Being home during this pandemic I am hard-pressed to make this time valuable in terms of finishing home projects and slowing life down to enjoy my kids and find a new rhythm of cherishing time. It feels off to write about my thoughts as others are facing grave sickness and the passing of family. Caretakers risking their lives and the hum of industry being kept afloat by workers meeting our needs. It changed so suddenly, but now I am looking to new ways to be of service to my community, while staying at home.

I began this quarantine by doing. Redoing K's room, hanging art, growing seedlings and cooking round the clock, it seems. I use my body to work through my thoughts. I move my body to find an outlet for uncertainty. To drive anxiety about change into the air, lifting and sent to the heavens for washing. I pray to be grounded like an oak, with wisdom, mindfulness and thoughts of peace.

Five weeks in and these thoughts of mine are turning in on me. They are being pressed up against my mind and forced back in. Restlessness...my familiar internal nemesis of fear that keeps me flitting from thought to thought, acitivity to activity, keeping me from settling in for the joy. It scatters me and I am not sure at times where the pieces are. It often feels like they are floating just above me. I wish they would just settle into a person that is steadfast in all ways. Some times I wish I was a person that knew more about what I didn't like than wanting to be someone who bounces from idea to idea, reckless abandon of one started project or activity to the next. The dandelion. Sometimes the blooming flower, sometimes scattered seeds in the wind, planting somewhere new, learning the surroundings even though it's the same patch of grass.

...hours later I come back to this and a shift in perspective. Almost sad at my negative view. Yes, I can be a bit unsure, uncertain of concrete ideas, but I have to think that this is also the beauty in my flaws. I can look at it like flitting or finding, uncertain or curious. Trying new things out until something either becomes habit or ritual, though I suspect I will always be on the move to find what those are exactly. What it is that keeps me curious or longing seems to be just near, like a hot breath of dragon ready to consume, yet taunting in the chase. Luring and leaving me to follow. I know though as I write these words I feel closer to habit and ritual and closer to taming the animal.

Then I think these thoughts again, as I've written before in a hundred different ways, a hundred different times.

When younger or when older. It's when you decide when you need to express your soul. When you've thought it enough, when you've said it enough, when you've heard it enough and when you listen in the wisdom between the words from an online post, in passing, from family, from friend, or spouse or child; and especially when you finally meet your soul and say-I've been seeking and questioning as all these messages have been filtering through, although you wait on me. So, let's go- Let's be whatever, now.

I think like most I resonate with certain words that encourage, or inspire, or those that have become familiar. Maybe they are words rooted in family, passed along like a recipe, shared as a communal language. Maybe they are words picked up along the way through life, brought about by a poignant moment in conversation, an underline to a standout phrase along a sentence, an intimate study of a process. Some words we use are simple and general, but hold great meaning in our lives. Some of the words that describe the happenings in my life are seen in my tagline~      grow.nourish.artistry.wonder

They are simple, explanatory on the surface, but also reflect personal meanings to myself and the life of my family.

I first think of  Nourish in this way:

Nourish ~ food, garden, recipe creations, taste, thirst, regional foods, seasonal, farmer's market, autoimmune disease, vegan/vegetarian, meat, utensils, raising healthful eaters, farm, cooking with herbs, sustainability, consciousness



I think of nourish as in taking care of the body by way of food, sustenance and health, however there are ways in which I nourish my soul as well

on a short list:

prayer
read

listen to music,

 hold my children and talk with them
watch movies with my husband
cook with my family
sleep
time alone

On that minimal list are the times that make me feel gratitude, for just being. 

Upon entering my forties I am recognizing a different way to nourish, by learning tools for what IS presently, not in the past (regrets) or in the future (fantasy). I'm sensing a pivotal time emotionally where I have awareness of the purpose to meet my shadow self and make amends. Through other familial work I have realized that I disassociate from truths about myself and others as a way to provide protection over my thoughts, emotions and personality. I don't want to face the hard truths sometimes so I hold back in being bold or truthful or exploratory; fearful of what I may fail at or whom I will fail, even though I know neither are true. I've carried physical weight around as bondage to my emotional state. I've drank wine and made lists of things I will do, but never begin. I spewed anger and instantly regretted it, telling myself, next time I won't do that, only to do it again, and again and again. Only when we recognize in the shadow self why we project certain reactions we begin to control our actions.  I recently read that procrastination can be an emotional regulatory problem. In all the ideas that make me feel most like me I waiver. I'm curious where along the way I began to distrust my own ability. I've been become successful in many areas of my life, but according to others not really me. To me I've just burnt the candle at both ends because tireless work made me feel that I had made my worth. Or subconsciously maybe I was putting off big dreams thinking I unworthy of that. I admire those that go after what they are called to do. As we all are, I am in an intricate process of unfolding. I am just acutely aware of actively taking part now. Realizing that I mask my sensitive being because I don't know how to express myself without feeling like I am losing control of my situation, although I realize I never have control, only experiences. I mask my sensitive being because sometimes I was shamed for being too, sensitive.

 I am sitting here waiting on my daughter to get off the bus and I am thinking about me at her age and what I need to connect with internally that would make the then me feel belonging, transverse time and bring that to the present. I will give my daughter a hug, ask her about her day and make her a snack, all with a heaviness in my stomach from reaching deep into my psyche. I'll transition out of that space into the present with her, gratitude for the gift she gives to me, nodding to my Shadow Self that waits patiently so. What a blessing to self-discover. 

Answer the Calling

Last Sunday, our minister, gently reminded, that God's call is today- whether it be for a career change, the new city to live in that has been resting on your heart, mending a relationship, a calling spiritually-your life presenting itself, presently. Take notice and sew it into your day, now. This message resonated, and deeply.  I feel this calling, and this message of today is and has been dwelling, or I should say I have been saying soon, when the list, the everyday list, is finished.  The list that becomes the vice; an excuse. At every urge to  explore more creatively, to do rather than dream, I wave my own list in my face and push up against the last minute, hoping that the very last minute will be enough time to explore my own curiosity of creativity.  But it never is. So I have to just begin, even when it doesn't makes sense or come together exactly envisioned. I finally confess to myself that the anxious feeling I have of time slipping by is only from not doing rather than doing so much. Or rather, it's time slipping by from not doing what I feel a deep tug towards. This feeling is physical. Do what you love- the message reverberates, the message is louder. I feel it in the shock of my alarm when all is still dark, when all is still slumbering in dreams, healing, restoring, growing. I feel it on a walk surrounded by all those vibrant, brilliant colors, even grey, sometimes especially grey.

I day dream about creative exploration. I collect things for it, not knowing what they are for, maybe a practice in keeping a collection of my wanderings and visualizations. What is this hold I have over what I feel so strongly for? What am I trying to control or keep from myself? Little by little, just try. I say just try, and try again until I just feel ease, peace, calm. I've started again...today it's here. A few weeks ago it was with paint. Again tomorrow begins, and it is another TODAY. Answer the calling.

Just alot of pictures of Korlyn because...

pajamas, piano..and oh yes, skates!

oh, her wee feet...love.

because...

...I love her so.

When I was pregnant with Korlyn I would imagine how she might be as a little girl, like sweet, calm, gentle.

and...

She is all of those things, completely.

She loves to snuggle, hug, fall asleep on my lap, put lotion on my legs, put her dolls to sleep under the covers.

This sweet girl cries at the sight of other's tears.

 What I so gratefully get to witness is that she's also...

 really funny, opinionated, emotional- and will

tell you exactly how she feels and how you made her feel:)

I think her sensitivity is wonderful, and I always want to support this in her because I feel it is a beautiful trait to embrace in life.

Even if it is really hard to work through these emotional moments with her.

Sometimes I even feel like I am the kid and she is the adult because she tells me just what to do:). I try to be really understanding of her frustrations, sometimes I am not so good at this and get overwhelmed, yet I think I am really good at returning to our "moments" and am able to calmly talk about our feelings.

Also, she loves to wrestle with her Daddy and Cole, sing, make up words, put on makeup and...

 people.

This girl loves people-hug, talk, ask questions, make jokes, dance.

She's a people person like her Daddy.

I'm really shy and she just opens up in the presence of others. Love this about her...so much.

I love you Korlyn...you wake my smile

Blank Transition

I entered graduate school in a moment of verge... a time when everything seemed to be at my back, pushing against me. Though it all wanted to be released, I resisted like a wall, not letting it go until I was sure I no longer needed it. For a long time some fear was stronger and had let me resist the growth that I had already realized but was unwilling to let live. I am slow to change outwardly although deep inside I am always constantly.

My husband and I decided that I would go back to school, to find a job that would provide, but that I also would love, and that it would be a way to discover this great internal ‘must’ I wanted to come of my personal story, my life, but that I had no direction or understanding of how to move towards it. I went and it was hard and rewarding and the most poignant experience I have ever personally and intellectually gone through; just me. I have had the most profound experiences from having children, but motherhood is not just a concentration of my ideas, and school was, and I broke through. I crossed over…my intellectual lust, and my motherhood grew. I found passion for myself while being educated about education and it pierced my heart in overwhelming ways. I became a better, more present mother for it.

Often in class I felt so much, and to write what happened internally is really difficult, because it is made up of feelings, the ones you wrestle with when you’re learning and changing and becoming.

The ones I can’t accurately say I know what I did with.

 I just know they surfaced out of old growth and formed a new path. I cultivated a new perspective although I feel closer to myself, my soul self, than I have in many years. I was exposed to so many new ideas about education, though I kind of felt that I had always know them, somehow. I felt I had found a source to feed my soul journey. I had many conversations with God, grateful for vulnerability and trust.

So many feelings.

I reflected on everything I had done, and thought, or thought I knew, and I allowed myself to be open to what others had studied and written about public schooling, and about how children learn, and about being equitable and fighting for the story of each child. I shared ideas that I was proud of, ones that kind of shocked me about myself and some that I shudder at because I thought I may have come across, to some, in unintended ways.

I sat in classes where I felt friendship and trust and others in which I felt insecure. I sat like a child does among the cliques and ideas, kinship and insecurity and I realized that these ways of community do not change, but that instead, I have grown deeper inside, and so I know myself deeper and understand how to communicate better, and how to accept difference.

I felt pulled apart and put back together.

I was tired, but refreshed with a new direction to venture towards.

As part of my coursework we spent a great amount of time in our writings using the practice of reflection. After I finished student teaching, I kind of just stopped doing so outwardly, onto paper. I kind of shut off the faucet of letting it all pour out. After a period of shifting away from school and back into a new routine of children out of school for summer and finding a teaching position I once again realize the power of reflection and how recording my thoughts it is a vital compass to directing me back to my best self, over and over again.

There was a period right after I finished student teaching that I felt like I was facing myself from two years ago, before school. I can’t quite describe it, but I felt like I was staring at a blank version of myself. I questioned if anything had really sunk in. I felt like all the knowledge was slowly slipping away; I couldn’t figure out how to transition, or let it guide me to take the next step. I felt I suddenly had to learn something new, to create; to keep the momentum going. I didn’t know what to do though, until a great storm and some simple acknowledgement helped me transition.

Part of this unsteady shift from school to idle has been soothed by what is seen in these photos-tree branches, watercolor boats and of course these silly, sweet, wild souls. I will share more about what I have been making with the branches and boats as I finish. It’s simple, but has helped me revive my creative energy in new and unexpected ways.

Ready, So Ready

I feel I am walking out of a shell, as I finish graduate school and venture into the culture of teaching and learning with young children. I feel different, yet more attuned with myself. There is about to be great change, but I feel I have direction. Grateful for the depth my life has gone this past two years. This week will be devoted to reflecting over this process as I create my portfolio and I just know it will be a powerful time spent in reflection of my whole self.

The August Break~Day Two

Wonder~August Break, Day Two

Although it is past the first of August I think it will be really enjoyable to take part in The August Break, starting the eve before we transition once again into a new school year~walking away from the leisure and spontaneity of summer and into the newness of school~acquainting with unfamiliar people, rekindling friendships paused; as well as being reintroduced to how to grip learning new concepts. So here we are, photos and print, as we start with a more succinct understanding of how to live in joy with the life we've created here-though it will surely change again.

August Break~Lunch

Peanut butter and jelly, or honey, is the chosen main course for these two.

Wonder~those laughs

I have, dreamt a numerable amount of times, and wept the same. But those laughs; no number could encompass....or hold the sacred peace in their meaning.

Grow~My birthday month and the best i've known

Last month I felt on the verge; the weather blending in and out of cold. dreary days and weary spirit.
I sit here today and school suddenly started again and was delayed by snow, and it seems I can't get on top of anything, lastly writing here; though i enjoy it, even if for myself- i feel connected in a sense. And yet, I feel as if I am sitting next to a pile of thoughts and dreams because lately I have been trying, consciously, to shift perspective-not exactly knowing of how to take these dreams and thoughts on, or even the slightest of ways to make them happen. I guess sometimes they just do. I am daily making changes in how I take care of myself, and my family-mentally, physically-the whole. It's not that I haven't to this point, but just in a different way.

Digging more into peace and family connectedness. Holding tight to the moments even as they detach from my grip. Coming to resolution about where I must take my mind so I can become this teacher I am, somewhere deep within and still, yet to be introduced. At the beginning of everything rather than laden in dream-This feels lovely and shaky in my moments, but I trust- I always do. Life happens how we need it, especially when we live with intent and most definitely love. In love with the infancy of new direction carved out of the old roots of growth. I've learned a lot this past ten years- ten years- what a long and short time. I look at 22 and smile through tears at the then unknown journey. Some things heart-breaking and breathless, and even more pure magic. Nowthis month-32-and I smile at knowing myself better than ever, even though I am scared-it's OK. It's the best I've known. So to think of that and what may come I cannot feel but blessed and all about letting in the joy.

Wonder~The lovely process

Have you ever? I've never made bread, like this. It's cooling on a rack. I hope it tastes good- my house smells divine-bread bakery smell. It's taken me three days to make. I didn't read the recipe directions through before I started making it- I had no idea it would take three days. I started on Friday with the ferment, Saturday for rising and folding, salt water and more rising, Sunday to cook. It's been a process- bread is a lovely process. It shouldn't be rushed, it needs time to develop. You have to be present in the process.  I really enjoy learning how to make things from scractch, especially taking time for the process and finding appreciation for the fruits of the Earth that provide such beautiful ingredients to meld and savor. It makes me happy to my soul to be learning how to cultivate with my hands.

Growth~Feeling a little hidden among the changing shadows

The slow shift from Fall to Winter has left me feeling on the verge of everything-anxious almost to just know what it will feel like once this change has settled in and become routine . But I remind myself that change is the beauty;where the power of the Universe reveals itself in unbelievable colors and shapes and lights and energies; and humble hearts, and I suppose the anxious feeling is instinct shouting to take notice; once it shifts you'll miss the newness, it says. But it's hard to recognize this when the day stops short and the mixed emotion of weather tires my bones and causes deep pressure in my head.
Today after two days of rain without a glimpse of sunlight and after the day gives over to night without so much as a sign its closing I begin to waver. I went for rainy walks with Korlyn- her covered in warm layers and I drenched in the goodness of  Fall rain. I listened to music and found every color in the fallen leaves- piercing colors against the rain-painted jet black of the cement walking trail. I gave thanks for everything drenched in dreary and took a deep breath of midst. Yet, I just want to sleep. And as I lay on my bed after fixing dinner, tears in my eyes, as daylight as left me feeling vulnerable in the grip of midnight at 5:00 my three come charging in- drawings in hand. Cole says hers is scribble. I tell him that is how she expresses herself through drawing at this age and his used to look somewhat like hers when he was two. He shows me his detailed drawing of a dragon with colors "in a pattern" and tells me that his has always looked liked what he shows me now. I guess we are both correct. Who knows what she was drawing, but I know she must have had a perfect vision for it. So with warm tears and a fatigued spirit J asks me whats wrong- and I think for the first time, I blatantly admit that the change from Fall to Winter throws me into moody sadness; I sigh in his hug and feel peaceful with my admittance. I go to sleep at 8:00- I've spent years resisting how susceptible I am to shifts of whatever kind- weather, moods, time, permanence- empathic. On the verge of my next birth year I find myself resisting myself less and less. And it feels peaceful.
 My heart the other day in church felt wide open- i could feel the warmth of spreading possibility deep inside and it felt fantastic. Like delicate layers of tissue paper folded gently open and the energy surrounding my heart felt warm and unblocked- like it can often when I worry. I felt on the verge of everything again; except this time it was welcomed with much more hope.

Today the sun came.

Artistry~A Part of my Writing Memoir

 

I loved these rocking chairs in the loft of the cabin where we stayed during our vacation. I wish I could have spent more time here; rocking, wondering, dreaming, internalizing, and most of all writing. Writing from the heart, honestly. While I was here I thought about the intricate relationship between the unassuming power of wind pushing against and flowing through the magnificent structure of the trees. How the seemingly subtleness of the wind can bend and sway a being so revered in strength as we see the trees. I am reminded through and through how the answers are already here, in nature, in our day; if we listen, if we watch, if we see the understanding in the relationship of coexisting. I thought about how every thing and being is a teacher in our lives.

 As I enter this important work of becoming teacher I've been thinking a lot about the voice of our children. I took a writing class this summer and we were asked to write our writing memoir. The most powerful thing I learned in this one week intensive class was that we do not write like we talk. I feel empowered by this understanding. This is not to say  I am a brilliant writer, far from, but that when I write I feel honest and that my writings express the realness of me better than I can often verbalize. Here is part of my writing memoir- I wrote about my writing process. We all have one- whether it's where we sit, or where we are emotionally and spiritually in our lives, even right down to the visual cadence of how are words form on the page. We are all writers because we all have a story to share. Here is part of mine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I like my writings to be tangible. I usually write by pen first. I like to feel the words on paper, looking like inked graffiti, weighted against my hands. By writing I can share and move my understandings and ideas outward; let go of possession over my internalization and instead take ownership of my ideas. Like the last thistle floret gripping against the rounded belly of a dandelion, my words are held close, unsure of when to let go. At first, in the beginning, they are just seeds of thoughts; growing and blooming into fractal formations, a kind of chaotic system of context and convention; parts becoming a whole; Then the detachment.

At first my writings linger close, as the mother does when taking her baby to kindergarten for the first time.

I look up and around as if I am staring at them form against the stationary in my mind. Then like a bloomed parachute my ideas float quietly and slowly downward, towards the page.

Writing allows me to let go. As I write, the words stir and move from within to my fingertips in movement to pen to paper, down along the page allowing me to express and reflect and release. I’m giving over to the words so I can express my growth. I notice when I am energized by authentic free-flow writing, I write fast. My handwriting becomes less legible. My hand tightens to hold the pen securely so I can write more, write faster. Words lose letters, letters lose formation, but it is all there- I know the rules, mostly; letters, punctuation, semblance; but expression takes precedence over convention. My writing stops and starts randomly and sometimes I use the wrong word or context, but it flows and makes sense to me. When I get out what I want to say, then I can come back to fill in the rules. I feel writing, and I feel alive.

I will always write. I need it to house a lot of my creativity. Not all the time, or at any particular time, but most significantly when inspired.

                                   

I put this picture on the back of my portfolio for my launching class into the Master's program for Teaching. It's become my informal teaching mantra. I attached to it the words~

 Children are made from Dreams and Superhero Powers.

We still are, I hope.

Grow~Waking up Happy

Cole made this for me at school. He asked to hang it above the dresser in front of my bed, so that upon waking I would look up and see these hearts and be so happy. He even acted out waking up and smiling to them. In these moments I can feel my lungs expand with air and everything in that loved-laden moment slows down. Everything feels simple, less adult~ish. I think to myself that childhood can be a sense not just a memory. Like when I am laying on the trampoline staring at the sky, wide open and accepting of all that is possible, as I've done a million times as my younger self. That honest feelings and open hearts are not lost upon children. Each day I wake to these happy hearts and I smile that one smart four-year-old has so much to show me, and that because of him I must continually grow.

Nourish~Three Books Cooking Up Change

For the past six months I've been really concerned about food. After having a second child and turning 30 I've noticed some changes within myself. Less tolerance to certain foods, less sleep and exercise left me feeling worn. So a few months ago I tried the 21-Day Cleanse. It was intensely hard. Getting off of dairy, gluten, sugar, and meat was a huge change to my diet, which had consisted of all of them. I bought a list of all foods on the diet, but didn't take into account the time for preparation, mostly during lunches because I had a baby and lunch needed to be fast. So for the majority I stuck to what I know I like, beans. Usually fixing them with a Tex-Mex taste-a lot of beans, jalapenos and rice.

 It became very boring, very fast. Then I purchased this book and loved the flavors- reminds me how my parents so often cook. I love using more herbs and broth to get flavor rather than salt and oil or butter. The taste was fresh and earthy. I found at the end of the 21 days, I felt cleansed, lighter and I loved feeling satisfied by food- I found that bread and dairy cause my weight to stay and leave me sluggish. I realized I love eating vegetarian and it doesn't bother me, I also began to see overindulging in white breads helped me clarify moderation.

 I did go back to eating meat, dairy and gluten, but less of it. I found though that after eating without strict moderation I felt so ‘weighted’ is the best way to describe it. Over the next several months I toyed with the idea of going vegetarian for a longer period, possibly vegan. I loved the energy, the food choices, and the knowledge that I was digesting, healthy and purposeful food. I had noticed before the cleanse how my skin had become so red and blotchy over the past several years and during the cleanse my skin cleared and felt soft.

 Then a few weeks ago my daughter got a diaper rash, but at the time I thought was a yeast infection because it was recurrent. My son also had a cold at the same time. I am not sure if other parents get overwrought when their children get sick and it seems to last too long. I always feel there must be some outside source-something I can change in diet, washing, etc. that will stop the turntable of sickness. Never mind that diaper rash is common and children typically get 6-8 colds a year and can last 2 weeks plus. I went to my books and online sources and read up on yeast infections in babies. What I came across really changed my perspective and calmed my instincts but heightened my maternal paranoia (have I been doing it wrong all this time, did the foods I gave my children make them sick? hush hush, logic with your 6-8 colds and common diaper rash- I'm being overly protective here:)

When I looked up yeast infections I found several sites on fungal/yeast buildup. I had no idea the level of intolerances fungal buildup can cause. I was under the impression that yeast infections were the extent of intolerance to yeast and sugar. Au contraire. They can cause respiratory infections, chronic pain disorders, skin rashes and breakouts to name a few. I had no idea that certain foods sitting at the grocery store or on a boat traveling half way around the world grow mold faster than others. Now, I understand I wouldn't buy bad produce, but in American don't they throw food away faster than people can buy it? I guess it makes sense that mushrooms are out, but peanut butter, moldy? I always understood that bananas had more sugar than other fruit, but it is fruit and my daughter loves them. So I decided I would just scale down the amount she ate. Luckily I had already budgeted in organic peanut butter because my son ate so much of it - In the Candida Yeast Diet, I found that peanuts have high amounts of fungal growth, and that pesticides harm the body's natural defenses to combat things such as fungal overgrowth. My mother was always so conscious of foods treated with pesticides, or processed foods and I think it's a mindset I've taken too. I want my children to eat real food, not processed, that I want the food they do eat to agree with their bodies, as I am finding over and over again I want the same for myself. And I'm not crazy strict- we eat treats and chips and fast food occasionally. Lately though I've been cooking with more consideration surrounding sugary vegetables and fruits.

Since I live in the suburbs right now it's hard to find locally produced foods, especially grass-fed meats. But this year I would like finding ways to incorporate this into our menu. To buy local and within season. I began reading her blog years ago and found her words so enticing, not to mention environmentally sound. I loved reading about not eating foods for months, the excitement and anticipation of the upcoming season's produce. The tastes of the season! I go to the grocery store in the middle of winter and am able to buy tomatoes. No wonder they are mealy and tasteless. I want to be a part of sustainable foods. I'm saddened by our mistreatment of food (including mine) and the reason for it. To me it needs to be less for convenience- food is for nourishment and health. This documentary so inspired and brought home a lot of my emotions surrounding these topics. I understand how it's cheaper and often necessary to buy cheap. I'm on a strict budget myself, but I read a great article in a parenting magazine that it can be done in small ways. If you eat a lot of one thing, as in my son's peanut butter, buy it organically and the rest buy cheaper. This way the foods you eat most, will be most healthful and most beneficial. Small changes are where it always begins, even if it's a big movement.

These are all things I am trying. I've been trying to find food balance I suppose. I believe we eat pretty well. I take the time to prepare meals and consider what nutrients we need. I feed my kids in moderation. As I turn into my thirties, I want to really nurture my body, my health. I've learned from all these sources that being conscious about food means being conscious about so much more in my life as well. What I eat or don't affects my body as well as business, animals, our earth. The ripple effect. We are always connected. I just feel that nature has a wild perfect ness to it. I want more wholesome, more pure and simple eating. I’m always excited to cook and explore foods and now am on a new quest to see the varied ways simple choices lead to rich health.

~ The rhythm and the movement ~

Grow ~ family, activity, movement, play, daily, awareness,

 objects (found, bought, adored), the things that move us,

interaction, how this family plays, laughs, cries, triumphs

and loves

Nourish ~ food, garden, recipe creations, taste, thirst, regional foods,

seasonal, farmer's market, mediterranean food, vegan/vegetarian,

meat, untensils, raising healthful eaters, farm, cooking with herbs,

sustainability, consciousness

Artistry ~ made, sew, paint, charcoal/cloth, words,

writings, kid's art, music, inspiration,

books, ideas, connection, support, wonder, soul, spirit,

reciprocation

Wonder ~ photo, glimpse, frame, thumbprints, loves,

touch, unity, prints, handprints,

ponder, nature, easy, simple living, presence

home

These are the words that flow in and out of my daily life.

All the ways I create, live and love.

...the rhythm and the movement.