My Dream House

I found another pouf.

Even more on sale than the first one.

Malachi thinks they are both just for him.

He backs up to his chosen pouf carefully, and perches comfortably on the edge.

Last night we drove up to The Land again, where Nate's brother and his wife are building a house.
We destroyed our recent car wash in the muddy driveway.
The drive there is beautiful, through winding country roads, but it takes so long that every time we go, my heart sinks a little. I want to arrive in eight minutes, not eighteen.
And yet once again, we are leaning towards building a new house on a grassy hill, with woods and ponds all around...
It would be a shared house with Nate's mom, with her part of it on the other side of the garage.
I got to thinking about my Dream House.

Before the recession, before a long period of unemployment in our family, before the children were grown, we thought a lot about dream houses. Everyone did. Imagining them was a luxury that all of us could partake in.

But I've decided that my dream house has little to do with square footage or bedrooms or views.
My dream house is where my dreams come true.
And it's in this house, this inconvenient, ordinary house, where my dreams have come true.
We've had some bad moments here, but mostly the moments have been good.
It's hard to leave a place that holds all the memories of my babies, my children, my maturing marriage.
It's hard to leave a place that has held so much love. 

So why move?
~For one thing, we could have three bedrooms on one level, and Malachi could finally have his own room.
He does not want his own room. He likes sleeping in mama's bed. But mama thinks that a room for his stuff, at least, is a good idea.
~We'd have more space in the living room, for the times we're all together.
~Finally, a master bathroom. And a closet. It's been so good for me to have a tiny closet, it keeps me weeding out the stuff I don't wear or need. But it's a crowded mess no matter how much I toss out.
~We'd move for the peace and quiet, for the space, for the country life.
~I am so fed up with my overwhelming gardens, I'm ready to ditch them and start over. I am never caught up. It would be nice to have a simpler yard with more fruiting trees.
~And you guys, I have to admit: I would love decorating a new house. We'd have a strict budget, but still I imagine a bit of marble in the kitchen, soft natural wood tones, white cabinets and distressed-wood shelves, big windows and simple curtains drifting to the floor. Something like this fresh country kitchen.

And what has to happen first? Well for starters, my husband has to find work in the area. He doesn't want to drive two hours every day back and forth from the Cities. We would have to either rent or sell our house (I'd rather rent it. Then I can sneak into this yard and take perennials as needed).

And no matter where I live, if the ones I love are with me, it's going to be home.

Three Peonies

This.
In beakers, in a vintage lime-limned planter, on my kitchen sill.

This makes my heart sing.
Because there's no flower like the peony,
and no leaf like the hand-painted hosta,
and these are the last peonies of the season.

Place something beautiful above your sink,
and the daily chores that march through this space
will be brushed with beauty as well.

Have a lovely weekend, my friends.

Something New, Something Blue

"There are two ways to get enough.

One is to accumulate more and more.

The other is to desire less."

(G.K.Chesterton)

These days, it's all the rage to have Less Stuff.  

The best rooms, the nicest houses, have almost nothing in them.

Nothing on the counters, nothing on the floors.

Very little on the walls.

It's as if people have stopped cooking, or playing, or making messes.

Well, not here.
In this house we cook. We eat. We play a lot.
And we make messes every day.   

And through it all, we try to make do or do without.
(Especially since our breadwinner broke his knee and can't work for three months).    

But you guys.
I found this pouf, this ottoman, this perfect comfy thing. On clearance at Target.
I should have two, but they only had one. And one costs half as much as two.
So it came home with me.
And although it's hard to see from the pictures,
it matches the blue fabric of our throw pillows almost exactly (but not quite. I do like things a bit off).
This is a blue I love, a robin's egg color, restful but not boring.
It's one of the colors I sprinkle throughout the house.  

Here it is, a trifle more icy blue, on the mantel in a Japanese fishing float. 

And here, in a vintage Ball jar and a mini fishing float.   

And here, more electric, in merest traces on a piece of old farm junk.
From a distance the gray and blue make a hazy robin's egg color.

Here is the pouf and here is the pillow,
here are the books,
and here is the golden sunny corner,
where I will cuddle and read with my toddler.  
Here is sacred space.    

So what do you think? Should we get another pouf?
The room isn't big, only 13x17 feet, another ottoman might make it feel too crowded.
But I do so love things in pairs.



The mantel painting (from hickory to white) is in progress, I'll post about that when it's done.   

Sources:
Ektorp chairs from IKEA
Pillows made from linen and velvet fabric scraps (Joann Fabrics)
Blanket from IKEA
Canvas photographs of Malachi by Bellasaluti, Minneapolis
Vintage telephone from Yarinacocha, Peru
Pouf from Target

Recipe for a Beautiful Bed

What comfort I find in the common ritual of making the bed.
To float the white sheets over the expanse,
and watch them settle into place,
the way my mom used to do when I was little.
She made it look easy,
but for a child, it wasn't easy.
It required some height and some strength in the arms.

I couldn't wait to grow up,
into a woman who could hover gracefully around her bed
and shake, smooth, yank and toss the linens,
until everything looked wonderful.  

You don't need a Bed-in-a-Bag
(Please, please don't buy that).
You don't need to spend wads of money at Pottery Barn or Restoration Hardware.
You do need to keep your eyes open, collect what you love as you find it,
and take your time.

Here are the ingredients:

Natural fibers (cotton, mostly. And a bit of linen, a scrap of silk)
White sheets, preferably with a stripe in the weave so it's easy to lay them correctly
A duvet insert
A duvet cover
2 pillow shams
2 euro shams
1 or 2 throw pillows
A quilt to toss or fold at the foot of the bed  

This duvet cover was $30 at IKEA. I know white can be scary, but white can be soaked in OxyClean overnight. Then it looks almost new again.
The big green shams were found at Salvation Army for $5 each, new in their packaging. I keep trying to figure out if they're the same color. They look slightly different from each other. No matter, perfection is not the goal here.

The scallop-edged euro shams, Ralph Lauren, a travesty at $175 each. WHAT?? Of course not. I found the first one at Marshall's for $10, then I had to hunt for the second one on ebay. It cost more, but was still a steal compared with the full price.

A striped bolster, the insert was from IKEA for almost nothing, the cover was on clearance at Pottery Barn for under $2. You gotta keep your eyes peeled! Good deals abound! 

This raw silk pillow cover was found new at the thrift store, originally from Target. But somehow, over the course of its life in our topsy-turvy house, it got ruined with paint. Burgundy paint, of all things. I don't even approve of burgundy. I dug it out of the closet a few weeks ago and decided it needed to be rescued. It got a linen flower to cover the paint daub, then a calico flower for good measure. To make the flowers, cut out concentric circles, using bowls and glasses as templates. Stack them up and tack them into place with a few stitches, finishing with a vintage button on top.  
    

 

The calico flower matches one of the fabrics on our quilt, made by a dear friend when I had Malachi.

What you don't see:
The bed frame, which isn't the Wesley Allen iron bed we used to have (it made a nifty antennae for electrical waves), 
or the dark wood headboard from my Grandma, which replaced the iron bed. 
We had to move the bed to another wall, the window wall, to further avoid electricity.

So the bed isn't perfect. It's a big, plain wooden frame (no metal anywhere), and I'm not going to show you pictures of it. The bedskirt doesn't fit well over the wooden corners. Maybe someday we'll figure that out.

For now, I do love to make the bed,
my white oasis in a a loud and busy house.       

Take the Long View

Speckled and spiny,
fat and crowded,
this aloe is not exactly beautiful.

It's interesting.

It's a live sculpture,
grown from a tiny sprout
that my Grandma gave to me.

It makes its home in a German pot
perched on a mirrored gear. 

But what is this?
In my dining room,
sharing air with the aloe
and the driftwood cross
and my new tree-basket chandelier?

It's a beautiful mess.
You can see Julia's leather accessories here. 

In the backyard, the meadow grass is brilliant green. 
The trees have not yet leafed.
Malachi loves to stand at this window and gaze outside.

This week,
I'm trying to take the long view.
The days are spent restoring order,
picking up toys,
calming tantrums,
settling a restless little one down for a nap. 
(I had amnesia as far as raising a toddler was concerned).

When I back away a bit from the myopia
of the dailyness
of it all,
I see the picture more clearly.

What a mess meets the eyes of my heart.
I feel small and helpless in the face of such sorrow.
I want to do something.

I've been awake since before 2:00 a.m.,
my mind flitting from thing to thing,
the way minds do.
Memories of our family day yesterday,
walking around the Island on Julia's campus.
Images of our latest house plan.
A beloved friend's face.   
Children around the globe, misused and tormented.            

Slowly, I gather my thoughts
into prayers.
I lay aside the flights of fancy 
and begin to notice the burdens that I'm bearing.
I lay them before Jesus, one by one.

It is not a small thing
to bring before the One Who Sees
my faltering pleas
for mercy.
   


"If any of you feel, But how can we be happy while we are burdened by the sins and sorrows of the world? I say to you, 'O thou enemy, destructions are come to a perpetual end...But the Lord shall endure for ever...He shall judge the world in righteousness' (Ps. 9:6-8). The day when that word will be fulfilled is on its way, it is hastening. So in faith and certainty we rejoice, for sin and sorrow shall not endure forever; they have an end." (Amy Carmichael)










 

Decorating for Easter (mismatched beautiful)

I dearly love to set a table.
Even with mismatched dishes (how is it that I don't have nine matching bowls?)
and Malachi's determination to help,
this table got mostly set.
Several months ago, we moved our small group (it's like church with close friends) to our house,
since our baby was so destructive at our friends' house that I spent the entire time chasing him.     

It's lovely to gather with friends. 
 

As I was setting the table, placing the chairs, plopping the daffodils in their glass beakers, 
I thought of Jesus preparing the feast for us.
After the work he did, he so wants us to come to the table.
I thought of how hard I was working, making everything beautiful (in a mismatched fashion),
while keeping my little guy out of trouble. 
I would have been so sad, so very disappointed,
if our friends had not shown up.   

It's all about the people, people.
And by the way, I didn't use eggs on this table.
I decorated with flowers and rocks.
A rock is a good symbol for the Resurrection.
        

Before I found and washed the rocks,
before I gathered the missing goblets,
and placed loaves in the basket,
and ladled hot stew into the bowls,
and before this table was surrounded by people I love,

Expectancy was in the air.    

I was reminded of a story. 

¹⁶ Jesus replied: “A certain man was preparing a great banquet and invited many guests. ¹⁷ At the time of the banquet he sent his servant to tell those who had been invited, ‘Come, for everything is now ready.’
¹⁸ “But they all alike began to make excuses. The first said, ‘I have just bought a field, and I must go and see it. Please excuse me.’
¹⁹ “Another said, ‘I have just bought five yoke of oxen, and I’m on my way to try them out. Please excuse me.’
²⁰ “Still another said, ‘I just got married, so I can’t come.’
²¹ “The servant came back and reported this to his master. Then the owner of the house became angry and ordered his servant, ‘Go out quickly into the streets and alleys of the town and bring in the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame.’
²² “‘Sir,’ the servant said, ‘what you ordered has been done, but there is still room.’
²³ “Then the master told his servant, ‘Go out to the roads and country lanes and compel them to come in, so that my house will be full. ²⁴ I tell you, not one of those who were invited will get a taste of my banquet.’” (Luke 14:16-24)

It's going to be a crazy party, guys.  
And in this upside-down kingdom, 
where one little old mama who is exhausted by her toddler can be welcomed 
(all the better if I'm feeling poor and crippled, right?)
and can be seated, and fed, and heard, 
until I am deeply rested and restored,

in this kingdom,  
everything will be even more beautiful
(mismatched beautiful)
than I can dream or imagine.

 

Happy Easter week, friends.    

(You still have time to start your grass. It takes four or five days to grow to this height).

Links:
Vintage springs can be found here.
Mexican Posole Stew recipe is here.

Planting Time

Now is the time
(in the week before Good Friday)
to scatter the wheat berries
onto dark, fragrant potting soil,
sprinkle them with water,

and wait.

In just a few days,
little green shoots will appear.

Every year I do this.
Even this year, with a baby who toddled along behind me and ate the seeds. 

    
"Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it abides alone: but if it dies, it brings forth much fruit." (John 12:24)

(I get my wheat berries at the Anoka health-food store, where they are sold in bulk).

Birds

All the real birds have burrowed in to find refuge from this fresh snowfall.
We have about eight inches, clinging softly to branches and rooftops.
It's supposed to melt soon, very soon.

From now till spring, I'm going to need daffodils from Trader Joe's every week.

What's happening around here: 

~We toured the big expensive houses on the Rum River and got some good ideas for our not-so-big house.
~We visited my great-aunt and beheld her new washing machine. Her old one was 45 years old. We asked for it, because it looks promising as a possible desk. The spin canister will make a fine garbage can. Nate thinks it might make an interesting chandelier, but we'll start with garbage can and go from there. Photos soon, I promise.
~Julia turned 19. Like all of us, she is a work in progress, but like Mary Poppins, she is practically perfect in every way (yes, I know I'm her mom, but she's been wonderful ever since she got out of the Terrible Twos). I am so thankful for her. For the first time in her whole life, I did not get to see and hug my daughter on her birthday. But she's coming home today, so we'll get lots of hugs then. 
~Malachi was diagnosed with two cavities. None of my other babies had cavities. We're figuring out treatment options. We don't want him traumatized by the (strapped-down) in-office procedure, but neither do we want the $3500 hospital bill from an anesthetized out-patient treatment.
~The real birds have been enjoying our neighbor's crab-apple trees. Even at the end of winter, some fruit still remains. As the clusters of birds whirled and swooped upon the trees, Malachi looked out the window and exclaimed, "Oooh! Oooh!" Daddy came along and said, "Oh look. I think those are Cedar Waxwings." Makes me laugh.    

Blessings on your weekend, and (of course!) here's a song for you. Ben Kyle is a very good local musician, catch a concert if you can. He's from Belfast and you will enjoy both song and story.

March Forward

It's been a busy month, busy in the way that life with a toddler keeps me on my toes all day long.
The days are slowly warming up (although today is a set-back, we're in the single digits again),
so in this picture, Malachi is sporting a new pair of shorts.

Our March has been both quiet and eventful, with stretches of boredom interspersed with warrior prayer sessions. 

~Our kitchen island is covered with a flurry of house plans. Nate's mom is a house designer, and she keeps reworking our ideas (she's so patient). Then Nate and Anna Kate and I peruse her plans and dream up changes. I haven't wanted to move. I love our location and I'm fond of our house. But as we pray about it, I slowly feel my heart softening. If we move, it will be about a half-hour north (farther from church, farther from friends, farther from Red Wing, farther from our kids' universities). That thought makes me feel lonely. But on the other hand, as Tevye would say, we could finally get a house that fits our needs. And that thought makes my heart soar.

~Caleb, our second son, asked his lovely girlfriend Krista to marry him. She said yes! They are planning a summer wedding. I am a fan of short engagements. It will be a small family wedding. Soon we will begin coaching Malachi on walking a straight line so he can be a proper ring-bearer. (Malachi lost out to Isaac for best man honors).

~We always have plenty to pray for, but right now the list is especially long. At the very top is our earnest request for healing for a close family member. If you want to pray with us, we are calling on the Lord to restore our nephew's health. He is very young and he has Type 1 Diabetes. Sometimes when we don't know how to pray, I remember the words from Jesus and I ask, "Make this on earth as it is in heaven." In heaven there is no diabetes, no fear, no dread that the other shoe is going to drop.     

~Malachi got a bed. Now this is a pointless bed, since he sleeps with Mommy and Daddy and probably thinks he always will. We placed it at the foot of our bed and covered it with a beautiful quilt made by our talented niece. He had so much fun watching Daddy and Anna Kate put it together. He keeps climbing on it and jumping on it. I know a day will come when he will sleep in this bed. In fact, maybe we will build a new house and he will have his own bedroom. Then I can decorate it with grays and blues pulled from the quilt, and maybe, finally, get a full night's sleep. I can't even imagine what that must be like.                 
 

(Quilt by Lisa, bear by Great-Grandma)   

This might be a reading nook, or a jumping place, or a cute little bench. It's certainly not where Malachi plans to rest his weary head every night.

Moment

My sister up and left me.
She went to Asia to teach conversational English for three months.
I told her if she had gone to France or Ireland, I would have figured out a way to visit her.
But I must admit,
the pictures she's been emailing have been beautiful.
Strange, some of them, to Western eyes,
but the tiled roofs, blooming flowers, green swards of park grass,
and sweet faces of her new friends,
are captivating.
It's another world
within our world.

The picture that really stood out was one she snapped inside a store.
It showed a bright yellow knit ensemble,
emblazoned with bold English words:   
Moment
Cherish This
Not Not
Trend
Original
Change
After recovering from our fits of giggles,
my daughter and I resolved to never wear unknown words on our persons.          

For some reason, in my labyrinth of memory,
(maybe it was the word "moment"),
the sequence of words brought a song to mind.
"Day by day, and with each passing moment,
strength I find to meet my trials here.
Trusting in the Father's wise bestowment,
I've no cause for worry or for fear.
He whose heart is kind beyond all measure,
gives unto each day what He deems best,
lovingly its part of pain and pleasure,
mingling toil with peace and rest."

(It's a Swedish hymn by a woman named Lina. What's not to love?) 

Now, of course there are days
when we cherish not not the moment.

Days when the trend is painfully original,
and we balk at change. 

Many years ago, I went on a field trip to Underwater World at the Mall of America.
Our school of four-year-olds and adults was herded into a back room
and taught all kinds of things that the general pubic doesn't get to hear.

We learned about starfish. 
A Spanish scientist, testing the regenerating capacity of the creatures,
took a starfish and blended it in a blender.
(Try not to shudder, they don't have brains. Still, kinda icky).   

He took the 300 tiny pieces of starfish out of the blender,
placed them in separate petri dishes,
and waited.

300 new starfish grew.
Perfect little starfish.

Imagine that.
Wonder at the power of life,
of regeneration,
of the truth that the broken bits inside of us  
(sometimes the tiniest shards) 
can grow into something whole and beautiful.

"Therefore we do not lose heart.
Though outwardly we are wasting away,
yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.
For our light and momentary troubles
are achieving for us an eternal glory
that far outweighs them all." 
(II Cor. 4:16,17)      

 

Still Life

 

Well would you look at that.

The Grip-Stand bowl from Downton Abbey,

spilling over with orange-gold grapefruit.

How thankful I am, to fill my house with fresh fruits and vegetables

all the year 'round.

Every morning I juice half a grapefruit

and two clementines,

and I pour the juice and pulp into the glass.

Malachi and I can't get enough of this sun-shiny start to the day.

Have a glorious weekend, everyone!

Love Extravagantly

Another cold morning.
Another polar vortex.
Another day of sunshine flooding into the house.
It's so deceptive.

This week we have another funeral.
We didn't know the man who died, but we are old friends with some of the family.
It seems to us that he was robbed of about forty years.

A dear friend of mine is a young widow,
and I have seen her walk this path of loneliness.
The evenings are especially hard.
Time hasn't made things much better.
She has grown accustomed to this new life,
but she doesn't like it.
What does one say to a widow who was happy in her marriage? 
Words can't make up for the loss of a person. 

After a funeral, a house fills with flowers.
But I say,
buy flowers today.
Fill the house with life today.
Be generous with your love, today.
Forgive, and bless, and cover with kisses,
the flawed humans that grace your little world.    

¹² We don’t yet see things clearly. We’re squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won’t be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We’ll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!
¹³ But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love.
(from I Cor. 13, The Message) 

To hear the most epic of his many epic songs, listen to Josh Garrels here.