while on a hike

playing with light (no photoshop!)

two tiger swallowtails resting on the moss midday

tree blossoms mid-morning

blossoms early afternoon

hydrangea at dusk

hydrangea at dusk, back-lit by porch light

blossoms at dusk

hydrangea up close at dusk

blossom caught in the rain, early evening

hydrangea in the rain, early evening

hydrangea in the rain, early evening

on simplicity

In recent weeks, I’ve learned, or perhaps rediscovered, a hard truth.  I embrace wholeheartedly the Quaker ideal of simplicity, but the truth of this ideal that a lot of Quakers don’t talk about is this: Living simply is actually quite complicated.  And I don’t mean just in terms of clearing out the massive rubbish that daily life accumulates so quickly and so easily.  I mean from the harder aspects of letting oneself off the hook, letting stuff go, and just being.

As a perfectionist, I struggle mightily with all three of these things.  I wrestle with the yin and yang of striving for perfection.  On the one hand, I am thankful never to be complacent about my life in all its many facets.  I am thankful for an incredible work ethic.  And I am thankful for my persistence in building and maintaining relationships with others and with ideas.  But on the other hand, I wish, perhaps more strongly, that I could give myself the same gentle “it’s going to be okay” talk I give to so many others so much of the day.  I wish I could let myself just be, take problems one step at a time, and deal with roadblocks I put up one brick at a time.

So while on break the last two weeks, I’ve worked really hard to let myself be.  I’ve tried tackling projects around the house to simplify our material lives one step at a time.  I created two sanctuaries for us: one in our bedroom and one in our shared office/creative space.  And it feels good.  I still have the tendency to look at all the other projects left waiting, the piles of boxes to be recycled, the areas of the house still left to re-organize after yet another community member in our little household has moved out.  But I am trying to stop and breathe, to outline what it would take to solve the insurmountable problem step by step.

In addition to removing stuff from our lives, I’ve also tried to put in place or back in place some good “me” habits.  One of which is more reading and writing.  I have already made two trips to the public library and now have a stack of books, with more on the way, to fuel my mental fire and inspire me to simply be with a book and a cup of coffee or tea.  I’ve written down my thoughts every day for the last four days, letting myself breathe on paper or on the computer.  I even finished a piece of writing I started back in January about my paternal grandfather.  It felt so amazing to give him the gift of my words—to know as I sent the simple piece on that I was showing him a piece of my soft, inner core.

I want to hold on to this feeling that while living simply is hard, hard work, it is possible.  You just have to do it step by step, word by word, and breath by breath.

harvest dinner (or an alternative thanksgiving)

Because we’ll be traveling to Montreal this year for Thanksgiving, we decided to host a harvest dinner, or an alternative Thanksgiving feast before Thanksgiving so we could visit and eat delicious food with the other part of my family.  I spent much time at the farmers market selecting our food for the evening, and we all pitched in to set the table and cook the food.  Here was our menu: curried butternut squash soup—spinach, feta and Israeli couscous salad with red wine vinaigrette—homemade honey oatmeal bread—garlic mashed potatoes—roasted acorn squash with sage butter—steamed green beans—french silk chocolate pie—apple raspberry pie.

photos:

1 paper garland

2 place setting

3 found natural materials

4 table

5 pie crust weaving

6 couscous salad

7 full plates

in the fall

music: “the girl” by city and colour

We spent the past week in Indiana visiting my family, and although it was an adventure getting up there, we greatly appreciated the drop in temperatures, the changing colors of the leaves, and the time spent with loved ones.  After spending evenings outside on the porch drinking wine and eating delicious home-cooked, often locally produced food, I want to instill that sense of calm in our own home in the evenings: even with graduate school, working full time, and other stresses, we should strive to sit down and enjoy the cooler temperatures together, with nothing but our thoughts to keep each other company.  What is your resolution for this fall?

from the week

I thought a lot this week about simplicity.  Given the recent stresses at work, I’ve tried my best to return to the small things in life that make each day memorable rather than another source of exasperation.  In a world surrounded by the new, the “must haves,” and the ever growing temptation to surround oneself with things, it can be difficult to wade in the sea and come up with a single, smooth rock, a piece of polished glass, or a white, unadorned shell.  And yet, in spite of all those voices seen and unseen encouraging me to give in to my desires for more, I find myself seeking the simplest things in life.  I look forward to those mornings when it’s time to start the next batch of bread: when I fit mixing the simple ingredients of salt, sugar, flour, yeast, and ice water into a bowl into my daily morning routine.

or when I find the tiniest tomato just ready to be plucked from the vine, after returning home from a busy day at work.

And then there are the amazingly beautiful things discovered, built by nature, that never cease to inspire: have you ever thought just how simple it is to build one’s home where you currently are, as the spider does, rather than moving along some imagined trajectory of success? As someone who moved nearly every 3 years growing up, I am finding the quiet joy in living in a place and letting myself settle into this life.

But I have found that no matter what each day brings, at the end of the day, there’s always a good book to curl up to, and that is just enough for me.

little by little

Now that spring is here in full force, we both have renewed energy to amp up our sustainability efforts.  Although Kevin’s been recovering from a series of injuries after a bicycle accident, we’ve managed to maintain our balcony garden, among other projects.  For the past week, we’ve kept our garden watered using only grey water.  We’ve taken to using a large bucket as we start our showers, and then using that water for the garden.  We’re also watering our houseplants with water from the dehumidifier.  This past week, we got produce from the farmer’s market…

…planted new tomato plants and pepper plants…

…hung our clothes up to dry…

…aired out the compost…

…and spent time in our lovely garden.

new spaces

We like living together.

 

a weekend trip and sewing

I found out yesterday that my work has been accepted at a local, creative reuse store in Durham.  Exciting news, but I will have some busy days ahead of me as I make enough pieces to create an inventory for the store to sell on consignment.  My mom and I spent the weekend at the beach, and although it was rainy for much of the weekend, yesterday evening the sky finally cleared to yield a beautiful sunset.

at home

Since being on break the last week, I’ve loved having slow mornings.  I wake up with the sun, make coffee, have a shower, and then set about working on some projects I’ve put off while working full time.  And I’ve gotten to walk with Kevin each morning to the bus stop as he heads off to school.  Breaks are wonderful, and we would love to both be able to work from home some day.

little seed packages for the blog giveaway

(I made a small piece of artwork and a seed package for each person who commented on our blog)

lots of time for sewing

more work in the garden (more details to come!)

and long walks enjoying the changing colors of spring