Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Expectations

The day in waves. From gratitude to frustration + back.
My head in overdrive.
Pretty images of tulip fields and windmills.
More highlights than most days, despite it all.
Or perhaps, because.
Funny what happens when you drop all expectations.



Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Deep breath. Peel the carrots. Exhale.

I could have peeled 50 lbs of carrots that way. Something in the repetitive movement, the meditation, helped me come back to my center.
Only he knew how much I needed the mental space. 

Then, laughing and singing with her in the car felt like a million bucks.


Sunday, March 16, 2014

It was

It was the sky. It was the new light flooding the kitchen at 6 pm. It was the songs of the waxwings already back from their winter migration. It was the twinkle in his eyes when he talked about the mountains. It was their duo. It was their laughter.




Saturday, March 15, 2014

The grey and the wet

Trying hard to embrace the grey, the wet, the snow, the ice. Trying.
I am so ready for spring.


Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Her guitar

She takes it out at least 10 times a day just to feel it in her hands. She had been talking about learning to play for so long. There is something to be said about how wonderful it can be to wait for something.

Monday, March 10, 2014

Winter encourages minimalism

A great quote from a great book I just finished that reminds me a lot of our Yukon winters.

« Shovels, gloves, toys, and buckets. Boats, bicycles, cars, and sheds. Roads and houses. All buried. The world is wiped clean with every snowfall – smoot, perfect, inaccessible. The bustling busyness of gardens and berries and construction projects fades into a distant-seeming memory as one by one, each time-sucking project disappears beneath the white. The only cars visible are the ones that work well enough to be driven every day. The only doors that open are the ones repeatedly shoveled. The only paths walkable are the ones repeatedly stomped.

Everything else? You’ll see it in May. Or maybe June. You probably didn’t need it anyway.

Winter encourages minimalism. » - Erin McKittrick, Small Feet, Big Land (Adventure, Home, and Family on the Edge of Alaska)
:: Lili, my friend's daughter, building a fairy garden on top of a rock ::

Sunday, March 9, 2014

Celebrate

There was so much to celebrate. And then some.