the list of three

the list of three

If I were honest with myself, my daily to-do list would be impossibly long. There are so many things I'd like to accomplish in a day. I oftetimes look around my house and see hours upon hours of jobs that need to be tackled, projects I'd like to attempt, corners that need to be cleaned, drawers that need to be cleaned out.

The reality is, I don't have time for everything. I don't get up with the sun (much to my husband's dismay). And on most days, I've got these four little people who keep following me around the house demanding things of me.

So I've learned that it's all about priorities. And figuring out what's really important.

And I've learned that I need to keep my to-do list extremely short. Because it will fill itself up on its own, even if I haven't written everything down.

And so each day I confine my to-do list to three. Usually, these are the three tasks that are really nagging on me. The things I see that give me the "Ugh. I need to deal with this." feeling. An email. A pile of laundry. A bill. An errand. A room that I'd be embarrassed for anyone outside of my immediate family to enter.

Three things? I can handle that.

These three things that are nagging me while I do all the other things? Getting those three accomplished and off my list, that feels really, really good for this mama. That I can handle.

Read More

eating out

eating out

As much as possible, we've been eating dinner outside each night. I came home from the thrift store with this old Coleman last week, and it's been working double-duty as my oversized picnic basket. Dinner each night feels like packing for a camping trip. But with each meal, it gets a little easier. I've got my routine down. 

I'm a big fan of eating outside, even though it means hauling dinner across the yard. I'm not sure if it's the open air, the lack of crumbs on my kitchen floor, the carefree feeling when a glass of milk gets spilled, the ease of scraping of table scraps to the entourage of barn cats and chickens that hover while we eat. 

It's not always glamourous. We're often swatting an over-anxious barn cat with no self-control from the dinner table. And there was the night that the baby starlings fell from the nest above our heads on to the ground around us. I try to forget that night. 

Even so, I'm happy to welcome this season back again. My mother, who loves a well-set table and ambiance would be proud.

red bud

Meanwhile, a few little things worth telling:

*Birdy has begun to clearly call me Mama. I no longer have any power to fight her. I am putty.

*The IOU project sounds fantastic. 

*Kami from NoBiggie recently went to the Creative Estates Conference. She wrote a post about what she learned. I learned a lot from her post.

*Meg shares some kid room inspiration. I really love that last house book shelf. 

*On that same thrift store trip last week, I found myself perusing the shelf of records. Hello!? There was so much goodness for just $1. Flashbacks to my youth (Best of the Statler Brothers, anyone?) collections of classical composers, dramatic readings of fairy tales, Patsy Cline, John Denver....I didn't even have a record player but I bought twelve dollars worth of records. (I was holding back) And now, this week, I have a record player to go with it. I am in love.

*I'd like this in my downstairs bathroom. I'm pretty sure it's from IKEA (it is), but I'm not sure they still have the yellow.

*Over on facebook, they're helping me decide on a new banner. One is pulling in to the lead, it appears. I'll be doing some spring cleaning and shuffling on here later today, I hope.

Happy Wednesday, friends!

 

Read More

so much for boring

Just a few nights ago my husband made some remark about being bored with the winter weekends and how he was so anxious to get going with spring projects and gardening and cleaning up the yard....

So perhaps, I should blame this on him.

Saturday night, as I was finally getting my long-overdue shower--hair lathered, soapy body parts--the water pressure started to change and get lighter and lighter...

With this house's past history, I quickly got most of my hair rinsed before that trickle came to a complete stop. 

I managed to use a freezing cold glass of water to rinse off the rest of the way and called down to Dan, who was oblivious, reading in the living room, "Umm...we have no water???"

it's always something

Long story short, our well pump went out this weekend (yes I did eagerly study that diagram last night.). You know that large pipe sticking randomly out of your yard. Yup. That's where it lives. And of course, is anything ever easy? Of course not. The wrong tools. Buying the new pump only to have it be a broken pump with no continuity (a term I learned this weekend). A trip to the giant hardware store with teenage help who don't know much about our problem. A trip to the other giant hardware store where finding help is like looking for a needle in a haystack.

But, with car lights shining into the yard and a series of family members coming by to help out through the day, by 9:30 last night, almost 24 hours to the minute, the sound of running water could be heard at Thomas Run once again. 

Granted, the water has a beautiful brown tinge. And the kitchen sink is still refusing to give me any kind of water pressure, I'm still thankful that just maybe, I might be able to take a shower later this afternoon.

In the meantime, some other things I learned:

a good reminder from my children

*without water, I had to constantly remind myself that we did have electricty.

*I become obsessed with keeping the house tidy when everything else (like Mt. Dishmore) is in chaos.

*that when the lady at the hardware store UNDERcharges me by $100 I will go back with my receipt and pay up.

*that one day, I wrote this. And it's good to read it again.

*that the lights I see shining from the windows in the farmhouse next door remind me that my twenty-four hours without water pale in comparison to the dear farmer next door who has come home for his final days.

*that we're all gonna be just fine.

Read More

livin' on love

film. christmas eve at thomas run

I'm singing the same old, tired tune I've been singing on and off for what feels like years, "money's tight". We sit and talk about all the "unexpected" things, the fuel bills that make me cringe every time I hear the thud of the furnace kicking on under my feet in the dark, damp basement, the repairs, the bills...blah, blah, blah. Blech.

We are fortunate though. We are blessed. There is light at the end of the tunnel.

But for now, we are having to cinch our belts so tight, it is sometimes painful. 

As the main spender in this family, the person who basically controls where, when, how and on what our money is used, I've had to step up and tighten my belt the most. 

And so, the grocery budget is the primary place that I've made major changes. 

To be honest, I can't even remember the last time I went to the grocery store and did a major, formerly-typical shop. I think it was sometime around new year's day. I have been forced to get seriously creative in the kitchen. If I've been to the store, I've been able to carry all my purchases in, with one trip. No loading, unloading, unpacking.

I am using what I have on hand.

I am digging deep, very deep into my pantry shelves.

I'm pulling out cans and boxes and bags of things that I usually pass by and am "not in the mood" for. 

I've forced myself to figure out how to cook up cuts of meat that have been sitting in the bottom of my freezer, looking at me with intimidating eyes.

I've found forgotten goodness stashed in bottom freezer drawers, in the backs of cupboards.

I've discovered that if we want it, oftentimes, I can make it from scratch. Soft pretzels? I have a recipe for that. Warm rolls? I can handle that. Cereal? How about a batch of granola?

I've learned to make the mundane special. Candles at dinner. Cream for oatmeal (again) in tiny pottery pitchers. Dinner tables set with nice dishes and linens.

I've learned to use less meat. To use it for flavor and protein instead of bulk. 

I've learned to make my grocery list and then examine it again. What really is necessity?

I've learned that flour, sugar, butter, milk, cheese, eggs and beans go a long way for a little money.

I've learned that we really need a milk cow.

I've learned (again) that soup makes a great meal and can have so many variations it doesn't get old. Especially with good homemade bread or biscuits.

I've learned that if you let your children get hungry enough, everything looks and tastes good to them!

It's funny, when we first were married, my husband was the best person to cook for. He'd moan and groan and 'ooh' and 'aaah' about my cooking. But over the years, his exclamations have quieted a bit. (He forgets how good he has it.)

But these past few weeks, when we are eating on a shoestring, when I'm putting together meals that are made up strictly from the things I'm finding in my cupboard, those moans and groans have returned. When things are pieced together, whipped up with less, suddenly everything tastes really good. And I have to admit, I've made some pretty good meals, I might even dare to say a few of our best. We sit down at the table and say, "Look what we did with almost nothing!"

film. waffle hill farm, kitchen

I've pushed myself. I've changed my perspective. When I go to the store--we still need milk, cream for coffee and some fresh fruit and veggies now and then--I look at what I buy so differently. Before I buy something I think about how flexible it is, how many meals I can get out of it, how far I can stretch it. 

But don't be fooled, it isn't this daily great experience. I don't go skipping into my kitchen each afternoon, ready to tackle another creative dinner. There are days I'd trade my youngest child for takeout. (kidding! she's too cute and she doesn't add much to the grocery bill.) There are days I stand in front of my open cupboard doors and want to scream, "I'm so sick of this!!!!!!" But in general, I've been up for the challenge. 

I don't know how much longer we'll need to live like this. The state of our cupboards, freezer and refrigerator is pretty Old Mother Hubbard-ish. Eventually, I'll need to replenish. But like I said, there is light at the end of the tunnel. But I need to hang on for a little bit longer.

The good part of all this, is that I feel like my perspective has changed. I've learned a lot about my grocery shopping habits. I've learned that I can do a lot with less. I've learned that we can survive. 

And I've learned that we are rich in so many other ways.

Read More

a different kind of 365

a different kind of 365

I've always been impressed with my flickr friends who pull off the 365 Project. I like to think with habit, I kind of get a free pass on feeling guilty for never trying it. But at the same time, with habit, I'm not taking a picture every.single.day. 

But at the start of this new year, I read this post at Chookooloonks about journaling. It was "a primer for those who'd like to start the practice in the new year." The post was inspiring to me. And after reading, the idea of it kept haunting me.

I have a five year journal which I love, (in theory). It sits beside my bed, and I attempt to write in it every night before sleep. I also attempt to keep a pen handy beside my bed. But between exhaustion, missing pens at the hand of little fingers, forgetfulness, and good books that I'm dying to dig into, that journal has been a bit neglected.

Habit is a testimony to the fact that I love marking time with just a few sentences. There's no pressure to write and write and write. That whole project has been so freeing. That a lot can be said with less. 

But there is this strong part of me that is still very old-fashioned. Part of me, who wants to be better about putting pen to paper. I think we can all admit to thinking about the evidence of our lives that will be left behind when we are gone . Will my children and grandchildren log on to the internet to read about my life, my days, the things I made and baked, the lessons I've learned, the places I've visited, the animals I've raised, the people I've met?

Maybe so.

Maybe not

So here I am. A new outlook and new inspiration on an old, time-honored art. An old-fashioned way of marking time. 

I am taking on 365 this year, but for me, it will not be through the lens of my camera, but through the words that I put on the page. 

Read More