These Farmhouse Bookshelves
It has been too windy and cold since Easter for much gardening. Asparagus crowns, strawberry plants, and a net sack of seed potatoes are all waiting, more patiently than I am, to be planted out. If April showers bring May flowers, then I am hoping April hail and snow really do the trick. While the storms rage, I read up a storm indoors....
What Comes After Easter
On Saturday morning, Jonathan and I woke up in the dark. I took my time peeling back the covers. I debated whether or not to change out of my pajamas. Eventually, I wrapped myself in a bathrobe and tiptoed down the stairs. Outside, I stepped into my tall, rubber gardening boots and wondered if Jonathan was inside warming his hands by...
Life Right Now
Life right now is all about watching the giant magnolia tree over our chicken run slowly unfold its blossoms. Life right now is also a forecast of cold and (though I refuse to accept it) snow that might put an end to these pink petals over the weekend. In other words, life right now is beautiful and hard. Life right now is discovering...
We Will Stay
I write fondly of this beautiful, crumbling old house, but the actual crumbling makes me want to run away crying. I crop and edit my instagram photos to emphasize beauty, but the truth is often a whole lot less beautiful. The truth is original wooden windows layered with paint. There are rotting sills and decrepit, ill-fitting storm...
These Farmhouse Bookshelves: Before and After
The record of post drafts here on my blog dashboard tells me that on January 14, 2016, I was working on a new installment in my occasional series of book recommendations, These Farmhouse Bookshelves. I never finished that post, and I didn't read anything for a month. I want to finish that post, but I can't finish it seamlessly. Everything...
No Longer Afraid
Yesterday, there was softly falling snow. Today, there is a hard rain hurling itself against the windowpane. In my ears, the quiet shush of snow has always sounded like the voice I most want to hear. It has always seemed like the embrace of the One who is so often hidden from us. But if the snow whispers I Am, this rain screams Why? Why? Why?...
