Meet Maggie

 

We had already been discussing another dog. After all, maybe Millie could do with a pal, right? I contacted a local rescue and considered a few dogs but none seemed right. Then we got a call. A relative was housing a wiggly Yorkie-mix puppy but could we please take her? 

Turns out, the puppy had been trotting up and down a nearby road, and when followed, she took off towards what appeared to be an abandoned house. But it wasn't. An old man lived there and yelled at the puppy rescuers to take the dog, I don't want it. So they did.

She had a broken back leg. She was cold. And she was severely malnourished. We took her on the spot. 

Meet Maggie.

Once home, Maggie slept by the food bowl. It took several days for her to realize that the food would be there, always, and she didn't have to eat herself to sleep. It was heartbreaking. I carried her around like a baby. And while Millie initially avoided her, Maggie didn't let it deter her. She followed Millie everywhere. Millie's begrudgingly come to accept that her little shadow is here to stay. 

The leg's doing better. It didn't require extensive surgery, for which we were relieved. The veterinary surgeon is pleased with the "function" of the leg and aside from it being crooked, you can't tell she was ever injured.

And boy, is she rambunctious. The silly thing loves to be outside. Yesterday, after letting her out and not hearing from her after 10 minutes, I went looking. She was in the yet-untouched part of our yard, digging.

Busted.

I just discovered this little rascal is the source of that mysterious pile of dirt we saw the night before. But how can I be mad at this?:
 

How, indeed?

Little dog, you've been given a second chance. Welcome home.

 Love animal stories? Read another and Meet Millie here.

This, The Other Typist

Y'all. Help.

Have you read this book? This, The Other Typist? This bewildering, infuriating, utterly fascinating novel?

It's been several weeks since I first heard of Suzanne Rindell's first (and thus far, only) book. I considered buying it but decided against it; don't I have more important things to read right now? But over my birthday weekend, I relented. I bought this... this...  I don't know. This, The Other Typist.

At first, you're sort of reading it and thinking about what you'll have for dinner. And that you really should paint your nails because, gaw, they look terrible. The next thing you know, you're flipping pages like you're searching for a number in a phone book. You're scowling at anyone/thing who dare interrupts. You care about the characters, but then again not really. You sympathize with them, but then not at all. You totally know what's coming, and then... what?!! Is my copy missing pages?! It's over LIKE THAT?!

I have never been so astonished-frustrated-delighted-taken with a book's conclusion in my life.

You should know, if you haven't ventured it yet, that The Other Typist is one of those unreliable narrator reads. Like The Lace Reader, which I adored. And apparently like Gone Girl, but I haven't gone there. To me, this book is Half Broken Things meets The Lace Reader. In other words, dark and perplexing and utterly stand-alone in a room full of books. If you like that sort of read.

And word is, Keira Knightley is producing and starring in the upcoming movie. It's been "in development" since January.

So... again: help. Have you read it? And what did you think? I have a theory, but I'll save it for the comments.

The Tater Tower

 

Awhile back, I read an article on Apartment Therapy titled How To Grow 100 Pounds of Potatoes in 4 Square Feet. Surrre, I snorted. As if.

Then I went out and got materials to build two of them. (Duh.)

First off, my days of planting long, gorgeous, scenic rows of potatoes are... on hold. I live in a cozy little house on an old street with a small, chain link-fenced back yard. The yard had a few existing beds, but this spring we added two more so that now the entire yard is bordered by deep beds. Our landlord isn't crazy about the idea of raised beds. We made do.

Enter the TATER TOWER, as I've come to call them.

It's a simple premise: you cut and screw wood together to make a square frame. Add one level, your potatoes, some soil/compost/whatever, and wait. When the potatoes emerge and grow above that layer, add another level of boards, some soil, eventually more potatoes... and repeat.

As you can see, our tower is on its third level and definitely needs another level, stat.

I was too slow to the feed store this year to buy seed potatoes. Down here in our extremely rural, economically depressed area, lots of people are growing their own food now. Feed and supply stores aren't keeping up with demand. So instead of missing out, I thickly peeled potatoes that were sprouting, leaving about a half-inch of potato attached to the skin. I let them hang out over night and then planted.

Hello, 100 pounds of potatoes. (I hope.)

Did you know you could do that? Plant thick potato peelings and get your own taters back? Cool, right? So cool.

But our grown-from-peels taters aren't alone. Our cabbage is already yummy:

 That was actually three weeks ago and it's nearly ready to harvest now. 

And check out my peas! I noticed the first pods yesterday and garden geeked out over them:

Ah yes. It just isn't spring until you see a little green. Don't throw out those sprouting potato peels this year!

Monday Moment: Those Beneath Their Loads

 The LORD helps the fallen and lifts those bent beneath their loads.

-Psalm 145:14

I wasn't one of the many today who waited for sunrise so I could see what was left of my house. Or town. Yesterday's storms boomed, flashed and wailed but ultimately raged over me, headed north to inflict damage and carve a path through someone else's life. The weight of my relief is offset by the weight of my horror at what others are facing this morning.

Sunrise today caused me to reflect on these past few years that have been so... deep... and deeply overwhelming... in my life. Realization has set in that all those circumstances were allowed so I would answer one question- so I would plumb the very depths of me and resolve this: Is God good?

It was necessary for me to answer that... to spend a few years with that question... before I was allowed to move on with my life. Something unseen, some things yet to happen, necessitated a response one way or the other. Come on, Brin: is God good? Do you really believe that God is here and He is good? In the midst of devastation and shaking and hunger and war and loss, will you be able to climb above it all and lift your hands and shout with conviction into the roaring chaos: 'Though the mountains be shaken, and the hills be removed, His unfailing love for us will never be shaken, and His covenant of peace will never be removed, says the Lord, who has compassion on us'?

Time. It took time. But here I am, today, settled in my soul: God is good. Better than we know. And if He promises to help the fallen and lift up those bent beneath their loads, He will. He just will. Why? Because He is good and because He keeps His promises.

So to those who will never be the same after today, I'm climbing to the highest place I know and lifting my hands and shouting into your roaring chaos and heartbreak and loss: Although everything has shaken and so much has been removed, God's unfailing love for you is as steady as ever, and His peace and compassion for you will never be shaken.

While it might not seem so today, God is good. And He will help the fallen and lift you up when you're bent beneath your loads. He promised, and He will be faithful to do it.

You have our hearts and prayers today.  -Brin

Monday Moment is a little humble little devotional to help kick start your week. See you again next Monday!

The Super Food for a Super Supper

Omgoodness. What is it with so many of us coming down with cancer these days? Not cool. Not cool at all. Something must be done.

Enter Lacinto kale, otherwise known as one of the top "super foods", cancer fighters, and The Green Thing That Makes An Appearance Once A Day Now On Our Table. This stuff is delicious, quick to cook, and practically grows itself. Really. 

Wednesday evening, in lieu of... anything else, I harvested, blanched, and froze a bumper crop of kale. Took us a few hours, but with his superb chopping skills and my so-so washing-and-dunking-in-boiling-water-and-freezing skills, we were done. It was so worth it. Yesterday after a long day of work, I browned Italian turkey sausage, onions, celery, garlic and red pepper flakes in a big soup pot, and then added a few crushed tomatoes and chicken stock and herbs. I simmered that for 20 minutes and dumped in a few handfuls of our kale and some white beans... and woohoo! Supper!

While we're scanning real estate sites and hoping to buy a small country place soon, for now we're living in the city, about three blocks from the local college. Our little fenced yard already had deep existing flower beds, but we've added two more and are planting them full of food. And a few flowers and herbs. But mostly food. And honestly, they're quite pretty.

If you have the means, hop on over to Seed Savers and snag some seeds so you can be ready to plant in a few months. Or look for it in the store or farmer's market or CSA or wherever you find produce. I promise you'll be glad you did.

It's time we show this cancer nonsense who's boss, eh?

Happy weekend!  -Brin

Update: Oh! If you're looking for a good tutorial on how to deal with all your super kale, go here. This is how I learned to do it and the clearest I've seen it explained. Enjoy! 

How A Rose Became Evidence

When you see a building, you're seeing the mind of the architect built to form.
When you see a painting, you're glimpsing the artist's emotions rendered and displayed.
When you skim a page, you're reading the writer's thoughts printed out.
And when you pick a rose, you're beholding the Creator's beauty brought to life.

The Bible says creation is evidence of a Creator. Evidence. Proof. In fact, it says that God's divine attributes are on display from what's been made. And it makes sense. I mean, we eat something yummy at work and ask, Who made this?. We hear a good song and wonder, Who sings this?. We come in to a huge mess and we yell, WHO DID THIS?!. (Right?) So why can't we look at a rose and ask the same question we ask about everything else: Who is responsible for this?.

I've asked, and I'm confident in where I've landed. You are, Creator God. I'm pretty sure You are. And You did a breathtaking job.

Nice work on the roses. They seem especially beautiful this year. I love them. If I could, I would tuck one into your lapel and You could wear it all day and know I'm thinking of You.  -Brin

Millie, The Heart Catcher

What is it about dogs that completely catch our hearts and hold us captive? 
 

For the many who have asked, I want you to know that the Much Beloved Millie is doing well. She's still rounding up and catching hearts, giving a new meaning to the term dog catcher. The old girl is six now. Six in March. Ever the fan of riding in the back and trotting after tennis balls and trying to sneak things off kitchen counters.

She has me trained to give her string cheese on command. A week or two ago, I bought one of those jumbo packages of string cheese and shoved it towards the back of the fridge. Ha. They found it in no time. 

Me: [Looking intently in fridge]  Hey! Where in the world is all that string cheese we just bought?

Him: ... Well... it wasn't that much. But... uh... ask Millie. [Points toward the corner of the kitchen where she's sitting.]

[Millie wags her tail.]

She seems to be adjusting to all the changes fairly well. I say "all the changes" because back in February, we adopted Maggie, a tiny Yorkshire Terrier mix that was rescued off the street. She came to us severely malnourished, dehydrated and dangling a broken leg. We loved her instantly, even if Millie took a week or two to adjust.

So Millie and Maggie. Quite the pair. I'll round up the now-rambunctious Mags soon and introduce you. You'll adore her.

But first, Millie. I appreciate y'all asking about her. She sends her love but says she will keep your heart, thank you very much.

Life Begins Again

lowers grow out of dark moments.

Corita Kent

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/flowers_3.html#71C2OUqFtWiJGDlo.99Flowers grow out of dark moments.

I am going to try to pay attention to the spring. I am going to look around at all the flowers, and look up at the hectic trees. I am going to close my eyes and listen.

Anne Lamott

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/flowers_2.html#O2lKvaYgJ6dfwBTq.99

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/flowers_2.html#O2lKvaYgJ6dfwBTq.99

Flowers grow out of dark moments.

-Corita Kent   

 Every spring as I plant my seeds, I hesitate. Is it too cold? Too wet? Will there be enough sun and enough warmth to coax these dead-looking pieces to life? And somehow, always, the hard seeds respond, and life begins again.

Life begins again.

I spent my 35th birthday at a painting class, swirling watercolors around thick paper and trying to make it look like a sunflower. But not just any sunflower. I wanted the sunflower to look like me- a little bent, a little weepy- but still glowing and open and alive. A broken hallelujah kind of a flower. After the class was over, I drove home in the pouring rain and thought about my own broken hallelujah kind of life. What's done is done. I cannot change a single decision or dime or day. Parts of my heart bolted and went to seed- Freeman House, the bakery, traveling, some relationships, some dreams- but as they died they left me with seeds. Seeds to plant. Seeds to prove that life begins again.

And so it has. I went to the store and bought my own small set of watercolor paints and brushes. Why? Because we live in a world created by the Second Chance God, where death begets life and endings are just beginnings and broken hallelujahs are sometimes more beautiful than the perfect ones.

Life begins again. Let this be my painting to the world.  

Hello again. -Brin

The Ruddy Autumn Wedding

 In the season of white wild roses
We two went hand in hand:
But now in the ruddy autumn
Together already we stand.
-Francis Turner Palgrave

Keep some room in your heart

for the unimaginable.

 -Mary Oliver

A woman seldom asks advice

before she has bought her wedding clothes.

-Joseph Addison

I've bought my wedding dress. Just like that. I woke up this morning, was piddling on my iPhone, and came across an article that linked up several sites to score beautiful, budget-friendly wedding gowns. And then, there she was: my dress.

There was one left.

It was my size. (Or... the size I should order based on the reviews.)

It was 30% off.

I've bought my wedding dress!

Post Pilgrimage: Slow, Gathered, and Grown

As I make my slow pilgrimage through the world, 

a certain sense of beautiful mystery

seems to gather and grow. 

- A.C. Benson

I went out to the garden, picked basil, and came in and made pesto last night. 

It was a hot, tiring week in Houston. I was sent there Sunday for a 4-day conference in a giant glass building with fast elevators. The pace was all wrong- too fast and frantic, then boring and blah. The hotel (didn't I used to enjoy them?) was impersonal and loud. The presentations were slick but slow. The traffic set me on edge. I felt out of place all week, and when I got in the rental car to make the drive home, I nearly cried out with relief.

I got home, went out to the garden, picked basil, and made pesto. Then I smeared it over chicken, potatoes, peppers... whatever, didn't matter... and set the table. Then I lit candles and opened a bottle of wine for friends and we filled our plates and everything was okay again.

Pilgrimages around the world are great, but I like them slow with gathered and grown dinners and flickering candles at the end. 

 Beautiful mystery optional. 

Chapter One of the Great Story

Now at last they were 

beginning Chapter One

of the Great Story

no one on earth

has ever read,

which goes on forever:

in which every chapter

is better than the one before.

-C.S. Lewis

 

 Source

If you follow my ever-growing Pinterest boards, you've probably guessed my secret: I am getting married.  

I am getting married!

Our story is, as you'd expect, thrilling. Moving. And deeply, deeply beautiful. At least, we think so. Do you know what it is to have found the one God has for you? It is transforming. It is freeing. It leaves you with the profound sense of being utterly loved- not just by the one who's holding your hand, but by the One who's been holding your heart... moving, waiting, loving...

I am getting married!

We are excited to tell our story and share our experience(s). For now, we are planning a fall wedding stuffed with all the lovely people, music, candles and flowers we can pull off. Since I will have six months to plan this wedding, it's going to require every bit of creativity and DIY projects I can manage. Yipes!

For those who've asked, the cabin project is on hold for a year or two- until we can tackle it together- and we've decided to relocate it to a former national wilderness property where we own five acres. He wants to get a goat or two. I want more chickens. We both want to start a family. But for now, we're dreaming of a wedding day, making a home for two, and starting our Great Story.

I am getting married! -Brin

 The ache for home lives in all of us,

 the safe place where we can go as we are 

and not be questioned.
-Maya Angelou

 

I love that: the idea of home as a safe place where I am not questioned. Today I'm longing for such a place! (There's a huge back story that I'll skip here. You're glad for that, trust me.)

So. News! The bathroom in my little place is framed and ready for electrical, plumbing, walls and floors. And fixtures. Lighting. Tile, perhaps. Then mirrors, rugs, and decorations. In other words, I've barely begun. But it's so much fun working on this little place!

I am more excited about the cabin than ever. Seeing walls going up is thrilling! Everyone who's come over has looked at me with crazy eyes and asked, slowly and with feeling, whether I intended to put the bathroom in the middle of the cabin? I mean, did I realize that it's facing folks as they walk in the front door? That it slices the cabin into two separate living areas? That no one makes design decisions like this?

Yes. Why, yes, I did. Come on in.

This weekend the electrical goes to the cabin and in the cabin. I'll be moving in right away. (Having lived in Freeman House for three months without power or water, this will be a cake walk!) It will be a relief to be near everything: my chickens, the garden, the before-now-unattended cabin, and the peace and tranquility that come with being near the woods in the center of exactly nowhere.

Grateful today for my walls, however placed, and all the unquestioning quiet they afford....

Cottage Cabin Project #1: Lose That Loft!

There are elements of intrinsic beauty 

in the simplification of a house...
-Gustav Stickley

Work on the cabin is underway! Project Number One? Remove one of two lofts- the one over what will be the living room area- to take advantage of those 12-foot ceilings.

And what a difference that made!

With that extra loft cleared away, plans are to build the walls for the bathroom this week. It's taken me awhile to settle on an arrangement for the cabin. Non-negotiable? A full bathroom, a full kitchen (with my I-will-never-part-with-this-awesome-thing! oven), and room for my books. 

Some girls are all about the closets. Me? I'm all about the bookshelves. *wink*

I'm still trying to decide exactly where I want my windows- and what style/size. And where in the world am I going to stash a water heater? I'm working with 360 square feet, so options are limited. So many decisions! I wish I could throw open the doors and walk you through and collect the many suggestions and ideas. Part of me is concerned that once I cut holes in the outer wall, decide on room placement, etc.,, some shockingly brilliant and perfect idea will come along and then what will I do?

Wonderful, happy worries!

Your New Year is off to a pleasant start, right? Hope so.  -Brin

New Year's Day

 We will open the book. Its pages are blank.  

We are going to put words on them ourselves.  

The book is called Opportunity 

and its first chapter is New Year's Day.

- Edith Lovejoy Pierce

 

Here's to us. To open books. To blank pages. To the words we'll find, string together like twinkle lights, and light up the world.  Here's to Opportunity.

Happy New Year's Day. -Brin

Coming Soon! Magic: Turning Milk to Mozzarella

If you've been around for awhile, you may remember last year when I fell hard for homemade cheese. Hard. Remember this white farmhouse cheddar? Oh my goodness. To die for!

That's one reason why I'm excited to say that the kind and talented folks over at the New England Cheesemaking Supply Co. have asked me to be a guest blogger on their site as I chronicle my adventures making cheese at home. We're going to be conjuring up some fantastic mozzarella, and I'd love if you'd join me!

Stay tuned as details are soon to follow. Oh what fun, huh? -Brin

The Chickens Get New Digs

Although I'm a few weeks away from settling into the cabin, my chickens have settled into their new space nicely. Even the new chicks. (I ended up with 10- not the seven I originally thought- when a "missing" hen walked up one day with her three chicks in tow. It was thrilling.)

They've been such a joy to watch. There's nothing more relaxing than sitting out here in the evening with some tea and seeing them playing, scratching, and chasing bugs. So far it appears they like the new digs.

A few of them are apart of the family, now, and have been named... mostly the outlandish-looking ones. This beautiful brown, black, gray, and copper-colored fella is Benn Gleck (haha!), seen above on the left and below on the right. It's my favorite, followed by Bethsaida, Beulah, Beatrix, Beauregard and Baby Haskins.

 The fuzzy white one is Baby Haskins, the obvious offspring of Haskins, this rooster below who follows me around like a puppy but flies at all my visitors if they get too close. (Which I secretly love. Pet attack rooster? Oh heck yes!)

After all, you can't have too many bodyguards. Or friends. Even they're 10 inches tall and have feathers. A girl who lives in a cabin in the woods needs all the help she can get, eh?

Happy Monday, from Millicent, Miss Marple, the chickens and me. -Brin

Finally, A Home

She woke each morning with a glow of hope,
not because a new dream had been born,
but knowing the one she carried
inside her heart would last.

-Jodi Hills, An Imperfect Life

 

The cottage-cabin. It arrived early Friday morning, before the fog settled and the sun chased the drizzle away. The days I've hoped on for so long are here. It's time to turn this tiny, shell-of-a-building into a special little home.

I'm showing you the before because we will hardly recognize this little wooden thing when we're through. It will have heavy paned windows, reclaimed trim, a screen door, a porch, some paint, stone steps and walkway, fireplaces, and a garden with a very special front garden gate. Don't forget lots and lots of trailing roses and delicate herbs and sweetly-scented flowers. Just you wait. It's going to be a dream...

No. Wait. 

It already was.

Are you ready to get busy? We have a lot to do here! First off: the inside, and how to fit it all in. I've just downsized from 1,500 square feet to 356 square feet, after all. We're going to have to get creative if we're going to fit all our books, yarn, dishes, clothes, paintings, furniture, and animals in there!

Here's to the dreams we carry, lasting. -Brin

Delivery Date

I spoke with Mr. Cabin Guy today. The little wooden home is scheduled to be delivered December 17th! I drove away and smiled as I swatted at tears. Good, happy news. What a Christmas!

Time to get back to simplifying and packing. You wouldn't believe the scaling down that's happening over this way in the last few/next few days as I make room for new memories in a new home.

Are y'all ready for another house adventure? We'll have a lot of work to do!  -Brin