James and I weren't friends until 2 weeks before he left for Continentals, but we both had great taste in friends - obviously. 

It blessed our socks off that they came just to be with us.

 I wanted to spoil them!  Something always goes wrong when I want to totally ROCK a dinner.  Usually Frogmore is a no brainer and turns out amazing, but nope.  Not this time.  Not when I really want it to be Fabu.  The potatoes weren't done (which, in the end was fine, but still disappointing).

My favorite part of Frogmore is the easy clean up.  Roll up the paper and toss it! 

 We spent the next day wandering through town in fresh fallen snow.  Yes.  Snow.  In April.  So, we didn't wander long.  We came home and fixed soup and biscuits (GF of course).  Then curled up and chatted until dinner. 

 That night they taught us Hand & Foot.  Julie and I sipped Milbrandt wine.  We laughed late into the evening.

 My days are all jumbling together, so I'm just going to post photos and explain them... No particular order of days here.
Above was a trip to the antique store that Malinda adores.  I could swear I took a photo of Drake with the Duck decoys, but it isn't on my photo card, so I guess I didn't.  They 2 of them were like kids in a candy store.  It was so cute.

 iPhones are so great to whip out and snap memories.  Here's our sushi night at Dave's.  I was so happy Drake loves sushi. 

 Disappearing. . . 

 Every last bite!

Did I mention it was cold?  

I'm also noticing that 90% of my photos revolve around eating... we honestly did more than eat.  I did a photo shoot with Drake, Julie and I popped in and out of cute shops, we talked and laughed, played games, sipped wine, laughed some more. . . 

Yet, here we are back to eating - Naked Noodle.

 Drake bought a Bomba and Bombilla at Co-op, so Minda showed him ho to make Yerba Mate'. 

 We had played so much Hand and Foot, and Banana Grams that we opted for Balderdash!  What a great game to play with Drake!  That boy can make up lies with the best of 'em!  Minda was multi tasking as usual - lying & knitting :)

We said goodbye on Easter Morning after a GF pancake breakfast.  Hard to let them go.  They promised to come again, and we can't wait!!
I have more of April to post... A trip to see Tofer, a trip to California, a day trip out Cottonwood canyon... but I'm feelin' melancholy after rehashing the Johnsons' visit. I'll save those for another post or 2.   Life in Montana seems to be lived so far from friends and family. 
I'm thankful summer is coming and I'm hopeful there will be more visits and trips and food and laughter following closely on it's heals.

Handmade Home: Kitchen Edition

Not long ago my friend Ingrid wrote a post about the treasures she has in her home that were made by hands that are dear to her.  It made me take pause.  Inspired, I began to tiptoe through the room I was in (kitchen), peeking in drawers and cupboards, seeking to find generational blessings.

Day to day doesn't often yield thoughts of pleasure over functional wares, yet during this little treasure hunt I found myself in wonderment at times.  

"Hands that never knew me created this for me to use." 

"Hands that love(d) me wanted me to know it in this simple way."

Smiles kept surfacing.

The potholders (clockwise from upper left):  My mama's 1st sewing projects as a little girl.  Made by me about 5 years ago.  My great grandmother, Rachel, for my mama's trousseau.  Great grandmother, Virgie, for my grandmother's trousseau.

 Toweling and cloths:  Mama with old enamel fabric paints.  Malinda's most awesome dishcloths (she learned from her Grandma Judy- J's mom).  Cross stitched border by great grandma, Rachel.

 Clockwise again:  Honey-butter crock made by me in 8th grade and proudly used by my grandparents for the rest of their days.  Platters made for the kids by Mama.  Bowl made by a prisoner that our uncle was friends with - We sent him a letter (the kids too) and he sent this with our uncle to give to us.  Spoon whittled by my grandfather while he was on board the USS Trenton during WWII.

 2 smaller pics on left: Painting done by a very small Mr. Lumpifumpus (Ingrid's son) for my 37th birthday.  Tea tins re-covered for a decorative flair :) by me.
2 side by side: 1st project my grandma did on her brand new treadle machine after she was married.  Paper rose made by a teenage friend, who may as well be family, for my 41st birthday.

Lastly: 3 aprons, each by a different generation.  Grandma's (pink and green), Great Grandma's (light blue), Mama's (pink with flowers).  And the navy checkered on was made for me as a little girl by Great Grandma Rachel. 
  
"It is gently and respectfully amusing to me, the DIY buzz  and idealization of the “meaningful, handmade home,” having grown up as I did on a little hippie farm, surrounded by pet goats, chickens, and voluntary simplicity, during a time when this was not much valued by the mainstream culture. I can’t help but wonder if the same mall-clad middle-school girls who mocked my meaningful, handmade clothes in the ’80s are at this very moment earnestly laboring over hand-knits and trying to tap the trees in their backyard."  ~ Ingrid

Giving the Line Some Slack

I've stepped away.   Nothing was feeling full and vibrant.  There is this deep need tugging at me to find not just rhythms, but rhyme and reason.  To see and feel truth - to get to that level of feeling, deeper than thought, which contains the truth.
I don't want to get to the end of my life and find that I've just lived the length of it.  I want to have lived the width and depth and breadth of it as well.  By the end, I want to feel guilty for my complete happiness & satisfaction.
And, on that note, here is what is taking up the slack:

The sun has blessed the mornings.  Endowing glory.  An element of no real purpose other than to shed warmth and light - Wakening my joy.

 

Hands cupped around steaming mugs we ventured out into the dawning day.  She chatters.  A swift current of stories & giggles as we make our way over thawing ground.

 We look up and all goes still.  Grandeur is perched in our presence.  Awed to whispers.

Home greeted me with more steaming goodness.  There is something remarkable that these grown women have spent their whole lives with me.  That they continue to want to spend life together?  Wonder.

This early thaw outdoors is slowly melting us inwardly.  Kale, mangos, bananas, berries, & spinach are finding themselves being liquified in the blender with increasing frequency. 

 A friend moving to town.  Not that we need an excuse for coffee.  Tastebuds thank me for the coconut milk.  Every. Time.

 New leaves.  The turning over of them - it's occurring ubiquitously.  

 For years long we heard, "When I'm 18 I'm getting a tatoo, piercing my nose, and smoking a pipe!"  18 came 8 months ago.  The only unchecked box is the pipe.  Owned but not yet lit and puffed.

 Blank canvas.

 Guide lines.

 Jimmy Jack.

 Begun.

Aftermath.

 Appetite intact.  Sister's wasn't when she viewed the 'aftermath'.

"P R A Y".  Daily reminder.

 

7:30 - 10 PM.  You aren't seeing things.  A concert at the Ellen, downtown, outside home's 4 walls. Out.  Me.  -  Truth.

& Oh! The gratefulness for the going.  Solas.  "Light".  Entrancing light.
Seamus, Mick, Winn, Eamon, Niamh.  Plans have formed for M to wed an Irishman. 

Afternoons sprawling on the floor, books open, faithful Rumplesnout curled up close. Snoring.  Vibrations transmitting a sense of life.

"That you are here—that life exists, and identity;   
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse." ~Whitman

Life is real! Life is earnest!
   And the grave is not its goal;
"Dust thou art, to dust returnest,"
   Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
   Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
   Finds us farther than to-day.

...

Let us, then, be up and doing,
   With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing
   Learn to labor and to wait.~HW Longfellow 

With a heart for any fate...

Little things: day 11

rest.  sunday's natural rhythm.  the sweet sauce of labor.  it isn't inactivity, but connection - with myself and with those i love.  rest = togetherness.  where stories are told to eager ears, where laughter is the playlist of the day, where the backdrop is ease and the clock has no power.

Little things: day 10

sweet.  maybe i shouldn't have.  but the day... the day was so gray and it was begging for me to give it something to smile about.  when it saw these being rinsed it grinned from ear to ear and went skipping about as if it were summer. 

Little things: day 9

heritage. legacy. portion.  amazing how we gather these to us as we grow and that sense of loss becomes reality.  instilled.  imparted.  given to.  collecting hearts, memories, talents - pieces of lives we have loved and who have loved us.  present in their presence.  their sparkle.  their verve.  alive, still. drawing breath through their endowment.

Little things: day 8

safe.  whooshing and whirling.  the house creaks.  minda's screen whistles and howls as the storms rushes through it.  I made a pot of tea, wrapped myself in downy comfort, and grinned.  unmolested, unscathed. harbored in warmth and stillness.

Little things: day 7

change.  it's looming.  my insides are tangle upon tangle of nerves, anticipation, wonder.  "They will come and declare Him to a people who have yet to believe."

who are you?  

Little things: day 6

simplicity called.  i answered with a resounding, "yes!"  she is often elusive, but today we danced to a sweet, easy rhythm.

Little things: day 5

feeling.  the memory of one, anyway.  hits like an echo.  unsure it was really ever heard or felt. too familiar to have been an illusion.  somewhere, inside, the faintest smile wakes and begins to crawl to the surface.

Little things: day 4

cozified.  quiet. still. even thoughts were muffled.  she came downstairs grinning.  wishes were told of 'staying home', 'biscuits loaded with honey-butter', 'snow eaten by the silver-spoonfuls'.  curling up like a contented feline in the window's sun-castles.  serene sighs escaping.  some wishes came true.

Little things: day 3

sheer delight.  a photo was entirely called for.  we skipped across the street, singing.  giggling.  then, conversations of flying, dreams, and childlike ways of analyzing life.

Little things: day2

together.  it doesn't happen as often as it once did.  when they ask for time my heart skips.  one read a story, aloud.  one bought coffee in giant cups.  a sweetness fell over the rest of the day.

Little things: day 1

the activity blurs my focus.  the moments where heaven seems to break in on my world are so, very welcome.  the day woke with a smiling sun which, in turn, caused a smiling heart.  time stilled.  I heard myself sigh at the clarity.