Top Ten Things to Do as an Auntie

(Bean all bundled up.)

10. Be in awe of your beautiful, strong sister as she calmly takes on motherhood.


9. Giggle a little that at times the Bean's breathing does indeed sound like a CPAP machine.

8. Volunteer for diaper duty.

7. Knit booties.

(Gratuitous bootie shot.)

6. Interrupt dinner-making every 3-4 minutes to kiss these sweet cheeks. (Mid-nap cooing requires an immediate response.)

(When she stretches, she barely fits in this basket, little long-legged girl.)

5. Watch everyone just fall in love with her.

(Bean and her great-grandma.)

(First-time Grandpa.)

4. Wonder how her little ears and her silky, curly-when-just-bathed hair grew so perfectly.

3. Cheer when she kicks, stretches her long legs out straight or focuses her eyes on something for more than a second.

(Bet you wish you had an alligator work-out suit.)

2. Spend inordinate amounts of time in one's pj's.

1. Smell her sweet, sweet baby smell while snuggling with this little bundle napping on my chest.

Welcome to the world baby Bean. This auntie is smitten!

A New Path

Recently, I found myself reflecting on our journey through infertility and the many others who travel this path. I know some of that long and hard road, but now, lightness and peace creep into my heart. I feel comfort and excitement exactly where we are. In a moment of looking back, I know am so very ready to look forward and to own all of this experience as part of my story.

Along the way, I heard a variety of other people's stories. Some shared their own pathway to parenthood when they found out our desires for children. They opened up about their struggles, longings and joys. Those stories almost always felt personal and intimate. They whispered, “Here’s how we got through...(Yes, there is a way through)” and "Keep moving forward". They created a sacred trust and a glance into how varied the road to parenthood can be.

Many, many others told us second-hand stories of miracles, waiting, adoption, failure, medical mysteries, despair and hope. These stories were more difficult, leaving me often overwhelmed or baffled. What was this person, the Universe or God trying to tell me? Could someone else see into my seemingly indiscernible life, like a sorcerer reading runes, or were they oblivious fools prattling on about miracles? I know it was neither really, but at the time, I listened with occasional confusion, anger or fear. I left one ear wide open, hoping to hear the whisper of how our story was going to turn out and blocked the other ear, fingers and fist shoved hard against my head, afraid I just might hear a future I didn’t like.

In a much earlier time, while I prepared to get married, a counselor told me that my path into marriage was bound to be different from the one my parent had trod. I desperately needed to hear that wisdom as I watched my parents approach the precipice of divorce. What a relief to see these years later that she was right. Our marriage has been unique and beautiful. The struggles and the deep joys we experience are ours, belonging to and blessing the two of us.

I wish I better remembered this same advice while listening to the myriad of stories from so many well wishers. Where ever they thought I was (or I imagined they thought I was) at each point in my journey or where it would take me, I never needed to be anywhere other than where I was in each moment. I could listen or dismiss as my heart told me to, without attempting to predict the future. My faith, my uncertainty, my research, my questions, my grief, my hope, even my desperate desire to know how this would all work out...each had its own time and place. Each brought me here, somewhere far different from what I imagined as a young woman.

Now, I would not trade the unique journey or where it brought me. I feel calm facing the fact that I will not bear my own children and a tingling sense of adventure at how our family will be formed. Acceptance showed up last week, an unannounced but welcome friend. Come right on in, I say! Let’s get out the map, dream about new sights, plot the next route and then let's get moving! I am bursting with anticipation for the children we will adopt.

We are going to adopt!!!!

I admit, I don’t know what this next part of our course will be like. Nor do I fully understand what it will mean to me, to my sweetheart or to our children. However, looking back reassures me that we are traveling exactly where we need to be. Wherever adoption leads us, I trust this unique path more fully. As we move forward, we will be guided every step of the way.

Along the way, I promise to tell my myself, my love and my beloved children what each of us needs to hear whatever our struggle, “Have faith and move forward, child. Your story is your own. All your own.”

Generosity

These are the little bits of generosity I saw sprinkled through my day....

- A crook-neck squash, two tomatoes and a green pepper delivered by the gentleman across the street straight from his garden to my grandmother's doorstep, a cane in one hand and bag of fresh-picked produce in the other. What a generous friend!

- A walking path paved on private pasture land for the neighbors to have a nice place to exercise. An extra treat for me as I don't get to walk past lounging cows very often. What a generous neighbor!

- My aunt's open home and a spread of hamburgers, salads, rootbeer floats, homemade cookies and all the fixing compiled by family who gathered for a short-notice barbeque to enjoy one another's company, visit with us out-of-towners and just catch up. What a generous family!

- A little blue bird hanging in my grandmother's window which was custom-made by my cousin's lovely and creative wife. (If you want one too, look here. Aren't they fun?) What a generous gal!

- A stack of blocks-in-progress sewn by Grandma while I cut fabric for my next quilting project. What a generous grandma!

It has been the loveliest of days. What generosity did you see?

Home and Family First

Today, attending to our home and family meant cooking (an easy) dinner* this morning as we were both coming home late and now, corresponding with an artist about a work I'm interested in buying for our home.

Yesterday, it meant having a family home evening with the hubster and then staying up (too) late to help him with a job cover letter.

Sunday, it meant staying home to write and reflect on what's being neglected.

These are some of the little things that said "family first" to me this week. What little things say it to you?

*I can't not share the easy dinner idea, right?

Mom's Taco Soup

In blender, liquify:
1 Qt stewed tomatoes (I used a 28 oz can of crushed tomatoes)
1 Qt water
3 Tbs bouillon (or 3 cubes...or use part/all chicken broth in place of water)
1 tsp chili powder
Other spices to taste (cumin, paprika, garlic, cayenne pepper)

Heat soup until hot. (You want it hot enough to melt the cheese you'll add to your bowl...yum!)

Serve with:
Chopped tomato
Chopped green onion
Cubed cheddar cheese
Chopped avocado
Crushed tortilla chips

Enjoy! 'Night my lovely friends!

Homecoming Queen, 2010

(or the post in which I eat my own words)

My senior year of high school, I didn't exactly think my involvement in the debate and environmental studies clubs garnered me huge popularity points, but somehow I found myself on the receiving end of a senior girl's highest honor, a homecoming queen nomination.

Most of the details of the nomination process, election and homecoming week are fuzzy memories, but the coronation assembly before the big homecoming game and dance flashes like a bright neon sign among my high school memories. The big event involved cheerleaders cheering, Madrigals (both current and alum) singing traditional school songs, skits by the students body officers and school produced videos full of exciting football moments and rousing school spirit. The crowning moment was the processional of the homecoming royalty nominees and the announcement of that year's queen.

There we were, lined up at the back of the darkened auditorium, waiting for our names to be called. In turn, each of us was escorted down the aisle to the stage while we were introduced to the student body. Our glowing high school curricula vitae and hopeful future plans were read aloud to sentimental music as we promenaded past our peers. I knew the vast majority of my little biography would be about school, because, well, we were in school and I planned on attending more school once I graduated. The other nominees were bright, accomplished young women. Their service to the school as student body officers and cheerleaders, then their college plans and future careers were all mentioned. For some, there was also mention of desires to have a family or to go on a mission.

Then there it was, read aloud to an entire student body in our homecoming assembly, tucked in among the lists of choir achievements, parts in the school play and college plans. One girl hoped to be, and I quote, a "mother in Zion".

I was dumbstruck. Zion as an ideal spiritual society was part of the religious lexicon of Sunday school lessons, but there in the midst of a contest that was essentially a popularity election? Shocked, I couldn't process it. It seemed out of place and not a goal worthy of mentioning. Sure, we were going to be mothers some day, but didn't she know that when some one asked her about her plans for the future, they were asking about her secular life...what she was going to study, make of herself, and do in the future? Where were her dreams, her ambitions? This mother in Zion business seemed such a limited view of her future and the world.

Fast forward quite a few years. I moved away from home, graduated from college, moved further away to a city I love, pursued a career in my own meandering way, married, traveled and experienced a bit of corporate success in an unexpected second career. Through the midst of it, the desire for children grew gradually and persistently but has been repeatedly frustrated. Time and time again, this challenge drew my focus to home and family. Used to looking out into the big wide world to justify my identity, purpose, strengths and success, looking inward and homeward was often uncomfortable and uncertain.

Recently though, something has shifted. I feel a growing excitement and purposefulness about nurturing the life that is centered around my own hearth. Now, not only do I want to care for my relationship with my husband and prepare for future children, I see it as extremely fulfilling work. I am excited to focus on meeting the needs of our little family of two and preparing to care for an expanding family. I want to learn how our home can be organized, peaceful, and supportive of growth. I want our spiritual life to be vibrant and strong, our meals to be nourishing, our recreation to be rejuvenating, our space to be welcoming. Simply put, I want to create a bit of Zion here in our little apartment.

Oh, the delightful irony. My seventeen year old self saw that vision as limiting, short sighted and even out of place. Now, I see it as possibly the most freeing, meaningful thing I can engage in. The effects of a well managed home and a cared for family are not out of place in the real world, but intimately woven into a family's and its individual member's successes in that world.

So, I take it back. I too want to be a mother in Zion. I want to learn all that entails from organizing and cleaning to nurturing emotional development, from preparing healthy meals to creating family time, from wise financial planning to having a deep, soulful marriage. All of this feels like deep and sacred work. I want to embrace it, share it, and write about it here.

And if, along the way, this focus on decorating, refreshments and cheering for the home team wins me a Homecoming Queen crown, who am I to complain?

Contentment in a Pie Plate

When hubster was first called to serve in the Spanish-speaking congregation 2 years ago, we had an open house the weekend after Thanksgiving to get to know people. This year, we decided to do a repeat to socialize with the same people, who are now our friends.

I started making pie baking plans. Easy ones, like cream cheese and ice cream pies. Standards, like apple and pumpkin. Cream pies and fruit pies. Pies with meringue topping and those with whipped cream topping. Perhaps a tart or two. Old family recipes and new experiments. 20 pies was my goal.


Two years ago, my busy, anxious baking dervish had gone crazy making all kinds of cakes, breads and cookies. It was productive, fun even (in a challenging, adrenaline rush way) but flavored throughout by the ongoing theme song of anxiety. Would we have enough? Would they like any of my American desserts, breads and cookies? Would they be offended by the lack of "real" food (no meat or rice or beans), or by my horrible Spanish, or by our home, or by a gringo serving the congregation? Would they see the places I hadn't scrubbed? Would we have enough chairs? All these things keeping me in an mild (to not so mild) state of distress while I prepare to supposedly open my heart and home to new people.

As I started rolling out my first pie crusts this year, I felt those familiar feelings creeping in. This needed to be cleaned, that needed to be baked, this needed to be bought, that needed to be prepared, etc. etc. etc. And the what if's. Then I stopped.

I like making pies. I reminded myself again. I like this. When do I get to spend two whole days making pies??? And so I decided to enjoy it.

I started humming Patty Griffin. I thought of all the memories I have of making pies with my dad and my sister. I thought of how many pies we used to make together at Thanksgiving. I let myself try new recipes. I stopped to play a rocking drum solo or two with my honey on his new toy. I enjoyed eating out on Friday night at a favorite greasy spoon burger place, rather than rushing home to bake some more. I let myself go to bed when it was time.

I didn't make 20 pies.

And all of it? It was lovely. The pies. Time baking. New recipes. The feeling between me and my husband. Time with friends. Doing something I love. Holding cute babies. Laughing at the boy who hid out under the table, emerging only for another slice of apple pie. Meeting a couple recently baptized. Being invited to a guest's house for dinner this week. Listening to a five-year old's reading of "Where the Wild Things Are".

It felt good to truly open my heart, relax and just enjoy.

How do you find contentment?

(Sour Cream Apple Crumb & Dad's Famous Apple Pie)

If you'd like to enjoy my new favorite pie (an experiment that worked, yeah!), here's the recipe:

Sour Cream Apple Crumb Pie

For crust:
1 1/2 cups flour
1/2 tsp salt
1/3 cup unsalted butter, cold
Ice-cold water

For filling:
6-8 apples (preferably Mutsu/Crispin, Ida Reds or Granny Smith)
1 cup sugar (or less if you like a bit of tartness in your pie!)
2 Tbls flour
Cinnamon
Nutmeg
1 cup sour cream

Crumb topping:
1/2 cup flour
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup chopped pecans
3 Tbls butter

Prepare crust: Mix flour and salt. Cut in butter to make course crumbs. Gradually add just enough water to form larger clumps of dough, while stirring with a fork. You want the dough to stick together when clumped by hand, but not be overly wet. The drier the dough, the flakier your crust. Form into large disk with your hands and then roll out on a well floured cutting board, making repairs to the edges as you go. Transfer to pie plate, flute edges as desired and trim off excess dough.

Prepare filling: Peel, core and slice apples. Add sugar, flour, cinnamon and nutmeg. Stir 'til evenly coated. Add sourcream. Stir thoroughly. Pour apples into crust.

Prepare topping: Mix flour and brown sugar. Cut in butter to make course crumbs. Stir in pecans. Pour evenly on top of apples.

Cover edges of crust with foil. (Next time I think I'll try covering the entire crumb topping with foil for part of the baking time or chop my pecans smaller. The exposed edges of my pecans burned!)

Bake at 400 for 40-50 minutes. Let cool before serving for the filling to set. Enjoy, preferably with ice cream!

Creating Abundance and Grandma's Rolls

Last month at my grandmother's funeral, the most frequently used word by the speakers was almost certainly "frugal". Grandma was known for saving all kinds of things for re-use: twisty-ties, bread bags, disposable plastic cups, styrofoam trays used to package meat, wrapping paper. She was teased about it from time to time, yet all of us recognized she lived through a time when you didn't take throwing something away lightly. If it was useful, it got used.

As we talked together in the following days, Grandpa wanted us to really understand her Depression experiences that laid the foundation for frugality. Grandma's family was extremely poor. With no job and a large family, her father struggled constantly to make sure they were all fed. During high school, Grandma had just one dress that she washed and hung every night to dry for the next day of school, putting up with occasionally snide comments from other girls in new new matching sweater sets. She always knew college wouldn't be possible, due to lack of financial resources not academic ability. She learned to make do with what she had and to make other plans when necessary. She learned how to care of things and make them last. She learned the importance of high quality and always worked to create things of excellence. Frugality was part of survival.

A life like this, of altered dreams and doing without, could make one miserly and bitter, but that's not what happened. She chose something different. As the stories others shared and my own memories flood my mind, it is her generosity that stands out to me. She took her impoverished background and created abundance for the people in her life.

• One son shared a memory of watching her willingly prepare and pack a full lunch for a local beggar, simply because he knocked and asked.
  
• Neighbors told of times she brought over food when they were in need.
  
• While home, we slept under a faux fur throw, a remnant of the many "softs" she made her children and grandchildren.
  
• After the funeral, we flipped through photo albums she put together of reunion after reunion where her love for her grandchildren was shown through creating: sewing personalized aprons, leading rock painting activities, or running a family Olympics complete with opening ceremony parades.
  
• I remembered one of her letters from when she was serving alongside my grandfather over a mission in Michigan. She told of the dozens upon dozens of Christmas care packages she made for each of the many missionaries serving with them, packages I knew from the many years she sent them to us.
  
• Her daughter reminisced about her talents as a seamstress. She couldn't remember a single dress, blouse or skirt she owned as a child that wasn't made by her mother.
  
• I shared the story of her careful work assisting on my junior prom dress when we were behind schedule. She sewed meticulously even when I wanted to rush because, um, my date was waiting while it was finished.

Amidst all of these stories and memories, one of Grandpa's comments said it all: her background made her empathetic to the suffering of others. When she saw some one lacking, she sought ways to share with them. When they were down, she sought ways to reach out a lifting hand. Within her family, she made consistent efforts to provide us the best of comfort, nourishment, creativity, beauty and enjoyment. While her life was not one of dramatic public accomplishments, the work of caring for the people around her will always be remarkable to me. I am honored to have known her and to have seen the ways she created abundance.

Today, it felt appropriate to attempt her family-famous rolls for the first time. Her Thanksgiving dinners were always delicious and these rolls were divine. I really struggled through this first attempt, not sure how to work with such unwieldy dough, and yet, I loved every minute of it. It felt like an honor to her legacy of creating bounty for the people you care about.

Hope you feel blessed with abundance this Thanksgiving, including good food.

Grandma's Parker House Rolls

Dissolve in a small bowl:
2 pkgs. yeast (4 1/2 tsp)
1 1/2 cups lukewarm water

Dissolve:
1/2 cup sugar
4 tsp. salt
1 cup scalded milk

When cool, combine mixtures. Add:
4 cups flour
2 eggs
1/4 cup veg. oil

Stir well, then add:
3 3/4 cups sifted flour

Mix well with large spoon, not a mixer. Let rise covered, until double (about 2 hours).

Melt several tablespoons of butter and set aside. Punch down dough with a spoon. Pour (yes, pour) about half of the dough onto very well floured bread board. Sprinkle generously with flour to prevent sticking. Roll to about 1/3 inch thick. Cut rolls with biscuit cutter, score gently with a knife and brush with butter along the crease. Fold in half, pressing the round edge together and transfer to a greased cookie sheet. Lightly brush with melted butter. Let raise until doubled again (about 1 hour). Bake at 400 for 10 minutes. Brush tops with unmelted butter.

The secret to these light rolls is not using too much flour and not handling the dough too much.

Her final, somewhat deceptive notes? "They are so easy to make - just stir them up - raise - roll out and bake. SO SIMPLE!" I think it should say "So STICKY! but worth it!" Mine need a bit of work to find the right balance, but I think I have a few years before I have to have them "Grandma perfect".

True Wealth

Every now and then, my dad calls to tell me how rich he is.

This is the same man who periodically reminds me that he's trying to figure out how to be born to wealthy parents so he'll be set for life, so you can rest assured he's not talking about an investment portfolio or bank balance. No, when my dad says he's rich, it usually means he has an abundance of some delicious food at home, often stockpiled in the freezer.

Maybe live crawfish mailed in from Louisiana, just for a crawfish boil with his daughters.


Or enough of the best Utah peaches (yes, he has copious notes from various taste tests to prove it) in his freezer to provide peaches on his oatmeal all winter long.

Or the first strawberries ripening on the variety he read has the best strawberry flavor ever, but can't be commercially grown because they deteriorate too quickly. (For best results, pop it straight in your mouth once picked.)

(His strawberry starters.)

Yes, when my dad says he's rich, it almost certainly means food, and lots of it.

So tonight, I feel rich to have lots of my favorite, favorite crackers (recipe here) warm out of the oven.

Note: Even with a double batch, I think they're going to disappear quickly. I may have possibly eaten half a baking sheet since starting this post.

Hiking the Hudson...

What I want to remember about today:

That I really wanted to go hiking and we made it happen, in spite of... having to bail on the early hike, missing the train to the later hike, rushing back home for our hiking book and nearly missing the next train, and then discovering that the last train to our hiking destination was the one we missed. Grrrrrr.......but I remember thinking "it's going to be ok" and it was better than ok.

Going up....and up....and up...

Breakneck Ridge

All of the people scrambling up the rocks with us. Everyone seemed to be out on this gorgeous fall day!

Watching the mile-long train across the river, (or was it only a half-mile? a lively debate ensued), while eating a morning snack of bananas and Oreos.

Lots of talking with husband-o, as always...then a bit of solitude on the wooded trail heading back. Nice to stop for a chat, a hug and a reminder to root for the home team!

Go team!

The lonely, lovely stone architecture left from an abandoned dairy, especially all the arches of what must have been a beautiful, large multi-story home.

The light on the stream, the sun shining through the trees, the layers of color...sky, mountain, foliage...

The sugar maple leaves in town. (Right, Alexis? Sugar maples?)


Hot chocolate in town before we headed home, tangy-sweet Ida Red apples with ricotta salata cheese and watching the sun set over the Hudson.

What do you want to remember about this weekend?

M.I.A.

I can't believe it's been 3 weeks since I posted here! Life just came up and living it was more important than blogging about it. This time has been.

Delightful...

...sewing with V & Shelly. Honestly, playing in Victoria's scraps and getting machine quilting tips from the amazing Shelly??? Fantastic fun! What inspiring gals! Thanks for letting me crash the party!

Bittersweet...

...going home for my grandmother's funeral. After many years with Alzheimer's it is a relief to know she is no longer suffering, but hard to know she is now completely gone from us, especially from my grandfather. It was wonderful to celebrate the wonderful woman she was and to gather with family (including my sister, who's been in the Caribbean! Hooray!!!).

Purposeful....

spending some time focusing on my home, including printing and hanging photos I like.

Creative....

plugging away on unfinished projects, a bit of sewing, some knitting.

Adventurous....

...going from this...

...to this.....

I think I'll be knitting more warm scarves to keep my bare neck warm this winter! Oooooh, it's chilly!

Reflective....

...attending a women's group, reading great books, talking to loved ones, writing in my journal a lot and thinking about the changes I am seeking. Good me time.

In any event, I'm home again, missing blogging and thinking of you all!

Life these days

I realized why I've felt a disconnect between my life and the things I typically share on my blog. I'm just not in a very project-y, "life is good, let me show you the pictures" kind of place right now. Yes, I have been crafting and sewing and shopping and cooking and homemaking and visiting inspiring places, but underneath is grief and some upheaval of purpose that seems to keep me from posting about those things.

Last year, when I started making more conscious efforts to focus on what matters most in my life, it felt connected to my preparations for motherhood. I chose to slow down, be home more, focus on family. I said no to projects and simplified the projects I did do. It often ran against my grain, but I felt it was important, part of a higher purpose. I hoped, assumed even, that this time of change would seamlessly blend into pregnancy and motherhood, but it did not. Now, in the midst of that heartache, I sense the need to continue these difficult changes anyway.

So, I'm doing it. I'm working on my daily living. I'm thinking about my marriage, my home, my spirituality, my creativity, my health, my future and trying to care for those things. I'm starting to think that consistency matters far more than I've ever cared to acknowledge and (begrudgingly, at times) trying to learn how to be consistent.

Bleh, it sure feels boring at times. I don't want to blog about boring! You certainly don't need to see the daily stack of clean dishes on my counter (though having the stack be clean on a regular basis is definitely new around here). And I don't want to blog incessantly about heartache, although there are days when I feel chin deep in it. But I do want to blog about life and what my life is. So for now, that it occasionally means sharing some slogging and working through change. Bare* with me, I know the changes will also bring beauty I promise to share too!

*This is why I need an editor. (J.B., you've got the job!) This was not intended to be an invitation to go skinny dipping. Although skinny dipping with all of you lovely bloggers would probably bring a bit of beauty to the world, it would simply be one more thing I wouldn't photograph. This isn't one of those sites.

Foundations of a good marriage

Husband-o: (Eying the last bite of sandwich in one hand and his last chip in the other...serious internal debate occurring.) Which one should be the last bite?

Me: The sandwich. (Pointing to the still 1/2 full bag of chips on the table.) If that's just not satisfying, there are still more chips to munch.

H.: (Smiling.) Brilliant.

Me: Aren't you glad you married me?

H.: You enrich my life every day.

Yes, indeed.

I'm Home...

making tortillas...

airing out camping gear...

auditioning fabric for a quilt back...



laughing at my funny cleavage tan
(ummm..my swimsuit might have cut just a bit lower than my sunscreen coverage did)...

and missing my family.

Have sunglasses...will travel

Husbando is finished with his grad school program (Wahoooooooo!) and so we're heading off for a little va-cay with the familia. I'll be scarce around these parts for a while. Hope you are getting in some good-time summer fun yourself.

¡Ciao!

p.s. Fear not Ms. V...the Pixie Dust block is all planned and will be sewn up lickety-split upon my return. I haven't forgotten you!!!

On Hiatus

I'm waiting up for hermanacita to arrive from the airport.

She sympathizes with life sucking.

She's also pretty adorable.

Once she gets here, we'll have lots of chatting, picnic-ing, shopping, cupcake-ing and sitting on the couch in our pj's until everything is right in the world again-ing to do. So, I don't think I'll be around these parts much. However, since she is also a big fan of silly, can I leave you one of my all-time favorite silly t.v. clips?

I'll see you in a week...

p.s. Thank you for all your kind thoughts, hugs and well wishes. It's good to be a honest about what's going on in the rest of my life and be supported. Hugs right back to all of you!!!

Getting through

To say the last few weeks have been hard would be an understatement. Another setback on our journey to parenthood leaves my emotions reeling. Yet in the midst of this, the tears and the painful days, I am getting through. How? "How am I ok?" I ask myself.

While Mr. CK, my family and my faith are bedrock during the worst of it, noticing the small and simple things is day to day survival. Perhaps it is the coming together of the Buddist idea mindfulness, the "tender mercies" talked about David Bednar and this blogging community's focus on honoring everyday beauty. (So a Buddist monk, a Mormon apostle and a blogger walk into a bad day....?)

In any event, since this is a place for recognizing the beauty in my life, here a few of "the very personal and individualized blessings, strength, protection, assurances, guidance, loving-kindnesses, consolation, support, and spiritual gifts" I've received this past few weeks:

peonies on my kitchen table (inspired by bloggy friends)...

an invitation for tea...

time to create...

(A mad mess of strippy scraps sewn up into 16 lovely blocks.)

a virtual hug....

a visit to the Botanic garden with a friend....

texts, e-mails, lunch hour visits...

things that make me laugh...

(Is it appropriate to notate seminary honor roll achievements (aka diligent attendance at 6:30 am religion class) with symbols that look like cartoon expletives???)

(R. reigning in her desire to chase the bunny in the garden...)

(...and almost succeeding!)

a few new plants for my window sill...


blogging to reflect on it all...

Thank you for being part of my tender mercies.

M.F.E.O.

It is official. Mr. Kent and I are made for each other. Remember his idea of a perfect dinner?

Well, here is my deliciously balanced breakfast from this morning:

Yes, we love our veggies and fruits. We eat lentils and beans and greens. But deep down, deep down, we are united in honoring our family motto:

Eat Dessert!

And so we do.

Connecting with home

I've spent more than ten years in the big city, away from my family and many dear friends. I totally dig living in NYC, but lately I've longed for my loved ones back home. Seeing them, catching up with them, hugging them and laughing with them earlier this month filled me up to overflowing! I felt so strengthened and reassured in my current path. Knowing they love me made me feel full of joy.

Want to meet some of the people I love?

My beautiful mom, who roots for me always, even when following my dreams takes me far, far away, and hermanacita, who makes me laugh, laugh, laugh....

My crawfish (even though spell-check insists it's crayfish) cooking Papa-Bear....(oh I need to post about our crawfish boil! What fun it was!!!)....

The Four A's (re-nicknamed the A-team on this trip) who were my constant high school confidantes, cheerleaders and conspirators....

My best college friend, who gives the most awesome hugs....

Sisters and mothers and in-laws....

A New York friend who is out West for college. She is delightfully smart, extremely funny and great company....


My grandpa, who is so deeply devoted to my grandma, even through her Alzheimers, and my grandma who I still love talking with....

My other grandma, who inspired me to start quilting and taught me how to bake a good loaf of bread...

A (2nd?) cousin (once removed?) who is my age and used to be a favorite playmate and pen pal. So fun to get back in touch....

And Hhhh-era, who has the most fabulous wit and had the gall to move to a place where you are worried about snakes and scorpions instead of subway rats and yappy dogs...

(Ok, this pic of us is several years old, but I was silly and didn't take a picture of us together this trip!)

And still, there are so many more people I wish I'd been able to see! (You could come to Women's Conference next year, you know! :) I guess it just gives me lunch dates and cousin barbeque's to look forward to this summer! I'm so grateful I'm connected to these people! They love me and pray for me...I can feel it!

Who fills you with joy and makes you feel loved?