Grace

B has had Grace since she was a puppy.  She's 16 now and more hobbles than walks, and yet she still manages to fold herself up in the funniest ways. 

lunch with Joanna.

My mom is one of my favorite people to spend time with, especially the lunch hour.  Not only does she have a playful spirit and exquisite taste in food, but there is just something about pausing from the busyness of the day and allowing yourself to be refreshed with a friend.  Love you, momma.

*bisous!*

cozying.

This past week has been a busy one.  Between getting the house ready for the winter, and prepping for the holidays, we haven't had much down time.  And yet, we still managed to steal a few moments.

A beautiful, Bittersweet wreath that B made.

 

 

 

 

 

Pear Upside-down cake.  So delicious.  You can find the recipe here.

 

Driftwood candelabra, also made by B.  (I love my crafty husband.)

blanket for H.

I just finished making this blanket for Helen.  (Yes, we named her!)  It's a bit uneven, but so soft, and made with so much love and joy.   

Can't wait to wrap you up in it, sweet, sweet, little girl.  

xx, R

make your bed.

My mom recently shared with me an article from Reader's Digest that was surprisingly convicting.  It comments on one of the day's simplest tasks: making your bed.  Is it really all that important?  I know for me it's definitely a hit or miss chore.  But after reading this, I plan to take that menial task more seriously. 

"At the risk of sounding childish or lazy (maybe both?), I'll just be honest: I hate making my bed.  Rather, I used to hate making my bed.  Why should I bother? I reasoned.  I'm just going to get right back into it later, and no one except my immediate family will see it (and, as it turns out, they are stuck with me and all my covers-tossed-in-disarray).  

But something I read last week in Charles Duhigg's The Power of Habit changed my mind.  According to Duhigg, making your bed every morning is correlated with better productivity and stronger skills at sticking to a budget.  It also boosts happiness.  My interest was piqued.  Happiness?  Yes, I'll take it.  Productivity?  Yep, I'll take that too.  Sticking to a budget?  Sounds good to me. ...

Apparently, making your bed (and other feel-good tasks like exercising and cooking your own food) is a keystone habit: a routine that, if you can identify it, spills over to others.  According to Duhigg, changing or cultivating keystone habits 'helps other habits to flourish by creating new structures, and they establish cultures where change becomes contagious.'  A keystone habit is essentially a catalyst for other good behaviors.

So far I've made my bed for ten days in a row.  And here's what I've noticed: Making my bed inspires me to get my kids to make their beds.  Which inspires me to do the laundry and the dishes and to pick up abandoned stuffed animals, dropped underwear (theirs! not mine), and newspapers-turned-light-sabers as I corral my two toddlers out the door to school.  I look at my watch to see that it is 8 a.m., and the house is an unusual shade of clean before coffee.

...When I leave my bed in a heap, I leave the bedroom feeling defeated by my bed, my alarm clock, and my general sleepy mood.  I'm groggy and reluctant to get the day started.  My internal voice sounds a bit like the strewn covers: 'Noooooo, morning!  Go awaaaaaay!'

But when I look at my freshly made bed, I have to admit it: I smile a little.  I feel just a bit more motivated.  Productive, even.  I leave the room saying, 'Goodbye beautiful little den of tranquility that I have created with my bare hands!'  And I'm ready to tackle the day--crush it, even...."

(Read the rest of the article by Jackie Ashton here.)

So what do we think?  Are we inspired?

xx,

R + baby

P.S. If that didn't inspire you this most certainly will.  

before the snow.

We had our first snow in Michigan this morning.  It's hard to believe that in just a few months I'll be walking through the sister of that snow to bring my little girl home for the first time.  Until then, we're enjoying the last remnants of autumn.

anxiety.

With only 17 weeks left until my due date the reality (and dread, and anxiety, and excitement, and more anxiety) of delivery is beginning to set in.  I know as I grow bigger and the discomforts of pregnancy gradually increase that I'll slowly become more and more mentally prepared for the big day.  But until then, while our daughter is still just a little flutter in my belly I'm really struggling with pre-labor jitters.  

Thankfully I came across two blog posts today that set my spirit at such ease.  Both spoke so clearly of the power and importance of gratefulness when having a baby.  What better way to find joy?  The first was Nancy Wilson writing a simple announcement of the birth of her new grandson.  What really struck me was Rachel's 'birth plan'.

"Yes, it was an unexpected C-section. Hoorah for C-sections! What a merciful God who gave Rachel a chirpy attitude, a flexible birth plan, kind nurses, skillful physicians, and a healthy baby boy who had (at the last minute) wiggled himself into an impossible position. Actually, she told me her birth plan ahead of time. It was this: to be grateful. And she is."   

(read the rest of the post here.) 

As soon as I read this, I went hunting for my friend Jen's birth story.  After a long and difficult labor J gave birth to a handsome, handsome boy.  She is always so genuine in her attitude and I new she'd have some wisdom to share. 

"God provides in every situation and makes His glory shine through in the biggest and smallest ways. I think its easy while pregnant to get caught up in thinking about the delivery and how its going to go, and how you want it to go, but the truth is, no birth plan stands a chance. The important part isn't how you have the baby, it's that you have the baby."  

(read the rest of her story here.) 

So from now on I'm going to stop researching "the perfect birth plan" and start looking at more pictures of babies on Pinterest. Thanks for the encouragement, ladies.  xx, R

Tender

I love cooking lazy.  Having studied briefly at a small culinary school, I appreciate a grand, eight-course, gastronomic affair, but on a cold day like this I leave my Escoffier on the shelf and reach for something simpler. 

My first go-to cookbooks are two gorgeous volumes by British food colonist Nigel Slater: Tender: A cook and his vegetable patch, and Ripe: A cook in the orchard.  Instead of being organized by course, Slater dedicates each chapter to a star vegetable (in Tender) or fruit (in Ripe).  Each section is introduced by no less than a love letter to the produce with tips on selecting and growing and his favorite varieties.  The recipe are beautifully composed (often in prose) and dedicated solely to flavor, not flash. 

A Soup the Color of Marigolds (from Tender)

“It was a simple soup, ten minutes' hands-on work and barely half an hour on the stove. An onion, coarsely chopped, softened in a little olive oil in a deep and heavy pan. An equal amount of carrots and yellow tomatoes (I used 1 pound [450g] of each to make enough for four), chopped and stirred into the soft, translucent onion. About 4 cups (a liter) of water (I could have used stock), and some salt, pepper, and a couple of bay leaves. It simmered for half an hour, then I pureed it to a thick, pulpy broth in the blender. We ended up with four big bowls of coarse-textured soup, as bright and cheerful as a pitcher of June flowers, a few chives stirred in at the table. As we licked our spoons, someone mentioned it would have been good to have it chilled. But by that time it was too late to try.” 

weekend.

 

The best of weekends and the best of ways to begin month number seven!  Love you, Mr. Irish.

Emerson Made.

 

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Thank you, husband!

Macaroons.

A sweet gift from my sweet momma.

Storyboard Giveaway

Click here for more.  (You know you want to.)

A few snaps of my darling man.

With the stresses of managing a small, family business this has been a tough season for my husband.  He's been faced with lots of long days and difficult decisions.  And yet all the while he continues to move forward with faith and ever-growing wisdom.  Love you, sweet man.  Your character is a constant encouragement to me, and I'm so glad (so glad) to know that I am yours.

he loves raspberries.

I asked him to do a cartwheel and he said "OK".

 

*swoons*

rings

I've been so enjoying my rings, especially as they shift and bend the light of this new season.  I love you, husband. 

pregnancy

16 weeks.

Weekend

Friday:

surprise date, compliments of B.

seafood feast and Henry V in the park.

so lovely.


Saturday:

time spent in the garden and around the house.

perfectly lazy.


Sunday:

worship in the morning.

B's homemade rosemary chips and alcohol-free champagne in bed for lunch.

a sunset walk around the property. 

a grass bouquet picked on our walk.

Why I love my husband.

When B goes to the grocery store, this is what he comes home with: raspberries, blueberries, and peaches.  I love it.

A cake for midsummer

I was having a lethargic day today, and did a little baking to perk myself up.  (Well, it was more the eating of the baked goods that did the trick.)  Anyways, after seeing what I had in the fridge, I decided on Nigel Slater's "A cake for midsummer" from his book, Ripe.  As it is with all his recipes, it was otherworldly-delicious.  The main ingredients are raspberries (of which I threw an extra handful in), apricots, and ground almonds.  You can find the recipe here.

 

8tracks

I'm trying to (slowly, but surely) build up my playlists on 8tracks. 
There is so much music that I can't help but return to year after year and season after season. 
I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

Any tunes you just can't stop listening to?

 

Why I love my husband: reason #2

Woke up to this beside the bed this morning.  Thanks, B.  I love you.

Why I love my husband: reason #1

I'm not an early morning person.  That is to say, my mind doesn't start processing until about 8.


This has posed to be a bit of a problem for Brandon and I, as he usually leaves for work around 6:30.  We want to feel like we've spent some time together in the mornings, but not being able to keep my eyes open makes that a bit tricky.


And so B, taking pity on the frailty of my frame, will bring me coffee in bed most mornings.


My face will still be buried in blankets and pillows, when I'll hear his feet fall softly on the carpet of our bedroom.  The mugs tap against one another as he rotates the handle of my cup outwards.  Without saying anything, he'll sit next to me, and after putting a pillow behind my back he'll hand me my coffee.  We'll then clink mugs (we've always done that) wishing each other a "good morning," and steal a few minutes before 6:30 arrives.

Of all the counsel that we were given before we were married, the most valuable to us has been to savor the "small moments."  Strangely this hasn't been second nature to me, but thanks to a very patient teacher, I'm learning.


(Love you, Mr. Irish.)

Blend of choice: Starbucks "Veranda" blend.

Morning music: "Adagio for Strings" by Barber.

A little bit of B for your Thursday

Brandon doing his hilarious leaf impression. 

Surprise

B walked in the door with these yesterday.  

(So, so, SO) lucky for me, he's a regular at our local flower shop.  

Each time he's there they escort him into "the cooler" and he gets to make each bouquet himself.  

Aren't they lovely?  

Thanks, baby.  Love you, xx.

favorite pictures from this weekend

Grace (she hates camping).

Eucher, of course.

Mary!

Forget-me-nots.

B.

The drive home.