There are days when my morning begins with thoughts of work. Etsy shop updates. Blog posts. Business plan worksheets.
Somewhere though the path of my day shifts. I veer towards the seemingly unimportant. Rearranging furniture. Washing floors. Daydreaming.
Many times I offer myself only reprimands about such behaviour and wasting time. Sometimes I allow myself to sink into it and recognize that this too is part of the process.
Today was a good day.
xo
Happy New Year folks! The beautiful sunrise that greeted me on New Years Day is one that I took as an omen of the year to come.
It would seem that Deathcab for Cutie's song "So this is the New Year" has become a thing as part of my tradition surrounding this day. Without thinking about it, the song joins me the instant my eyes are open. The chorus spends time circling around inside my head - ear worm style. It is not a song I have listened to recently or one that reflects my outlook on things to come. Despite it's melancholy tone, the phrase "so this is the new year" is one that resonates with me. It captures my sentiments as I spend my day with the ordinary and the extraordinary.
The transfer of all old calendar information to the newest edition is another part of my welcoming in of the new. As an early-riser this time of day finds me at my best. It is also the quietest time of the day with everyone else still asleep. With coffee nearby and pen in hand I begin the process of filling in the blank slate. And for a brief time it feels as though things are under control. I admit to placing much importance on the look of this journal of sorts, and spend time seeking out a worthy one up to the task of being the keeper of our days. This year's choice (on the right) is put out by Taproot magazine and can be found here.
Although I am not technically one for resolution-making, I did have time throughout our holidaying to state some intentions for the coming days, weeks and months. What I came to was the commitment to finishing the old before beginning the new - regardless of the medium. My mending pile of woollens was the first to tackle. One morning spent with a darning needle was all it took to work through the pile.
There is also a growing number of small, yet unfinished home reno projects in my life. Again - many of said projects require an insignificant amount of time and effort that upon completion come with a huge sense of satisfaction. This little red cabinet is one that has been waiting for months to be put into place. A curbside find of many years ago, it's pretty red facade the perfect juxtaposition on a white wall and a black woodstove. Checking this one off the list was big - not only pretty but also functional...it does a kickass job of holding our matches. ;-)
And. The tree. As I mentioned, I love a tree indoors... until I don't. This year the turning point was January 1. Consequently, our tree has taken up residence outside our back deck and has a new lease on life as being shelter and food for our animal friends. As a way of giving thanks to this tree and all the others we have cut down over the years, a plan for planting saplings come Spring has been formulated. And we will welcome birch, balsam, among others to live on our homestead.
I am motivated to keep working on the projects that are taking up space in my head. In doing so, I hope to make room for all that is waiting ahead. That is my wish for 2017.
xoKaren
Proof to me that the universe is watching. Because the fact that songs like "It's a Good Life if you don't Weaken" and "If We Make it through December" have been running on repeat through my head for the past month just weren't indication enough. When day one of the work week begins with a headachy kid, it doesn't matter what was on the list of things to-do. The powers that be have other plans.
A forced stop.
A quiet day at home. With little bits of holiday decorating and making thrown in. An opportunity to teach the sick one about essential oil mixing. Catching up on LittleWool custom orders.
Small things that have a disproportionate impact. The opportunity to catch my breath.
xo
As it surely must be with many, I am finding it difficult to keep my worry at bay. I know that it is a futile emotion. That it casts a shadow over all that is good. That it's insidious nature can reduce a person to inaction.
The words "love harder" are echoing through my head these days. Without intending to make light of all that is going on in the world today, they are helping to quiet the negative voices at work. And help remind me that there are concrete ways in which to make things better.
xo
As the sun goes down my thoughts turn and begin to process the day that was. So much change. Our reach as a family now stretches out over two continents. My part-time gardening gig has joined the big leagues and morphed into a full-time challenge to my body and brain.
I realize now with the benefit of hindsight that I wasted my time worrying about all that was coming. And accept the reminder yet again (flawed human) that perspective is everything.
xo
Mist and dew sparkles have joined my morning coffee/decksit. Also, the need of a sweater. Only of the cotton variety, but still, a difference of note.
Thinking back over the last couple of months the majority of my mornings began in the same way - rising with the sun, coffee on the deck. Joined by a changing cast of birds, insects and plants. I have always been a morning person. And while I spent much time begrudging this fact as a teenager, I have grown to love this time of day and the clean slate that it is.
With my rational brain not quite awake enough to have a say, the dreamy side takes over. And it all seems possible.
With the calendar page fixed on the month of July, I am happy to report that we have done it. One year under our belts in this here rural existence. While I would like to say the process has been top heavy with joy and rainbows, the truth of the matter is a little more down to earth. There are moments of clarity when all feels right with where we're at. Tempered with equal amounts of head-scratching and sharp intakes of breath.
In our own ways we have made this place home. Projects that have added strength and security to the four walls that give us shelter. Projects that are purely cosmetic yet fill the important role of reminding us of all the goodness that surrounds us.
Upon first visit this house spoke to Michael and I. There was something here that drew us in and made us feel that this was our home. Something deeper than paint colors and decorating styles. As we bring each space in line, this framework of trusses, walls and roof feels more like home. A process that cannot be rushed or forced.
xo
you wake up and find your garden beds covered once again in snow. Along with your sweet little sprouts of daffodil joy .
Sometimes because the forecast is one of foreboding....including everything but sunshine.
Sometimes it becomes necessary to re-evaluate previous plans.
And ignore all that swirls around outside the window. This is Spring.
xoKaren
(this time last year)
(currently)
As I ready myself for the official coming of Spring I feel a note to self is in order.
Karen. Do not, I repeat do NOT to be fooled by the way March has presented itself so far. March weather swings all ways. Control thoughts of seeds and soil, for the cold hard truth is that the average last frost date in your hood is mid-May. As in, two months from now.
This public service announcement has been brought to you by your rational brain. It remembers where your twitchy brain does not.
Well, that was quite the weekend. So much cold and wind - basically the two worst enemies of draughty old farmhouses everywhere. Not to mention their inhabitants....
Let's just say that we were made fully aware of where our efforts at weatherproofing and insulating should be concentrated before we have to tangle with Winter once again. I spent altogether too many nighttime hours in an awake position thinking about frozen pipes and septic fields, and filling the wood stove. Not to mention being dumbfounded with wonder at how any settlers of this land managed to survive Winter at all.
On the upside, I can't help but feel lucky that we got to learn valuable lessons about how our house behaves in extreme cold in the late Winter month of February...not December.
As folks who have for the most part spent their entire adult lives living in the luxury that is an urban existance, it feels good to have weathered this. None of what we do out here is second nature yet. Each season so far has brought with it so much more toil than we had expected. Yet, here we are - doing it. And, moments of fear and worry aside we are old dogs learning new tricks.
Have a great week everyone.
xoKaren
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