Tag: Family

arriving

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Earlier in the year Brandon’s parents began talking to us about a family trip to upstate New York (where they are originally from) to surprise Brandon’s grandparents for their 60th wedding anniversary.  We were really excited because 60 years of marriage is a huge accomplishment and worth the long haul to gather and celebrate.  Also, we looked forward to seeing all of Brandon’s roots and having some time together as a family.  Brandon’s dad offered to rent a large home on Seneca Lake that would house us all.  Since it is about a 12-hour drive from home, we decided to split it up into two day chunks.  The first day we drove (and by “we” I mean Brandon.  He let me knit the whole way!) to Luray, Virginia, met up with everyone (Brandon’s parents, brother + wife + baby, and sister) and did a fun tour of Luray Caverns.  We spent the night there, got up early and headed to Seneca Lake.  Isn’t it gorgeous countryside?

The home Dad rented was just perfect.  Absolutely beautiful and with an incredible sunrise view every morning, tucked away at the very end of a laneway situation behind a hops farm.  The kids had been anticipating this for weeks and were nearly beside themselves with excitement to spend a whole week with Baba + Nain (Brandon’s parents) at a lake!  After we arrived, we unloaded and promptly deep-cleaned the entire kitchen (making it a gluten-free celiac safe-zone for our Phoebe girl, such a gift to us!), the kids were out on the water.  Brandon took them all out for a paddle boat ride, and then Phoebe wanted to upgrade to a tandem kayak with Baba before deciding she would just manage her own little boat.  She is pretty amazing in the water, fearless and quick to learn.

The next morning Brandon was trying to sneak out of our room at the crazy hour of 4:45 or something.  He couldn’t wait to go fishing.  I crept out after him and literally gasped when I looked out toward the dock and saw the sun swelling up just ready to burst over the horizon.  I grabbed my camera and nearly ran out to get pictures and take it in.  It was so serene and stunning, we couldn’t help but get up at least by 5 am every morning to catch each sunrise.  It’s dumb, I’m sure–we should have been sleeping in on vacation–but we don’t get to see that kind of glory every day and in our minds, it was worth it.  Every day boasted a different sky, each sunrise and sunset entirely new.  It was pretty incredible and I relished the early morning quiet, reading, sipping coffee, knitting to the quiet sounds of the lake.

summer getaway

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We’re heading out of town so the blog will be quiet for a week or so, most likely!  We have a long drive ahead of us and a week by a quiet lake to look forward to, gathered close with family.  I’m looking forward to laughter, snuggles, sleeping a little later, having uninterrupted time with Brandon, reading, knitting, journaling, and reconnecting with loved ones!  Share all about it with you guys soon. ❤  Until then, happy summering in your corner of the world.

june celebrations

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The middle of June is celebratory for us, my birthday as well as my mom’s being on the 14th (yes, we share a day!) and then Father’s Day just a few days later.  It feels apt for the very middle of the year, half gone by, to mark it with some feasting and cake.

My birthday fell on a Tuesday, the most ordinary day of the week, which is just fine and dandy by me.  I’ve always felt a bit like a plain and ordinary sort of girl.  I was successful, however, in finagling Brandon into celebrating my day over the course of a few days.  🙂  The Saturday prior to my Tuesday, we had a few hours without the kids to walk through a few shops downtown and grab a bite to eat at a favorite sandwich spot.  On my day, B offered to take me out to dinner, but I really feel like a breakfast out is my kind of deal, so we took the whole fam to one of our favorite local spots, the Corner Kitchen in Biltmore Village.  This is maybe one of the first times we’ve taken Phoebe to a non-gluten free restaurant, so we packed her own bowl and cereal and milk, and it was a little stressful knowing the environment wasn’t gluten-free, but I think we all felt pretty special being able to eat together as a family at a restaurant and I don’t think Phoebe even noticed that she didn’t have anything off of the menu.  That girl loves her Nature’s Path cheerios.  Brandon went off to work as usual, the day was a little hectic for me with errands, and then in the afternoon we gathered at my parent’s house to celebrate together with my mom and the rest of the family around.  My mom even ordered a special birthday cake made by a local restaurant that has a dedicated gluten-free kitchen, Posanas.  They made a decadent chocolate ganache cake for us, and it was extra special because we could all eat it together!

B wasn’t supposed to get me anything for my birthday, but he ended up surprising me at home with a couple new bath supplies that he picked out for me at Earth Fare.  He is so cute, knowing that I love lavender and tea tree, and finding a few things to surprise me with.  I think my cards from all the family this year were my favorite, I received such sweet and life-giving words from siblings and parents and Brandon.  Of course, words mean a lot to this gal.  My parents went above and beyond, spoiling me with some new all-clad cookware (!!!) as we have been using the same pots for the last 10 years, some kind of target teflon pots that have been all scrapped to smithereens, probably killing us slowly with carcinogens day by day.  I’ve been trying to switch to stainless steel and cast iron as I can afford it, so I am so excited and thankful!

Later in the week, Phoebe and I got around to making a (grain-free) lemon lavender ricotta cheesecake together from Nancy Cain’s cookbook.  We love pulling on our aprons together, she always picks the yellow one, and I the red and white one my grandma sewed for me.  We put it in the oven and went out for a walk in the neighborhood, then got distracted chatting with a neighbor and suddenly remembered our cheesecake baking away, and hurried back home.  It was a little too browned, I would say, but just delicious!  I meant to have some whipped cream to top it with, but forgot, and the kids actually loved it, which surprised me.  Usually they don’t like lemony things.

My birthday always seems to coincide with the blooming of the hostas, their regal green necks and purple crowns.  Different things blooming all year long mark the turning of the seasons for us, without our even realizing it half the time.  I feel so incredibly blessed this birthday.  I really am living my dream, mother to three precious children by the side of the man I adore.  Even in the midst of the regular challenges and trails of life, I am really content.  Or at the very least, learning contentment.  I read this scripture this morning, “You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory” (Psalm 73:24).  What peace!  What a life!  What an incredible gift.  All of my days, guided by his loving, good counsel, keeping me in the path that leads to peace and blessing, and then afterwards, He’s just going to take me right on into glory.  GLORY.  My soul can’t help but sing a hallelujah to that.  I find that the hardest seasons that I am facing are only making His presence and grace all the sweeter, instead of pulling me away from Him, and what a mercy that is!  That is certainly a work of His Spirit in me, not of my own wandering flesh.  The Psalm goes on, one of my very favorite passages of all time, one I can almost never read without crying: “Whom have I in heaven but you?  And earth has nothing I desire besides you.  My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever” (Psalm 73:25-26).  He really is enough for us.  There really is hardship and heartache that threatens to break us, but the reality is, Jesus won for us everything we need to be content when He won salvation for us on the cross.  There is nothing that can truly shake us, nothing that can steal that peace and security and joy that He won for us.  What a priceless gift!

After all of that celebrating me, it felt quite appropriate to turn out attention to Daddy on Sunday.  We stayed home from church because Philippa had been up most of the night coughing.  There’s something very grounding and restful for us in staying home for a full day and being all together.  It was a gift.  B did work on a table he’s building in the garage, I sat near him and knitted, played guitar, sang hymns.  The kids rode bikes up and down the street with a neighbor boy they befriended, and I carted children in the bike trailer for rides.  We were outside all day until late in the evening, cooking hot dogs wrapped in a grain-free pretzel dough over the fire.  It was a nearly perfect evening, until I realized how shallowly Philippa was breathing and how raspy she sounded.  I whisked her off to the ER and didn’t get home until around 1 am.  So, there was that.  (She was laboring a bit too much to breathe, they did a breathing treatment and she’s on a round of steroids, but already improving.)  Brandon cleaned everything up, bathed the other kids and tucked them into bed, washed the dishes and kitchen, then sat out by the fire reading late into the evening waiting for me and the baby to get home.  That’s the kind of Daddy he is, even on “his” day, doing what needs to be done, serving.  We love him so much, he really is our whole world in so many ways.  Happy Father’s Day to all of you Daddy’s out there!

setbacks

MarthaKimball2 Comments

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It’s been hot here this week, at least in my opinion.  I’m a big baby when it comes to heat.  We’re keeping a little kiddie pool filled on our porch for the kids to play in and cool off, which they often swim in in their undies and then run around the yard like little wild indians.  We try not to appear too white-trash but sometimes you do what you must to keep kids outdoors and away from screens while it’s hot and humid.

June has been sort of up and down.  My brother and his new bride came for a visit early in the month after their honeymoon to Iceland, and we had a blast soaking up as much time with them as we could during that weekend.  Phoebe is quite attached to her new auntie.

I took Phoebe for a weigh-in recently and found she had lost a little more weight and her BMI has dropped again from 7% to 4%.  I know overall since her diagnosis we have seen her gain about 5 pounds and gain a few inches in height, but the fact that she keeps gaining and losing and not having the kind of “catch-up” recovery that the research suggests she should has me worried.  We’ve been keeping a food journal the last week and going over her caloric intake with her nutritionist and she believes we should try and get another 400 calories per day into Phoebe.  That’s NO SMALL FEAT, I tell you.  It’s hard not to be discouraged and to feel like we are facing impossibilities.  It’s hard to not grow weary in this work and throw my hands up in frustration.  But sometimes you go on simply because you just have no other option.  This is the hand that has been given us, and this is the work the Lord has given in this season.  It makes me fall on my face a lot, yet I can see so much good in it all, even though I find my soul complaining often.  Some days are good and we feel strong and capable, other days the fear rages and the weariness threatens.  I have learned to be honest with the Lord and to just walk with Him in it all.  I cannot tell you what a comfort the Psalms have been to me in this season.  I am listening to them constantly on Sandra Maccracken’s new cd Psalms and also Shane and Shane’s Psalms, Vol. 2.  I’m reading them daily in Tim Keller’s book The Songs of Jesus.  I cannot tell you how often I don’t have words, yet the Psalms somehow impart them and pull the words out of my soul in prayer to God.  His Word is like oxygen to me.  We press on in hope and trust.

I’ve been helped by Sara Groves’ words in this video as she shares some about her struggle with depression and anxiety, specifically her question “What is the Gospel that saves me?”  When the anxiety builds, I come back to this.  What is the Gospel that saves me?  Health?  Ease?  A thriving child?  These things are legitimate longings of my heart, but will my soul survive if God doesn’t give these things?  At the end of the day, my hope isn’t in a certain result, it can’t be, because that is a frail hope.  At the end of the day, my hope must be in Jesus and the promise of a secure future with Him no matter what comes on this green earth, a future where He will finally heal all disease and right all wrongs.  I am beginning to understand Jonathon Edwards’ plea: “Lord, stamp eternity on my eyeballs.”  If I can shift my perspective, usually my view of the present changes and I am able to find my way through.

By the end of the summer if we haven’t seen considerable growth in Phoebe, our nutritionist is recommending we seek a second opinion by a pediatric celiac specialist, which will entail some travel to either Georgia, Boston, or Chicago.  Pray with me for growth?  And for wisdom and endurance in the journey.

In other random bits and pieces of news, I’ve been taking a few photos for my dad and husband’s building and remodeling company for their website and also to make a little extra income.  We were out snapping pictures of a gorgeous deck they built recently, and the kids were happy to see daddy and what he was working on.  I had to snip off my little Noah-man’s beautiful curls this morning.  He needed a bit less hair in all this summer heat, and I needed to see his eyes again.  I don’t do a terribly great job, but at least it’s free and he doesn’t mind my imperfect cuts.

I still love June, even with all of its ups and downs.

when you feel like it all depends on you

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There seems to be a magic to these longer June evenings, where the light stretches long and we let the kids stay up a little later just to savor it.  This is our last summer before we start schooling, and it is sobering a little.  I was reminded earlier this week that we only have 18 summers with our children.  I only have 13 left with Phoebe.  I read these words by Ann Voskamp earlier this week and brim with tears.  Soon I will be on the other side of all of these busy childrearing years.  And so I make plans and ideas to really enjoy this summer together, most of them simple.  And the laundry overflows, the bills pile, the decisions need to be made, and the headlines scream news that breaks my heart and makes me feel helpless.

And we have dinner together as we usually do, and I laugh as I look over to see Noah pushing buttons on his pretend phone.  We have a “no phones at the table” rule, we remind him with twinkling eyes.  He says he is “just checking the Bible,” already wise to the powers of persuasion.

They bathe and get in their jammies, and then beg us to go out for a walk.  We relent, and I grab my camera as we head out the door.  Phoebe carries a bucket to collect her treasures (whatever flowers, pinecones, and leaves that catch her eye).  We head down to our little neighborhood lake to check on the new baby goslings, and are happy to see momma duck and all 8 of her ducklings.  We tell the kids to sit down and be quiet so we don’t scare them away and much to our surprise, momma duck brings all her babies right up the hillside to us.  They are peeping quietly and pecking around on the road and then promptly head back to the water.  It is such a sweet moment, all the children hushed in wonder.  It is as if momma duck wanted to show off all her babies to us.  This will be our third summer in this neighborhood and the first time there has been so much wildlife at the lake.  It provides a lot of opportunities to teach and observe and then go find library books and explore topics and questions further.

And I quiet my soul and praise God for the way He provides perspective.  My soul hungers for wilderness places, even ones as tame as our little lake, because I remember, I see again.  Getting up into the high places far from the noise of machines and man, as my husband and I did recently, gives perspective.  I see the city and houses lying far below, tucked into the hillside and valleys and I wonder at God’s perspective.  How small we all are!  How tiny our little homes and streets and lights and city buildings!  In the grand wide world, smaller still.  But then to get knees down in the dirt of my own plot of ground and wonder at how much is going on here without my involvement or help or notice — fiddleheads unfurling, birds finding food and shelter, trees growing leaves again, bees pollinating, ducklings hatching.  What a vast bounty is here, teaching me of the abundance of God through the incredible diversity and variety of creation.  The species of trees and flowers that I cannot even name or identify, the rain that falls on the mountain peaks dripping through the mossy ground into springs that form streams of water cutting down the valley and crevices, nurturing it all, slowly finding its way into my kitchen sink.

God is above it all.  God looks on it all.  God sustains it all.  God does not need my help in order to accomplish it all.  This land is a loud song of His abundance.  His creativity.  His ability.  His goodness.  His control + sovereignty.

This land is a loud song of my smallness.
My dependency.
My limitations.
My frailty.
My humility.

These are good things to remember.

And maybe you need to remember, too.  Even a small walk in your neighborhood or a nearby trail with the intent of noticing the small things, the hidden things that are growing and living without a hint of your involvement, can be helpful.  It can help loose the tight bonds of worry and fear and self-sufficiency, to a joyful restful dependency on a good God.

The laundry, the gritty floors, the decisions, the finances, the needs and the headlines: it all matters, and I am responsible to be a faithful with what He gives me, busy working.  But He holds me together.  It is all falling apart, but He holds me together.  He holds you together.

Do you not know? Do you not hear?
    Has it not been told you from the beginning?
    Have you not understood from the foundations of the earth?
 It is he who sits above the circle of the earth,
    and its inhabitants are like grasshoppers;
who stretches out the heavens like a curtain,
    and spreads them like a tent to dwell in;
 who brings princes to nothing,
    and makes the rulers of the earth as emptiness.

 Scarcely are they planted, scarcely sown,
    scarcely has their stem taken root in the earth,
when he blows on them, and they wither,
    and the tempest carries them off like stubble.

 To whom then will you compare me,
    that I should be like him? says the Holy One.
 Lift up your eyes on high and see:
    who created these?
He who brings out their host by number,
    calling them all by name,
by the greatness of his might,
    and because he is strong in power
    not one is missing.

 Why do you say, O Jacob,
    and speak, O Israel,
“My way is hidden from the Lord,
    and my right is disregarded by my God”?
 Have you not known? Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
    the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary;
    his understanding is unsearchable.
 He gives power to the faint,
    and to him who has no might he increases strength.
 Even youths shall faint and be weary,
    and young men shall fall exhausted;
 but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength;
    they shall mount up with wings like eagles;
they shall run and not be weary;
    they shall walk and not faint.
Isaiah 40:21-31

 

first gifts of summer

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The days are heating up, thunder rumbles across our skies most afternoons.  We bend and obey the weather, spending our time outside in the cool early mornings, hunkering down after lunch for naps and quiet and stormy weather.  The city markets in Asheville are opening again, and Phoebe requested that we buy a big bucket of fresh strawberries at the last one we went to.  They really were the best strawberries we’ve ever had, and she’s eaten handfuls every day.  We made these grain-free strawberry shortcakes together for dessert with whipped coconut milk.  All my kids love helping in the kitchen, and I’ve been trying to once again make more of an effort to let them help more, especially Phoebe as the oldest.  Both she and Noah are learning to handle a knife and chop things with me assisting, of course.  She’s been asking for a french braid every day pretty much, and she is asking often for me to “picture” this or that.  She really likes to put on a super cheesy grin for the camera, while I prefer catching the more candid moments.  Maybe the phase will pass.

We also made our first round of popsicles, just blending yogurt, honey, fresh strawberries, and a little bit of flaxseed.  We dropped a few blueberries and chopped chocolate chips in, too, for fun.  We bought these BPA-free molds last summer and used them almost weekly.  We pulled out our little plastic pool from the garage and filled it up for the first time the same day my parent’s neighborhood pool opened.  So, pool days are officially here and we are thankful!  It’s not terribly relaxing for me to take them to the pool but it is maybe the best way to endure the muggy heat of the summer and still have the kids outside for part of the day.

I scribbled down a bunch of family plans and goals for the summer, things I want to make and do with the kids, parts of the yard and house I would like to organize and tidy and rearrange as we start to prepare for homeschooling this fall.  I realized I don’t do very many crafts with the kids, and I’d like to have a space with craft supplies and maybe attempt a once-weekly craft time with them, at least.  We play a lot outside, read a ton, and they are often imaginative and having unstructured play time, but children just love doing crafts, having mommy’s full attention and getting to make a mess and create something beautiful at the same time.  I’m checking this book out from the library for some inspiration.  And I’m taking them to story time for preschoolers at the library, which has music and craft time.  I should probably have been doing it sooner, we went this past week and all had such a fun time.  I made this incredible granola this past week (per Alicia’s recommendation), needing a cold summer breakfast option since Brandon and I both are a bit tired of eggs and pancakes, alternatively.  I forgot how much I love having a good granola on hand, and this one is so simple and fast to make with a very small ingredient list.  I think we’ll be living off of it this summer.

Last weekend we drove up to Balsam Mountain on the Parkway to visit one of my best friends from college and her family.  They live in TN and whenever we come close by one another we do our best to sneak in a visit.  They were camping for the weekend there, and we wanted to join them but just didn’t pull things together in time so we went for the day on Saturday instead.  What a treat it is to see our kids play together, and just to be outside together by a campfire, snacking, catching up and laughing.  When Brandon and I were first married and moved out to Colorado, they moved out also to a nearby town and some of our best memories were sharing times with them there.  I told Mary in a text later how much these brief hang outs make me ache to live closer to them.  When we left, we saw an elk on the roadside, and a few wild turkeys as well.

These are the early gifts of summer.  The first fruit from the vine, the gathering with friends, campfires and pools and the hopes and dreams for these sunny warm days.  Our last summer before school begins and we transition into a new season of family life.

 

uncommon grace

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Sometimes we grow restless and we chaff and squirm against what has grown common to us.  Sometimes we rebel against our boundaries and we ache for other borders.  We beg for a change of scenery, for fresh springs.  This wasn’t the land of our choosing, or so we thought.  Sometimes in our leaving and ultimately in our returning we find again why we loved these mountains in the first place.  Maybe one of our greatest sins is that we grow accustomed to glory and call it common.

And then we find our way back, our way home again and we remember: these mountains hold all our stories.

Look, over there!  That was the place where we first met.  There was the river where we had that boating trip.    Over there is where you proposed to me.  That valley is where we fell in love.  We hiked that ridge on our first 21-day course together.  I grew up picnicking over that hill.

These mountains hold our stories, memories, like markers.  Reminding us, rooting us back in the greater story, God’s story, the over-arching story of His kindness to us, His faithfulness to us, His sovereignty over us.  These mountains that we buck against like enemies are strong friends rising up all around proclaiming, “He is good!  He is loving!  He was enough!  He will be enough again.”

We can go on striving and tearing up the soil looking for something to grow, or we can surrender to what the Lord has done and is doing, looking instead for what is here, finding what is praiseworthy, finding all the gifts already around us.  We can go on striving, or we can be satisfied now because He is with us in this land that sometimes feel small and cramped.

The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup;
    you hold my lot.
The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
    indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.

Psalm 16:5-6

 

(Planning to have a longer post up tomorrow with more about last weekend’s backpacking trip!  Stay tuned!)

preparations

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This blog post was supposed to go up last Friday, but we were so busy with preparations that it didn’t make it.  For the last number of weeks, Brandon and I have been planning a weekend backpacking trip alone together without kids to celebrate our tenth anniversary earlier this month.  We originally met working together in a backpacking program leading trips, and we have led many trips together, but never, even after all these years, have we gone backpacking alone together just for fun without some sort of programming involved.

Our life has grown so domesticated in these child-rearing years.  Most of my life is spent within the walls of our sweet home, and I love it immensely!  But it can feel terribly tame sometimes, and I can be lulled into complacency by the false perception of control that a domestic life engenders.  I can stay up late knitting by the light of a lamp or reading well into the early morning hours of the night.  I can turn on a tap for water, and throw dirty clothes in a machine.  I can have access to all the information I need or want at the drop of a hat via my phone, which is usually within a few feet of me at all times, or via the computer.  I can check the week’s weather forecast and the local grocery stores current sales and plan meals accordingly.  It enables me to run a tight ship when I want to and to feel on top of what I perceive needs to be done.

My days didn’t used to be so tidy.  The wilderness was so much a part of the structure of my days (being an Outdoor Education major in college) pretty much since high school, and it felt like second nature in my college days to read maps, know how to pack a light pack with bare minimums, to know the necessary knots, how to read the weather via the sky, etc.  I lived a life more dependent on the circumstances and conditions of nature that I cannot control.

I remember, too, how Brandon and I were when we led trips together.  The rhythm we found ourselves in, the way we worked like a well-oiled machine, the way he gently led and taught, and I supported and followed.  It’s how we fell in love.  Somehow in all the rat-race and the complete depletion that parenting can do to a couple, we’ve lost some of that.  We don’t have much financially to do anything really extravagant for this year’s big anniversary, though we dreamed of all sorts of ways we wish we could spend it.  What we both were craving was just a getaway, our first time away from the kids for a full weekend, and to be able to do it for next to nothing cost-wise.  I suggested backpacking, and the wheels began turning.  We wanted to hike this ridgeline, starting at the highest peak east of the Mississippi, that we hiked during a 21-day backpacking course we led in our early days of marriage.  We called it “the blacks” then, the Black Mountain range, and it is absolutely one of the most stunning areas in our NC mountains.  We had to sort of fly over this ridge during that 21-day course, and I was aching to be back there and camp on it, explore, and linger.

Most of last week was spent making last-minute preparations for the trip.  Brandon’s parents were happily willing to come and watch our three little ones for the weekend, which is a lot to take on!  Three kids ages five and under, two in diapers, and one with special dietary needs is not a joke!  So we were super stoked and grateful.

It was so fun pulling out our old now-ghetto backpacking equipment, checking everything and prepping everything, making lists and meal plans and looking at routes.  We wanted as luxury of a backpacking trip as we could have, while still being able to fit it all on our backs.  The process of planning and anticipating it was so fun, somehow breathing some new life into our marriage.  Having something to talk about other than battling insurance companies, bills and financial strain, tactics for dealing with children’s behaviors, petty arguments over who will take care of what, and so forth was really fun.  Having something to plan and orchestrate together beyond our usual lives, something that was just for us and by us, was relaxing and exciting.  We were hungry for the time and space to reconnect with each other.  We were hungry to experience God.

Friday afternoon, Brandon’s parents arrived and we packed up and headed out.  We arrived at the top of Mt. Mitchell in a full on blustery mist and drizzle, which developed into a full-on downpour.  Somehow, even though it wasn’t quite what we were imagining, we were ready for whatever the wilderness wanted to give us, ready to leave behind for a couple of days our tidy lives for a bit of adventure.  Phone off and camera left in the car, backpacks shouldered with grunts and moans, and we were off.

“He split the rocks in the wilderness,
And gave them drink in abundance like the depths.”
Psalm 78:15

spring at the farm

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A couple weekends ago, Brandon was working and I was feeling antsy to get the kiddos (and myself!) out of the house and doing something fun so that we didn’t mope around.  We headed to one of our favorite local farms in nearby Fairview.  There are a couple of farms on that stretch of road, and one of them has fields of u-pick wildflowers.  I was hoping and itching to see some fresh blooms but not much was growing yet.  We did, however, buy a couple pints of their fresh organic strawberries.  The day was a bit overcast and chilly, so the Hickory Nut Gap farm was nearly empty, which made it especially fun.  It kind of felt like it was ours for the day.  We saw the new chicks in the coop, and Philippa LOVED seeing the goats.  She calls any and every animal a “goggie” (doggie) and is the most animated when she sees a goggie.  She was trying to go up to the goats at the fence and pet them, but when one bleated she was so startled and came running back to me terrified.  They have big culvert slides for the kids, and a little picnic area by the creek.  They played in the water and we had lunch, and headed home wet, tired and happy.

Later Phoebe helped me make gluten-free strawberry oat bars.  I adapted this recipe from these applesauce oatmeal bars, but have changed it so much that basically it’s my own recipe now.  Because Phoebe is not eating oats right now in addition to being gluten free, I substituted almond meal for the oats (i’ve heard you can sub quinoa flakes too, but haven’t tried that).  For the flour I sub some kind of gluten-free flour mix.  I use about 1/4 cup of maple syrup instead of brown sugar.  And I use my own homemade strawberry jam instead of applesauce, which is from my favorite grain-free cookbook, the Grain-Free Family Table.  I think you can see the recipe for the jam scribbled above.  I l o v e these bars, they are not too sweet, the strawberries give them a hint of tartness, and they can serve as a snack or a dessert.  They were a bit crumbly, I was thinking I may add a teaspoon of grass-fed unflavored beef gelatin next time just to help them hold together a bit.  We’ll see.  Anytime I can sneak beef gelatin into my kids, I feel very accomplished. 🙂

It was a really beautiful, serene day on the farm and I so love where we live and finding free fun nearby.

 

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a mother’s day garden

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Brandon has been working such long hours lately, working most Saturdays to make some extra income, which is a blessing, but we are definitely feeling the strain of it.  There isn’t a single morning that we have together to just be home with no agenda and have a slow morning.  This past Saturday, the kids and I went and picked out a few plants for a very simple, small container garden for the porch for my mother’s day gift.  Basically, greens, cucumbers, and tomatoes, and a pot of herbs.  The barest of essentials.  I really miss having the space and light at our last house to have more extensive beds.  For now, though, this is about the only spot of full sun we have in the summer.  We planted together late Saturday afternoon before Brandon pulled in from work.  Sunday morning, Mother’s Day, I was still feeling pretty icky from a nasty chest cold I had been fighting, so we decided to stay home from church.  It was the most glorious morning, a nearly perfect Mother’s day.  Brandon let me sleep in (till like 7! haha.  i kept thinking “hurry, go back to sleep!  this is your chance!” and eventually gave up), then brought me coffee and my bible/journal and knitting wip basket.  It was heaven to just stay in bed, linger over the Scripture and not have children clambering over me and asking me questions before my coffee has even brewed.  It didn’t last too terribly long before little curious feet found their way to my bed, but how can you resist snuggling with your babes on mother’s day, of all days?  Brandon made a fancy breakfast and we ate on the front porch by our little garden, with bouquets of peonies placed here and there.  We had another cup of coffee together (well, chai for him), and read, knitted, snuggled the rest of the morning.  My parents dropped by to bring a little mother’s day gift + fresh tulips and we hung out for a bit.  It was such a peaceful day, breezy, sunny and perfect weather.  It was a rare extravagance to have a morning like that after our endless morning bustle lately.  What a gift it is to be a mother to these three little ones.  It really is my favorite thing ever, and their ages right now are so fun I don’t want any of it to change.  The days are long and crazy and tiresome and I usually feel completely pushed to the end of my limits at day’s end, but somehow I still would take it over any other job.  It’s good to remember that when I feel prone to complain.