quiet

As we drove through Lexington today, two-thirds of the way through our 13 hour trip, snow swirled around the car.  My mild, gray&brown winter turned white and very cold.

I'm home now, snow still falling, and I feel myself quieting, a daffodil bulb tucked in for the long night, a bear in hibernation, thinking about what I will be.

Or more specifically, what I will be in 2013.

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It's only been nine months or so since this space took a turn away from the personal {family photos, recipes, a journal of the life of a family} towards the more public {more thoughts, more sharing, more of you} - a change I processed here and here as it was happening.

I've loved the change, and through it I've met some people who truly inspire and encourage me. I've also grown addicted to response, feedback, and approval, though.  So as the new year approaches,  I want to quiet myself for a bit, think through my motives, intentions, and goals for this space.  As the new year approaches, I'm thinking through who I want to be as a writer, a mother, a wife, a teacher, a neighbor, and a friend, and whether those hopes require any change here, or any more purposeful direction.

Will you share your new year's resolutions with me, if you have them?

approaching advent

This morning we woke up to a surprise snow - our second of the season, and just a light dusting, really, but neither of those factors made it any less exciting to a certain almost-four-year-old.  Before 8 am, she and I were snow-booted and tromping around the backyard.

“Mommy, I think this snow is trying to tell us that it’s almost snow-season,” she said, licking a handful of snow from a purple mitten.

The season of Advent begins this Sunday.  Since Thanksgiving fell on the earliest possible day this year, our Christmas season is the longest it can possibly be, and we have a week of breathing space between Thanksgiving and the first day of Advent. I needed it.

Over the last decade or more, I’ve tried to practice Advent, mostly unsuccessfully. Advent is supposed to be a season devoted to waiting for Christ to appear. To cultivating watchfulness, hope, and anticipation.  I think in my mind observing Advent looks like being alone in my parents’ living room at dusk, twinkle lights from the tree casting magical shadows, my mind in some silent meditative state contemplating Christ’s arrival.

Clearly, that state only happens for about five minutes a year, at most. It’s little wonder my practice of Advent has felt mostly unsuccessful.

I’ve tried Advent devotionals and reading regimens too, but my devotion always sputters out before the end of the season, and I find myself at the Christmas Eve service more focused on keeping hot wax off everyone’s fingers and fire out of everyone’s hair than on the little baby who is the light of the world.

This year, instead of seeking some zen state of meditative holiness, I’m going to do two things.  For one of them, I need your help.  I’m going to post every day during the season of Advent.  I’ll share some of my thoughts, but I’ll also share poems, songs, quotes, and images that speak of hopeful anticipation.  And I’d love to share some of your thoughts, if you’d like to write a guest post for me.

And secondly, I’m just going to be watching for signs of the kingdom breaking in.  Because at Advent, we’re anticipating Christ’s birth, which has already happened, and we’re also anticipating his return to earth, the full kingdom of God and its upside-down values transforming our lives. Like the powder that tells Rosie that snow-season is coming, these signs are everywhere, and this season I’m watching for them, focusing less on the “in sin and error pining,” and more on the “he appeared, and the soul felt its worth,” delighting in that the way my kid delights in the first signs of winter. Join me?

(PS: Today you can download Over the Rhine’s Christmas album free at Noisetrade!)

tobogganing

When this snow fell, it was just too cold to go out.

Single digit cold.

Almost no degrees outside.

And both my kiddos have spent the week coughing and dripping and rashing and night-waking.

But today warmed up a bit. We said we'd go sledding.

Rosie said, "But let's call it tobogganing."

Tobogganing.

visit

Jack's parents came to visit this weekend. They drove 11 hours each way just to spend one full day with us, and to bring us the wooden cradle that Papa handmade for our baby. I'll put a picture of that up after we get a mattress in it. Meanwhile...

jeggings

Playing with friends at the gym on a snow day.

meatless monday: chard and white bean soup

A fairly simple, hearty meal. We ate it as Deb suggested, with toast and a poached egg.


It seemed like the right thing to do as the ice and snow headed our way. Here's hoping we still have power when we wake up tomorrow!

mushroom pizza

Today it snowed all morning and I didn't feel like going to the store. So we made dinner with what was around the house: some bread dough that was in the fridge, tomato sauce made with a can of diced tomatoes and based on this recipe, and a few lonely mushrooms. Oh, and Mary Ann Lepine style, we had apples slices and carrot sticks on the side.

snowsie

Not afraid of the snow anymore. She's eating it, throwing it, and rolling in it. Daddy took her out today for playtime in the mild 27 degree afternoon.

first snow

and the new coat and hat from MaeMae and Papa.




Rosie thought the snow was sand. And she felt a little scared by how cold it was. We came inside and had hot chocolate to warm up.