cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
My husband just returned from his annual fishing trip to Montana. This year he fell while trying to get his fishing boat on top of the car. There was a crowd of young men who watched it happen and a few came over to make sure that he was alright. Life holds moments of embarrassment.…
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It had been the sweetest day spent with some of my beloved ones. As our time together was coming to an end, a child whom I adore noticed the bright, full moon outside my east-facing windows. “Oh, look!” she said. “The moon! Can we go outside and look at it?”
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Ask a mom of littles what her day looks like, and she will probably laugh in your face. The day, in large part, is what it is. However, since entering the parenting trenches three-and-a-half years ago, I have begun to take hold of the unexpected practice of peacemaking through planning. What used to read “prison”…
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You would think apple picking is about the smell, but it’s not. At first, it’s about the feel. The air is always colder than you think out in the orchards. Even with a stocking cap pulled down past my ears and a cozy green flannel zipped up to my neck, a shiver occasionally runs the…
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