So what keeps me busy when I'm not checking the on-line world every twelve minutes?  

Life. It's been delicious.

Let's start with time with my kids. Quality time. Uninterrupted, un-distracted time. Yeah, that.

That computer. It was/is a bugger for me. While my friends and my mom will attest to the fact that I rarely – if ever – answer my phone, I was always making a to-do list in my head of work I could attend to at any moment, if I could just "hop on the computer for a quick second." And when I sat down at my desk there were other distractions popping up and hooking me in. I'm not doing that now. At least I'm trying not to.

And so time with my kids is different than before.

I'm not feeling bored when we play together. Really, not at all. (This is new.) Also both children are more engaged in the work that we're doing together (like cooking, cleaning, or other chores). It's almost as though I'm more present with what they want from me, so they are more present with what I want from them.

Maybe I'm over-thinking it, but that's how it feels anyway. And they are more mellow now when I move away from the togetherness for a break. As in: I can sit down and drink a cup of tea without someone climbing on me.

Coincidences? I doubt it.

As always, we were busy in the kitchen today. But instead of researching ten crazy new recipes and making one, we're just making stuff. Constantly. And I get around to the cleaning-up part faster than I did before, with nowhere to wander off to for distraction.

Today's experiments included homemade cheese (this recipe), and a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants lemon mead (in the crock above). In the jar is another shooting-from-the-hip (rhubarb) mead, now in its second fermentation. (Both were inspired by fruit t'je from Wild Fermentation.) Lupine also talked me into making our grain-free flat bread so that we could have sandwiches for lunch.

We ate lunch outside and stayed out until dinner time.

The afternoon had us drifting between biking, painting, gardening, fence building, fire-making, and laying in the grass (depending on who you were watching). Aaaaah. So good. Thank you, May, for finally bringing some late spring weather and wonder our way.

And yes, Lupine is lighting matches. (You might recall she's also been cutting with a sharp knife since age two.) She burned her way through most of the box of matches today – one by one – before we went in for the night.

Why let a five-year old light matches? Because she's learning. About the elements. About friction. About safety. About what will – and what will not – burn. To allow her to trust herself. And show her that I trust her too. To empower. I could go on and on.

I'm also not the "Be careful!" sort of parent. Getting hurt is often an important lesson too. No, that doesn't mean I'll let my child play in traffic. But a small risk like her playing with fire while I work nearby is in line with how we live and learn.

At one point I actually heard myself say to her, "I know you want to climb on the roof with Sagie. Why don't you keep playing with matches until he comes down?" Yup. That's how we roll over here. (For the record, it was the playhouse roof he was climbing. Because he can only climb on the house roof with a grown-up. Ahem.)

But I digress.

I also finally planted my garden today. Tomatoes, beans, kohlrabi, broccoli, lettuce, kale, cucumbers, and zucchini. For the first time in my life the task was bitter sweet. You see, I didn't think I'd garden here this year. Because we were moving. Remember?

It felt good just the same to get my hands in the earth and set out a few rows of veggies. I suspect I'll still be here to harvest them come August, but then again, you never know. Maybe I'll leave this place with beans on the vine. I'd be okay with that.

All-in-all, logging off has been good for us. So good.

That being said, one bit of balance I'm striving for is allowing myself some time on-line. Guilt-free. Because I don't think it's wrong or evil or somehow bad to veg out now and then. Really. I get it.

But as you may have noticed, I tend to be an all-or-nothing girl. I do it or I don't. But I'm slowly learning moderation. A little internet is fine for me. As long as I indulge mindfully. As long as I am awake to the trade-offs. 

So that's where I'm at. 15 minutes on Pinterest, fine. 15 minutes, five times a day, not fine. Moderation. Perspective. Priorities.

Because real-life is still far more delicious than on-line. No matter how seductive that screen may be.

I'm seeing that clearly now.

How's it working for you? Are you feeling more conscious about your screen time, or more connected during your days? Tell me what you know.

Love,
Rachel

 

All day yesterday I made it my mission to search for reasons to be grateful. Because even when dreams unravel, there is always richness that we still hold. And so much to be thankful for showed up at my door – like it always does – when I opened myself to appreciation. It's always there. It's just a matter of whether or not our eyes are open to see it.

Yesterday I was grateful for…

… hanging out the laundry in the sunshine, my favorite of all chores.

… a big pot of nettle chai simmering on the stove.

… tea and chapter and apples while we cuddled on the couch. (And yes, that was really the name of the chapter we were on. Because, right?! Life is wonderful. Even when it kind of sucks. We're on book two of this series and like the first it is outstanding.)

… the near magical transformation of 2 gallons of milk into a big jar of fresh mozzarella, with the help of my kids. Our first effort. It was imperfect, but such fun.

… carving out a little time with my sewing machine to work on curtains and cushions for our vintage camper. (We've had the camper for over two years and haven't used it because it needs cushions and a mattress. After all those months of stalling I jumped and ordered new cushions yesterday – and had a friend offer up the perfect mattress. Because, hey, if we aren't living out in the country this summer at least we'll be camping out. A lot. And oh my, it's going to be cute.)

… and a way-too-late drive to the country, keeping my kids up way past their bedtime with a spontaneous jammie run for rhubarb and playing in the country. (Gravel Road Therapy. You know. Interestingly, we found ourselves at the other two farms we nearly offered on, playing and feeling almost "at home"…)

… and a glass a couple of glasses of whine er, I mean wine as the sun slipped away.

What are you grateful for today?

Well good morning to you! On Friday I told you there was purging and de-cluttering in store for my weekend. And oh, was there. I'm excited to share the transformation with you. Let's start with photos, shall we?

The before shots below are truly horrifying, but necessary to appreciate the beauty in the afters. (The afters are horrifying because it's been rainy and the lighting deep within my cabinets ain't the best. Bear with me and see the simplicity rather than the bad lighting.)

Here are a few transformations from my kitchen.

The baking pan cabinet. Before…

…and after.

Jars and mixing bowls. Before…

… and after. (The top shelf just holds a small collection of jars, thew rest of the bottom is our glass milk bottles.)

And my personal triumph, the tea cabinet. (This one I keep opening just to smile at the order hidden behind the doors.) Before…

…and after.

Nice? I think so. There is actual open space in there! Amazing what that does for my chi.

Truth be told, I barely got outside this weekend. The stomach flu made a surprise appearance for half of my family, so we punted and stayed home, with the exception of a neighborhood campfire on Friday and a dog walk on Sunday.

But for my epic fail on getting outside, I rocked the house de-cluttering like nobody's business. Yes indeed. We purged in oh so many ways this weekend. (But that's probably more information than you need.)

As I mentioned on Friday, I broke down the house and yard into "zones" last week and assigned a group of zones per week (starting today) for the next five weeks. My theory was five weeks, five sets of "zones" and the house would be done. Simplification round 1, complete.

By Saturday morning I had rocked out have of this week's list a few days early, and by Sunday night this week was done (my part anyway as Pete was in bed feeling like death) plus a decent chunk of what I thought I'd get to in two weeks. 

Unstoppable I tell you.

Granted it was easy since most of my family wasn't eating (no need to cook or wash dishes!) and they were asleep for vast portion of the weekend, but regardless of the circumstances it was crazy satisfying to crank it out.

The kitchen. The pantry. Both bathrooms. Two hall closets. A substantial bit of the basement. (my most dreaded purge of all.) The kids' books. All done. The basement is filling with boxes this time around as we're breaking our habit of giving it all away and are planning a rockin' tag sale.

There is still a lot to be done, but I feel like we can actually pull it off this time. Things are in motion. There's no stopping the momentum.

"Do I love it? Do I need it? Does it belong in my dream home?" These questions are ringing in my ears. I'm letting stuff go that I've moved with more than once. Like a dusty bottle of tequila. My rock climbing gear. Some lovely wooden toys. And yes, my yoga mat.

A friend and I had a conversation about letting go of things in the context of my weekend agenda and she made the inspired comment that we define ourselves with our things. We paint a picture of who we want to be rather than who we truly are by what we cling to. And while I don't want to be a tequila drinker (not at all) I do like the idea of yoga and wanted to keep my mat. It's a picture of me that I've clung to for five years, as I have clung to that mat.

But I don't do yoga. I haven't done yoga. I am letting go of the idea of Rachel as yogi.

I'm over that vison of myself.

I'm moving on.

I'm keeping my cross country skis and letting go of my snowboard. I'm ready to embrace who I really am. And that means purging the idea of who I-think-I-could-become in exchange for the real me.

There's a life lesson if I've ever had one.

Love,
Rachel

(Photo of me asleep by the creek courtesy of Sage.)

The weekend is coming. Where will you spend it?

Personally, I am a woman with two missions. One inside, one out.

Mission One looks like a long list of what-simply-must-get-done-inside-of-my-house this weekend. Remember this? Yep. So do I. Or I am in the process of remembering it again anyway. I'm back on it with a mission. An end date even.

I've gotten pretty firm with myself and I broke down the house into areas that need work. (If you must know, every room and every closet are on the list. Yes, even the backyard.) I've assigned myself one to three spaces per week, no excuses. By June I'll be free of all this clutter! Eeek! That's my plan anyway.

Are you still simplifying or did you, too, fall off the simplicity wagon? Climb back on with me! I'm so ready for the space (physical and emotional) that comes with letting go.

Oh, but there is still Mission Two. You see, it's also spring. The ramps and nettles are up. Through my windows I can hear the birds calling. And I really want to be outside. Constantly.

The weekend around here is supposed to be cold and rainy. (Some might even say "miserable" for late April.) But despite the work going on in my closets – and despite the questionable weather – I'm planning to get out in it just the same. A little foraging, a little hiking, a little gardening, a little something – one way or another. Heck, just having tea on the porch isn't a bad way to spend the morning, even if I do have to wear my mittens.

What about you? Will you join me? Which mission will you take on this weekend?

Some of you know me well enough by know to know that I am giddy over spring. (I even pined away for spring in my very first blog post back in 2008.) There is something about that transient division between the more extreme seasons that has called to me since childhood. Fall is spectacular. But spring. Spring is my bliss.

Yesterday, we did not clean the house as we had hoped. That was delusional and by 10:30 I called the kids together and said it was time to abandon ship and get outside for goodness sake. Alas, I think cleaning might have to wait until we move, or perhaps until summer – which ever comes first. (I know what my preference is on this, but it has little to do with how I feel about cleaning.)

So instead of cleaning the house we simply cleaned the clothes and hung them to dry in the sun.

And as I hung the laundry I realized – few chores make me as cheerful as this.

My clothespin apron (pictured above and worn nearly every day from March until November) was made by Rachel at Stitched in Color. I got it from her years ago, won on her blog when she hosted a giveaway. If you love this practical and cute apron as much as I do, you can use her tutorial to make your own. (Oh look! That's my very apron pictured there, with a few less miles on it.) Why I haven't made these for everyone I know with a clothesline I'm not sure. I'm also not sure I ever told Rachel how much I love it and how if it ever is beyond reparable I'll cry a while, and then sew another one for myself. Hopefully now she knows.

How I hung laundry without it I can not say.

To keep rambling about my apron, simply for the sake of an amusing visual, It's not uncommon to see me wearing this apron, loaded with wooden clothespins, over – or worse, under – a cooking apron as I bounce back and forth in the summer between canning and laundry. Two aprons at one time. Domestic overload! (My grandmas would be so proud.)

But I digress. The point I am trying to make is that I love hanging out the laundry. It is a chore, yes, but a chore that I love. My 80-something next door neighbor line dries her laundry year round, but she's tougher than me (and has less laundry to hang). I am a above 32F line dryer, and love these first warm days simply for the laundry. Line-drying season is back!

While the laundry flapped cheerfully in the wind just a few feet away, we balanced all that clean with some dirty – the other work /pleasure of our day. The garden.

Yes, we're expecting to move any time now. But really. The sun, the thaw, the possibility of spring. Who could pass up that rich, black earth and not tuck a few seeds in? Clearly no one in this house. So we planted lettuces, greens, beets, radishes, carrots, and peas. It was hard to stop. We just kept at it, blissfully turning soil and delighting in all the life we found out there. Worms! Grubs! A caterpillar! We didn't come inside for dinner until nearly seven, and there's more we'll do tomorrow. But we planted. Our garden. One last time in this piece of earth.

It was good for my soul. 

And do you know what? Tomorrow my house will still be dirty. But chances were pretty good that even if we had spent this gorgeous day inside cleaning it would have been dirty by tomorrow anyway. I think there's no question we made the right choice.

Get out there and play today, won't you?

Love,

Rachel

 

Oh, my. There is a season-shift afoot. The snow is gone, the temps are rising, and the earth is becoming soft beneath my feet. We find ourselves outside in the mud and the sunshine all day, playing in the warm breezes and getting lost in the magic of this unexpectedly early spring.

Inside we seem to spend just enough time to make a good thorough mess and then run off again. Wow. Our house is trashed. So today, we will clean. A little anyway. And then we'll head back out into the garden and the yard and the woods for another day of pseudo-spring as we'll dance to the music of the birds.

And before bed, as always, we will read. Even in the outside-all-the-time spring there is time for reading. I haven't shared our favorite books with you for a long time. Some of these I've shard with you before (our perpetual favorites), others we have joyfully discovered more recently. Happy Tuesday, and happy reading (if you can make yourselves sit down for long enough).

Favorite Spring Books for Children

For Lupine (5)

Spring by Gerda Muller

Children of the Forest by Elsa Beskow

Around the Year by Elsa Beskow

 

For Sage (9)

The Magnificent Book of Kites by Maxwell Eden

Earth, Water, Fire, and Air by Walter Kraul

 

For All

Roots, Shoots, Buckets, and Boots by Sharon Lovejoy

When the Root Children Wake Up by Audrey Wood

 

 

 

Yesterday I worked a little, played a little, worried a little and then decided to stop. (The worrying that is.)

Yesterday I got lost in the sunshine and got lost in the moonlight. I smiled at all this warmth on my skin and at all this beauty everywhere I look. Despite the mud and melting snow. So much beauty.

Yesterday I threw open the windows and put aside my to-do list. The dishes the laundry the struggle and the juggle – they can wait. This moment of balance between winter and spring can not. I went outside and stood, dazed, in the sunshine. Smiling.

Yesterday I ate nourishing food and I ate comfort food. And I enjoyed every bite. I know no food guilt. Pleasure only thank you, especially with the pint of ice cream hiding in the freezer (or what's left of it anyway).

Yesterday I watched throughout the day as seven pairs of muddy boots from four pairs of feet piled up on the steps and then three pairs of muddy hands planted seeds into soil in pots out back, too excited to wait for spring.

Yesterday I watched as my kids went looking for bugs in the snow (wearing short-sleeved shirts) and asking neighbors for trees to tap. Something, anything, to capture evidence of the rising temps. To hold the promise of spring in a jar.

Yesterday I let go of burdens and enjoyed this now. Because now is all we've got.

Yesterday I found gratitude once more.

 

Our weekend starts on Saturday and rolls through Monday in the winter. So today is technically still a weekend day but I wanted to pop over and say hello to you all. Our weekend (so far) has been filled with homemade nettle chai (adapted a bit to replace the black tea with nettle, rooibus, and raspberry leaf. Yum.), visits with old friends, lots of knitting, plenty of quiet, and lazy afternoons spent snuggled up reading on the couch.

I cast off the stash mittens last night (here they are on Ravelry if you need details) and joyfully wore them out into the cold this morning. Cozy! Today we've been reading our favorite wild edibles books, dreaming of spring, and spending the day in a long string of serial-crafting: watercolor. paper crafting. sewing. knitting…

I do hope your weekend was filled with sweetness and pleasure of your own making. Right now I'm late for a (ridiculously adorable) Lupine-made game of "pin the crown on the princess". I'm off to play! Happy Monday, friends.

What's that you say, it's Saturday?

I hope your weekend, like ours, is filled with learning, playing, growing, and being. My tea cup is full, and my spinning wheel is waiting.

Love,
Rachel

I did it. I conquered the bathroom cabinet. While it isn't perfect, I'm not going for perfect. I'm going for that full trash bag out the back door (expired things, broken things, and irrelevant thing – teething oil? My baby is five.) and a full box headed to the thrift store (you know, that extra humidifier, – we needed two because why? – jewelery and hair clip overload, random baskets and bins we don't use.) And the cabinet is now spare and ordered. I think I pulled it off.

It all started on Sunday afternoon when I found myself unexpectedly alone. Pete and the kids had wandered into the basement to playing with an electric guitar, keyboard, microphone, amp, and some pedals so there was little chance of them surfacing. I looked at my knitting. My tea cup. Maybe I'll just knit a few rows…

But then I remembered the check-in comments and emails you've sent in the past few days. Some of you were wondering if there were any simplification updates. And, um, there weren't.

Tragic as it is, last week's going-ons zapped my simplification steam and I didn't progress on purging for days.

So I put aside my knitting and dug in.

All the while I was telling myself that I could stop anytime and pick up my knitting. I could quit after one shelf if I wanted to, and then at least one shelf would be done. And that helped. Because this cabinet is a perpetual stress for me and a difficult space to tackle.

Check out the before and after above. Better? Yes indeed. (Why did we have 10 toothbrushes for four people, I ask myself?) And it feels so amazing to open those doors.

Just a couple of notes:

1) Yes, we brush our teeth with soap. We used my toothpaste recipe for ages but once, when we ran out, we just used our soap. And it was fine. Bubbly. Lovely even. And still is. In fact, I kind of love it. Yes, it's soap. Yes, it tastes soapy. But it's really not that big of a deal if you spit and rinse. It took the kids a few days to adjust but that was over six months ago and they haven't questioned it since. Currently (pictured above with the toothbrushes) we're using Purification, but we also love Sweet Soul Sister and Gitchigumee. And it keeps the swearing at bay for sure.

2) The train case is decopagued with Nikki McClure art. I am secretly in love with her. Or at least her art.

3) The little boats are from Nova Natural. Along with a basket of sea shells they make up or small collection of tub toys. They are delightful.

What simplification spaces have you triumphed in this week, or what's on the docket for the coming days?