cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
Everyone prepares you for the feelings that accompany your child’s first birthday, but no one prepares you for the emotional tidal wave that hits on their second. Or at least no one warned me. My daughter turned two on Friday, and amidst the celebrations and fanfare, I found myself in tears nearly every day leading…
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I am still every age that I have been. Because I was once a child, I am always a child. Madeleine L’Engle This afternoon my family and I arrive at the beach for our twentieth annual trip with my parents. Soon after we unload the car and unpack our suitcases, we slip into our swimsuits…
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Above my desk hangs a framed black and white photo of two sets of feet. I took it on our first vacation as a family of three. My husband’s feet are covered in white sand and my one-year-old’s chubby toes sit atop. The vacation was paid for by parents and preceded our move overseas by…
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The kitchen clock breaks the silence of the early morning as I wait for the Keurig drip to complete its work, reminding me that the demands of the day have begun. Coffee and quiet reflection, reading, solace and contemplation must fit neatly into increments metered out by the demands of the day. Numbers soldier their…
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