cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
There is a whizz and the sound of pouring water. The smell of coffee beans breaks into my morning routine, welcome and warm. I am rummaging for cream to add to my favorite mug. I am adjusting the lights while my laptop loads, my kids and husband on their way to start their day. I…
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I take a good hard look in the mirror and suck in a huge gulp of air. I am getting ready to step into the shower and have just stepped off the scale. The chaos of bed hair and a NyQuil-induced sleep blink back at me underneath the glow of the unforgiving bathroom lights. My…
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I refuse to be an either/or. As a matter of fact, as I’m wrestling my own heart’s troubles in this, I’m actively resisting the lie of relief that somehow, if I choose, I will feel settled. I will feel peace. It won’t happen. I am sure of it. This week I had the privilege of hearing…
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I lean against the wall of the standing-room-only church, immediately regretting my choice of heels. A funeral is always hard, and one honoring a mom in her 40s with young kids especially so. Fans twirl slowly from the ceiling of this small town church. I hold the program and fan myself as vigorously and quietly…
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I am a rule follower. I see others, light hearted and fancy free, seemingly moving about as wispy air, and I envy them. Deeply. Because if you cut others in line, I’m there to remind you of the people behind you. If you bypass the process, I’m going to side-eye you from across the room.…
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I can feel myself slowing down as the end of the year approaches. I feel like a ball running out of steam, making its last few rotations before coming full stop. I have one last trip coming up before December waves goodbye. There are bits of tape and scraps of wrapping paper stuck to my…
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This is not a eulogy. This is a wild ce-le-bra-tion. Lived out in staccato, fast breaths and clapped hands. This is a reverie of light that actively stomped the darkness. She was a determined, defiant dance. This is ce-le-bra-tion. She was coffee and cocoa-bean, sugar cane and deep earth. Caribbean and cradle of civilization. She was…
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Since quarantine, I have done a ton of baking. It’s a craft that tidily fits into all the buckets that connect with my soul: practical, part art, part science, that is done when it is done. It is artistic efficiency. Yet as I measure out my thoughts in ounces and teaspoons, I am in my…
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This one is for the outsiders. The ones who walk into a room and wonder if they’re going to find a friend. If people are going to see them, welcome them. “Will I be overdressed? Underdressed? Will I say the right thing? Will they think my jokes are funny?” This is for the ones who,…
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At the end of 2020, I was scrolling through my Instagram account, hunting for last-minute Christmas baking ideas, when I caught my breath. Along with the myriad of travel, baking and religious writers I follow, I also follow a few accounts focused on the Enneagram. What I saw in late December stopped me in my…
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