Rocks and Roses

....It struck her that that perhaps everyone 

had the ability to see themselves in others. 

Even in the rocks. Even in the roses.

-Holly Lynn Payne, Damascena

 

I'm glad you're here. 

We're kind of like a family, you know... those of us who come here. You read me, I read your comments, and I think we see ourselves when we look at each other. Rocks, roses and all. Hi there, you.

The roses are blooming and so I picked some and brought them in. But really they're for you. Thanks for sharing my days, my quiet thoughts, my messy life.

Call it Earth Day or Wednesday or whatever you'd like. Today I'm grateful for... and looking at... you.

Let's be friends always, okay?  -Brin

Whippoorwills, Singing, Gardens and Houses

A feather from the Whippoorwill
That everlasting—sings!
Whose galleries—are Sunrise—
Whose Opera—the Springs....

-Emily Dickinson

Everything is alive here- sprouting and swaying and singing. It's all just so... alive. I'm not sure why, but this spring has brought so much reassurance for me. I've heard her opera of hope: we may be facing chaos, but God is on His throne and He has a plan. Just look at the roses and tell me He doesn't. The Everlasting still sings.

Is this not just the most beautiful, Secret Garden-like place you've ever seen? It's Whippoorwill Gardens in Cass County, Texas. I went not long ago, and we wandered around until it clouded up and threatened rain. I want something like this- these rooms of roses and fountains, I told him. I want something like this at the new place.

Speaking of, so far, still so good on the new house. We're on schedule to close May 9. I'm in this alternate world right now of gardens and paint colors and flea markets and list making. And how wonderful that it's all happening in spring, with all her galleries and operas and whippoorwills!

We're so blessed to be talking gardens and houses. The Everlasting... He still sings.

Monday Moment: The Lord Lenders

 Whoever is kind to the poor lends to the Lord, 

and he will reward them for what they have done.

-Proverbs 19:17

 

Home.

You all know how home is such a big deal to me. I love being home. Home is my favorite place. I need a reason, and a good one, to walk out my front door and get in my car. So a few years ago, when the plight of the homeless people in our area was (honestly) kind of dropped at my feet, it seemed predetermined: homeless people would become my "thing".

And so it began. I was stunned when our local yarn store agreed to collect homemade hats for our homeless friends. Gorgeous hats, like the one above. I was floored when people started showing up with bags of socks for our Socktober event last October. And now? Now I'm giddy that we are 40 pairs of underwear in to collecting 500 pairs of new underwear for our underwear campaign. The local radio station is running public service announcements. The city's event page on Facebook shares nearly every status. Word is getting around!

But even more, I love the way the Bible deals with giving, especially giving to the poor. God makes it clear: He is all about the poor. Want to touch on something that touches the heart of God? Start with the poor in your community. Your neighborhood. That school down the street. 

In fact, God says it this way: if you are kind to the poor, you are lending to Him. And He always repays. Isn't that wildly awesome? Giving to the poor is lending to God, and He repays.

I can't think of anyone I'd rather lend to. Can you?

So let's do it. Let's be the ones who rise above circumstances and setbacks and walk out of our own homes and become a people who are known by our kindness to the poor and overlooked. 

Let's be Lord Lenders.

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

Hope and Home

Y'all. That inspector's report came back a 42-page heart attack.

I have been knitting a Seed Stitch pillow in an attempt to keep the hope alive. I paused last night to ask the question I didn't want to send out into the world: Do you think the bank will still lend after it sees the inspector's report? The realtor said he didn't know. I knit faster.

But surely they will. Insurance agent and realtor friends have gone out of their ways the past two days to assure us that it will be fine. Good. Fine is good. Banks expect things like this with an old home, they said. 

Maybe we're overreacting, I said. knitknitknit

Hope with me, won't you? I have a vision to establish a house of refuge... a house with roses and a screened porch and fresh-baked bread and fluffy quilts and reading alcoves in the attic. We have a vision of one day adopting a child who has no home. Of welcoming people without a place. There are dreams here of hope and home...

knitknitknit -Brin

(Later note: I feel compelled to add that, 1. A 2011 inspection report showed issues that had all since been addressed by the current owner, and 2. The Seller's Disclosure was beautiful and didn't note anything alarming. It cited two concerns, so we were prepared for some issues. But not 42 pages. Egads.)

Grays and Greens

Driving home - Cass County, Texas

Have you ever been to Northeast Texas in the spring? It's like rural England, almost. I wish you'd been in the car with me this morning, right before it rained, heading down the highway. Just over this hill, there's a pond and a field of wildflowers. Gorgeous.

I've decided I want to take a break from my usual color schemes and go with whites, grays, greens and antiqued golds for this house. The landscape today captured the colors perfectly. I feel my best on cloudy days in spring or fall, and I think I want that muted- yet hopeful- feeling in this new house.

We leave in 15 minutes to meet the home inspector at the house. I have the tape measure ready and am eager to see just how the little kitchen measures up. 

I'll report back, with pictures, very soon. Enjoy your Wednesday! -Brin

Miscommunications and Muffins

We have lots and lots of house stuff going on these next few days. As you can imagine. There are meetings with insurance agents, the bank, the realtor... and then the 5-hour home inspection we need to be present for (and simultaneously get bids from companies on repairs that have to be done immediately). The home inspection was set for today but had to be rescheduled this morning due to realtor miscommunication. I had taken the day off and everything.

Maybe I need to take the realtors/inspectors/repairmen muffins to help speed this along and get everyone reading their texts and emails. Or maybe not. We are stress eating them kinda quickly. Ha!

Do yourself a favor and make these Streusel Crumb Blueberry Muffins. Go preheat the oven now. Seriously. I don't even like blueberries, but these are incredible! Perfect. Everything a muffin should be... and more.

Many pictures to come... just as soon as I can get in the house. Tomorrow, hopefully? 

In the meantime, happy Tuesday. If you were close, I'd offer you a muffin and coffee and drive you by the house....

Big News

We got the house!!! (And I guess a white flamingo, too.)

So, so, so much more to come. Get ready!

The (House) Game's Afoot!

Home wasn't built in a day.

-Jane Sherwood Ace

We got a counter offer yesterday. A gut-punching counter offer, but one nonetheless. The game is afoot!

Of course, I've been waking up between 3 and 4 AM since Monday, pacing, making kettles of tea, sketching out bathroom layouts, and telling myself to calm down... this is part of it. The realtor and I, meanwhile, are playing the game nicely. It's driving me crazy. Why can't we just walk up on porches, explain situations, have a glass of iced tea, and make a deal? The owner is a single woman several years older than I am. Let me at her. I know I could bring her around!

You get too emotionally attached to houses, everyone says.

Um, have you met me? Emotionallyattachedtohouses is my middle name.

I have so much to show y'all. And a dozen questions to ask. What should we do with the glassed-in side porch if we get the house? The alcove in the attic? The kitchen? The back garden?

Say a prayer, would you? We meet the realtor again this morning! -Brin


(By the way, your birthday wishes are treasured. I commented in the post below. Thank you all so very much! You made my day.)

(Oh! And my tea addiction is so out of control that Sonic Drive-In unofficially named their Sweet Cranberry Tea in my honor yesterday, nationwide. No joke. You can see it here. Nuts, right?!)

Freeman House the Second??

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

I've had a secret, but now I'm telling you: I found a house. But not just any house. The house. I think I've found the house.

She reminds me of Freeman House- heavy wood floors, thick window panes, awkward rooms, soaring ceilings. But unlike Freeman House, someone hasn't abandoned her. In 2013, a nurse took pity on this house and gave her new electrics, a new roof, and a good leveling. What she hasn't had the time or inclination to do is give this old beauty her life back. 

Late in the afternoon on Easter Sunday, as it rained, we met the realtor and signed a contract. Are you sure? he asked, searching my face.

Absolutely, I answered. I've waited for this day.

Well, he replied, We should know by Wednesday. 

Wednesday is tomorrow. Tomorrow is my birthday.

So tomorrow, my birthday, is the day we hope to hear if we got Freeman House the Second.

Could y'all do this all again? We could be in for quite an adventure....

(A few things of note: like Freeman House, this house needs a major facelift, inside and out. And also like Freeman House, it sits in town on a third of an acre, with old rose bushes and ivy. Unlike Freeman House, this girl is on a corner lot, has a detached storage building/cottage, and is close enough to the ground that a donkey can't get stuck underneath it. Win!)

The Great Gift of Easter

The great gift of Easter is hope -

Christian hope which makes us have

that confidence in God, in His ultimate triumph,

and in His goodness and love, which nothing can shake.

-Basil C. Hume

Thank you, Jesus, for making a way. For being the Way, Truth and Life. Because you died, I now live.

The God of Spring

The day the Lord created hope

was probably the same day He created Spring.

-Bernard Williams

Spring is so reassuring to me this year. 

Undoubtedly, change is coming to the nations. Big changes are coming to our doorstep. Although I'm not a news reporter anymore, I'm still a news junkie. But it doesn't take a news junkie or an acclaimed economist or an ivy league rocket scientist to tell us that change is in the air for our beloved country.

That's why I'm so grateful God made Spring. It's His reminder that He makes all things new. That He is the God of life.

So let's make our lemon cakes, even in times of turmoil. Let's raise our families and work our jobs and sing our songs and wash our dishes with a steadying hope that the God of Spring is on His throne.

Let the earth rejoice and hope, even still! 

Happy Spring.  -Brin

Biscuits and Success

Put your heart, mind and soul

into even your smallest acts.

This is the secret of success.

-Swami Sivananda 

I've had so much stirring around in my mind lately. Big thoughts. Scatty thoughts. Important thoughts. Heavy thoughts. I think them as I go about my day- folding laundry, paying bills, making biscuits.

What about you? Thinking thoughts lately?

A collapse in oil prices and massive cuts in the industry have suddenly freed my time. (I should be used to it by now, after 2008 and all, shouldn't I?) Over the weekend, a friend told me I should take the time to write a book.

I wouldn't know where to start, I said.

What kind of book would you write?, he asked.

No idea, I responded. Not a clue. How do you even successfully write a book?

I've considered that question several times since I asked it. How do you even successfully write a book? As I was making biscuits, the answer came to me: how do you successfully do anything? How do you successfully make biscuits? Pay bills? Fold laundry? How do we successfully tackle that project, that goal, that dream? We throw ourselves in and at the end, there are our biscuits, our bills, our balled-up socks, our triumphs.

Time to put in our heart, mind, and souls, y'all. Let's start with probably the best homemade biscuits ever.

Brin's Biscuits 

Recipe adapted from several in print

Ingredients
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1 stick salted butter
3/4 cups milk (I use 2% or whole)

Directions
Preheat oven to 425 F.

Mix together:
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

To those dry ingredients, add:
1 stick salted butter, very cold, cut with knife into random-sized pieces

Using a pastry cutter (or two knives, if you have time for that), cut butter into dry ingredients until it looks somewhat incorporated. I usually have a few butter pieces about the size of uneven marbles visible in my dough. That's fine.

To that, add a very full 3/4 cup of cold milk. (Most of the time I add an extra little splash.) Mix until dry ingredients are incorporated. Stir dough into a ball shape and turn out onto lightly floured counter.

Knead dough like 3 times to get it smooth- five seconds, max- and roll or pat until dough is 1- 1 1/2 inches thick. Cut into 7-8 biscuits. (If you like thinner biscuits, feel free to roll thinly and cut 10 or more. We like ours layered and fluffy, so I cut them thick.)

Bake at 425 F on middle rack for 15-20 minutes- depending on your oven- until lightly golden on top. I bake these on my Pampered Chef stone, and strongly recommend one for all baked goods!

Serve warm. Can be frozen baked or unbaked. Yay! Homemade biscuits!

Important:
1. Don't use too much flour. Under fill your measuring cup as opposed to heaping it over the top.
2. Use butter. Just do. Margarine, Crisco, or vegan "butters" won't help in this recipe. Use unsalted if you must, but don't come looking for me if your biscuits are funky. wink emoticon
3. If you bake these on cookie sheets, the butter content may cause them to brown quickly on the bottom. Beg, borrow or buy a pizza/baking stone. You'll never regret it.
4. Depending on what you use to cut your biscuits (cutter, glass, knife, etc.), you may end up with a different number. That's okay. Just don't roll them too thin and they'll be awesome.
5. Use COLD butter and milk. Super cold. Don't get them out and let them hang out on the counter all morning. This is what gives you those flaky layers!

Time to see some success, right? Enjoy the best biscuits ever! -Brin

Dreaming Again...

The house shelters day-dreaming, the house protects the dreamer,

the house allows one to dream in peace.

-Gaston Bachelard

It's happened again,  you guys. I have fallen in love. 

Meet the Whitaker House, a circa 1890s mansion that looks as if it could be the setting for one of my favorite girlhood books, The Velvet Room:

I took my Mom to meet her over the weekend.  This is all I have ever wanted, I breathed, hand wrapping around the iron garden gate that, seemingly by magic, creaked open. I took it as an invitation. Wouldn't you? We creeped inside the brick and iron wall and just stared at the old place.

It was for sale but now it isn't. Apparently a local optometrist purchased it from the estate of an out of town doctor, but there's no word on what the eye guy intends to do with the place.

I intend to find every dollar I possibly can and pray, wish and hope beyond hope that one day the phone will ring and it will be a gruff-sounding voice on the other end saying, So, I heard you were interested in the old Whitaker place....

Not interested. Enthralled, is a better word. Utterly smitten and completely in love.

It's time to find a place to dream in peace again....

E-n-d-o-c-r-i-n-o-l-o-g-i-s-t and the Woman Subject to Bleeding and Me and Jesus

Danged if we weren't just rocking along and working and planting seeds and keeping house and minding our pet project when suddenly everything went red again.

Blood red. *shudder*

See, over the past year I've been diagnosed with a bleeding disorder. One day I'll be fine, and the next I begin bleeding out. I get anemic. My blood pressure tanks. I have no energy and do crazy things. Things like:

Me: Yes, I'm here to pay my rent. 
Rent office lady: Address?
Me: 304 Butler Street.
Rent office lady: ...typing...
Rent office lady: You said Butler Street?
Me: Yes.
Rent office lady: 304?
Me: Yes ma'am.
Rent office lady: 304 Butler Street? Are you sure?
Me: Pretty sure. Yes.
Rent office lady: ...typing again... It's just that we don't have any properties at that address. You're sure you're on Butler Street?
Me: ... ...
Rent office lady: Give me your name and I'll look it up that way.
Me: Okay. Brin  __________.
Rent office lady: Oh. Brin? I have you at a different address.
Me: What?
Rent office lady: Yes. I have you at __________________.
Me: ... ... 
Me: ...Oh. Crap it. I'm really sorry. Yes, that's the right address. 304 Butler is an old address. I'm... sorry.
Rent office lady: (weird look). Okay. I'll take that.
Me: (hands over rent check)

I cannot be trusted to handle even simple tasks like paying rent quickly when I'm in the midst of a bleed-out-athon.

So Monday, my doctor took one look at a picture I emailed to the office and said I needed to see an endocrinologist immediately. I had to look it up. E-n-d-o-c-r-i-n-o-l-o-g-i-s-t? Sounded like a bug scientist, but of course that's an e-n-t-o-m-o-l-o-g-i-s-t. Let's get our en-ologists straight, shall we? Because being sent to an insect scientist was about all I needed to make my life story complete.

So Tuesday, I was in Dallas/Fort Worth in the office of one of the most renowned endocrinologists in the U.S. Yes. In one day. God arranged that. The endocrinologist is fantastic. I liked her so much that I kinda wanted to ask if I could have a sleep-over at her house, that way when I got scared in the bathroom she would be there and could tell me in her cool and funny medicalspeak why I wasn't going to die and how women with this are totally fine and treatable. (But thank God I didn't ask. I've creeped out enough people with my bleed brain for one week.)

I got a shot that spiked my blood pressure up above 164/110+. Then I got prescribed four medications. The warning label on my favorite one says: Adverse reactions...may include constipation, diarrhea, nausea, vomiting, dark stools and severe abdominal pain, hard word, hard word, hard word, metabolic acidosis, hard word, dehydration, drowsiness, pallor, hard word, lassitude, seizures, shock and coma. 

That's my favorite. I take that one at night after dinner.

So Thursday, I was sent back to the hospital and then the lab for four more tests that involved x-rays and drinking dye and lying completely still for two hours and getting my blood drawn four times in two days and so on. Endocrinologists mean business, people. 

We're hoping for word today (but likely next week) on why in the world my body is trying to empty itself of all my blood. Until then, I'm as busy as I can manage, and I'm wearing pajama pants every single moment I possibly can.

I'm also reading Luke 8 (above) over and over. I almost have it memorized. Love how the woman bled for 12 years and although no one could help her (and the account in Mark says she was getting worse), Jesus did. He could. He did. And since He went to the trouble to put it in the Bible, I almost feel like every time I read it, He's saying that He can do it again.

So today, come walk over by me, Jesus. Let me grab at the hem of your coat. Let me tell you my old addresses and ask you for a sleep-over and tell you how disgusting drinking that red stuff is and how I don't need a bug scientist, just you.

All I really need is you. 

In the Beeginning

Women made the best beekeepers 'cause they have a

special ability built into them to love creatures that sting. 

-Sue Monk Kidd, The Secret Life of Bees

First off: 

1. Judge not my yard lest your yard be judged. Ahem.
And 2. I start beekeeping classes tomorrow!

Y'all. I've wanted to have bees and learn how to keep a hive for days and days and days. At first it was a fleeting fancy. Then it was a mild curiosity. Then it was a can-I-actually-do-this? Now it's almost a reality. I start classes tomorrow, finish my top bar hive in February, and hopefully get my bee colony buzzing by spring.

I'm such a nerd. An excited bee-almost-keeper nerd!

I'm nervous about starting classes tomorrow. Having already read stories about hives becoming Africanized (it's a term. Look it up.) and swarming their keepers, I'm cautiously optimistic. Will they swarm? Chase small children and dogs into bodies of water? Sting me until I'm unrecognizable? Actually produce enough honey for us to eat? I plan to raise my hand and earnestly ask each of these questions, carefully copying the answers into my bee notebook, without seeming like a total bee nerd noob.

Right. Wish me luck!

Anyone out there a beekeeper? If so, please say hello. Please.

UPDATE: Upon posting, I almost immediately got word from cool Kyle that the term is "bee-ks". Heck yeah! I'm hoping they let me in their club...

Strawberries and Onions and Everything's Going to Be Okay

What good is the warmth of summer, 

without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.

-John Steinbeck, Travels with Charley

I've been watching Foyle's War on Netflix sometimes. Days when it's not too heavy. The show is a British production set just as WWII is winding down, as food is still scarce and everyone's nerves are frayed. A recent episode showed the characters, amidst the chaos of war aftermath, being absolutely thrilled at the discovery of a large onion. An onion. They passed it around, smelling it...marveling... and the way they looked at that fresh onion was heartrending. Who would have thought an onion would invoke so much awe?

Guess it takes no onions to appreciate an onion again. Guess it takes winter for us to appreciate summer. After all, cold and gray days like today do make pictures of my summer strawberries look that much sweeter.

I continue to hear from ladies across the country who are going through hard times. Hard times. Lay offs and health issues and economic concerns have us all concerned and a little frayed at the edges. Personally, as a girl who makes a living in the oil and gas industry, this time is worrisome for me. I haven't been paid in 41 days and our freezer is emptying out by the day. Last night I got a little emotional about it. A friend reminded me that God will see us through... He's working a plan... and didn't we have everything we needed for today? 

This morning, I opened the freezer and found a small bag of homegrown strawberries wedged at the back. For some reason, I felt grateful for it all. I felt like I needed to rejoice, especially today. These times of not running to the store at every craving or new recipe has me discovering those sweet, forgotten strawberries. I mean, what good are times of plenty without times of want to make them sweeter? Would we have good, sweet memories if we didn't also have unpleasant ones?

If it takes these times to appreciate the other ones, I'll take it all. God is good. I'm sure of it. He is on His throne, He has not forsaken us, and a we have a glorious, sweet hope. Everything's going to be okay.

P.S. Check out these depression era recipes. Aren't they fascinating?

How I'm Growing Months of Potatoes for $3.99

I hope every American who possibly can 

will grow a victory garden this year. 

We found out last year that even the small gardens helped.

The total harvest from victory gardens was tremendous. 

It made the difference between scarcity and abundance. 

-Franklin D. Roosevelt, April 1, 1944

A few weeks ago, my local grocery store had 15 pounds of potatoes on sale for $3.99. You better believe a bag of those taters came home with me. But even after taking a meal to a couple who just had a baby and throwing potatoes in every soup pot I've made, the suckers were still sprouting faster than I could use them.

Perfect! I love it.

Did you know that when your potatoes- even normal ones, from the grocery store- begin to go wonky, you can thickly peel or slice them and use them as seed?

You can. You can grow months worth of potatoes from a $3.99 bag from the store. Really.

Let's be real: times are getting tough. And they're going to get tougher. This year I feel... I don't know... weighty conviction, almost, to plant all I can, put up all I can, and get ready to be generous. This would be loads easier if I had a farm, or even some land, but right now we're in a two bedroom house with an average size back yard and a landlord who doesn't want us to put in raised beds. In other words, we're resigned to using flower beds for now. Point? If I can do this, maybe you can, too. 

We can totally do this.

Okay. First, I'm going to take my sprouting potato and I'm going to cut it into chunks with at least two "eyes", or two buds that will start the growth of a new potato plant, on each piece. Some folks say not to do more than one or two, since the resulting vines could make a tangled mess and choke each other as they compete for nutrients. And then other people plant whole potatoes and are happy with that. I say at least two eyes is good, but I don't freak if there's more.

Some gardeners get really technical with this cutting and talk about invisible stems and tuber size and humidity and blah blah. Not me. I grab a knife and slice like a crazy person in a horror movie. My only rule? Cut big chunks about the size of my thumb, give or take. It's worked in the past.

Yesterday as I was cutting these, there were some potatoes that were mostly sprouting on one side. I simply peeled the other side and we ate them in soup last night. Once I was done slicing my sprouted taters, here's what I had:

Oh yeah. 

Since I was at the end of the sack of potatoes, I put my sprouting chunks- cut side up- on a paper lunch bag, and then put the paper bag on top of the original plastic potato sack. Then I moved it to an open, airy corner of the kitchen and let the chunks hang out for at least 24 hours. This process is called chitting- the cutting and hanging out period in a potato's life before it is planted and begins to produce.

I could draw so many parallels to that and real life but I won't today. Moving on...

(Again, depending on who you ask, there's a correct length of time to chit potatoes. The lady who runs our downtown community garden swears by cutting potatoes and planting them that instant. I watched in amazement last year as she cut a potato in half and then dropped each piece into the soil right then. And you know what? They got a decent potato crop! I like to err on the side of drying my potato pieces at least a day, though.)

After a day or two, my cut potato chunks have dried enough to plant. Yes, I know it's crazy early to be planting potatoes, but I live in Texas. It was 67 degrees yesterday. For the rest of the known world, you'll want to wait until it's dry and warm, about a week after the last frost.

And into the ground they go! You'll notice all the organic material in my soil there. I am a HUGE proponent of the Back to Eden style of gardening, and I have heavily mulched these beds the past two years. I can sink a spade about 10 inches down into the soil and it's rich and alive and gorgeous. In fact, let me show you. Here's a back bed that was NOT mulched Back to Eden style. (Note how sandy the soil is. I can barely dig into it with a shovel, it's such hard ground.)

And here's the "flower"bed with that gorgeous soil, now planted with potatoes, mulched in wood chips and spent tomato vines and Maggie's head:

World of difference!

Anyway. I'll continue planting potatoes through March, but I'm happy to have these in the ground now. Several months worth of potatoes from a $3.99 bag at the store that we also ate from? Yes please!

It's time for a victory garden revival.

Garden Dreaming

Growing your own food is like

printing your own money.

-Ron Finley

I don't know about you, but I'm ready to start printing.

Do you garden? What are you thinking of planting this year? I'm doing onions, cabbage, and potatoes again, along with peas and beans, tomatoes, green veggies and cucumbers. Maybe corn. Is it time to start seeds yet? I'm ready... I'm so ready.... 

I've been watching Urban Farming Guys videos lately and thinking of our town. We have a community garden that grows vegetables for the local homeless shelter, the food pantry and veterans. My family helped out a little last year, mainly with prepping the garden and planting. My Dad brought his tractor out and got the garden ready for spring. He's cool like that.

But an urban farming movement? That's impossibly cool. Sign me up. One garden is never enough!

Wonder how much help we could be to each other if everyone who could, planted?

Excuse me. Sorry. Just garden dreaming out loud... 

Quiet January Life

Make it your goal to live a quiet life, 

minding your own business and working with your hands...

-1 Thessalonians 4:11

In keeping with the whole "quiet life" thing, the plan this weekend is to make soup, knit, read, look through seed catalogs for flowers to grow this spring, and stay warm. It's the best time of year to take things slow and steady, isn't it?

Have a warm and blessed weekend. -Brin

Mountains, Light, Heart Blinds and Rising Up

Mountains

know the secrets

we need to learn.

That it might take time,

it might be hard

but if you just

hold on

long enough

you will find the strength 

to rise up. 

-Tyler Knott Gregson 

 

Happy new year, you!

Two things I'm already taken with in 2015: Tyler Knott Gregson's poetry, and this bread- Fast and Fabulous French Bread. Early this morning, as the sun leaked through the window blinds, I read bits of Chasers of the Light and smeared butter on my homemade bread and, in that moment, felt joy leaking through my heart blinds.

Heart blinds are a thing, in case you didn't know. They're the cheap, fiddly screens we find over our hearts when we realize, suddenly, one day, that it's darker in ourselves than it need be. That we've let fear or doubt or the dullness of life leak into our spirit and- day after day, slat after slat- hang a barrier between us and the Light that's all around us. Mountains do know the secret. Bread knows it, too: that time and endurance can raise the ordinary to extraordinary heights, if only we persevere until we find ourselves lifted up.

This new year, my prayer is that we continue to chase the Light. That we don't give up. That we keep on and keep on and keep on until we rise up, out of our shadows... out of our fear... out of our doubt, and onto the mountain top.

We'll do this, this year. See you there.  -Brin