Domesticity

I had a weekend of domesticity. I cleaned closets. I mopped the porch, and thirty minutes later I had to scrub it on my hands and knees (Don’t ask…it had something to do with a disintegrating mop). I washed a mountain of tiny socks. I folded a mountain of tiny socks, and I am now left with eleven mismatched oddballs. These are the less charming aspects of the weekend.

 As promised, I made a pot of soup and baked a batch of bread. The soup was Grandma Sunny’s recipe for broccoli cheese soup. Hello Autumn! I told my hubby that this is my perfect comfort food. The soup was creamy, hearty, and cheesy. One question though…why did my pasta soak up almost every bit of the broth? It was like having a bowl of broccoli cheese noodles. Now, I’m not complaining. Trust me; that was one yummy bowl of noodles, but I would like to have some actual soup in my soup next time.

While my boys were out and about on Saturday, I baked some whole wheat bread. I first made this particular recipe from the Joy of Cooking when I was living in my college apartment. My husband—boyfriend at the time—came over very early one morning to bake bread together. Our parents (both sets) came to our college that evening for dinner, and we wanted to show off some homemade wares. We borrowed two beautiful pottery crocks from our professor (who lived across the street). We’ve made this bread dozens of time since then, and I still often think of that first attempt at homemade bread.

We made a few minor changes around the house, primarily in our elder son’s room. We added some new shelving to his closet and packed up clothes that will be Little Brother’s hand-me-downs. I also placed a small nightstand next to his bed, and I moved a little lamp from my room to the new nightstand. At bedtime, instead of the glare of the overhead light, we shared a story in the warm glow of the small lamp. What a difference!

We were busy every minute this weekend. We worked hard. My back hurts, and I’m tired. But somehow these three days that we spent working in our home felt restful.

 

Mission Simplify

With a three-day-weekend declared by our university, my family is tying on the sneakers, pulling out the garbage bags, and doing some major organization. Perhaps it’s a far fetched wish, but I dream of a home that is cheerful and orderly like a kindergarten classroom. I want our life to be simple and tidy. Too much to ask? We’ll see.

I’ll be away from the blog until Monday with the hope of dedicating myself to Mission Simplify. I’ll return with a report on the soup making and bread baking that is scheduled for Saturday. I’ll leave you with one picture of our steps toward organization and simplicity.

Our 4 year old son is now responsible for four morning "tasks." These cards keep him moving forward on a busy morning.

 

Pumpkin Pancakes

Ah…Autumn, I love you. These cool mornings just beg for pumpkins and cinnamon. How about pumpkin pancakes? I whipped up these pretty little babies by simply mixing up Bisquick pancake batter (I use the Heart Healthy kind) according to the box, and I added 2/3 of a cup of canned pumpkin and a dash of cinnamon. Now, if I was the wonderful, from scratch kind of mom that I try to be on the best of days, I would have made my own pancake batter using actual flour and actual measuring cups. I might even have cooked up a nice little pumpkin. But even though I did neither of those things, my son thinks I did some special magic!

 

An October Weekend

This weekend exemplified everything I love about October.  Pumpkins, leaves, gorgeous blue skies, Homecoming festivities, football, family.  We began our busy weekend with a trip to our college alma mater for Homecoming.  The Hubby and I met there in the fall of 1997, and although we didn’t date until after he graduated, the campus is still filled with romance for us.  It’s truly a special place.  The four of us  walked around, saw a few familiar faces, and soaked up the atmosphere.  We closed our trip with a visit to a local institution that embodies everything I love about dear old places.  Shorty’s Lunch, or just “Shorty’s,” is a tiny hot dog shop that is all charm and no frills.  The booths are old and chipped.  The menu is a small plastic board on the wall behind the counter.  Hot dogs, cheeseburgers, fries, and three dinner choices: that’s it and that’s plenty.

Our next stop was the farm.  Not far from the college campus, a family-run farm offers hayrides, pumpkins, a petting zoo, fresh milk and cheese, homemade ice cream, country foods, and activities for kids.  Great stuff, but we were on a strictly pumpkin mission.  After a very brief look at the brand new baby pigs (so cute!) and a grouchy old sheep, we took a tractor-pulled hayride up to the pumpkin patch.

I snapped a few photographs to capture the pumpkin patch experience, but I had to put down the camera.  I didn’t want to miss the moment, living only through a camera’s lens.  The sky was so, so blue.  The corn was tall and lush, and the breeze made it whisper.  Between mud and vines, the most beautiful shade of orange peaked through.  And every so often, we spotted a bumpy yellow gourd or golden pumpkin blossom.  The boys laughed and squealed as they trotted through a hay stack maze.    When we stood very still in the country quiet, the low voices of cows drifted through the corn stalks.  As a country girl transplanted to an urban neighborhood, I could have stayed in that moment forever.  But our plans weren’t through!

Back in the car, we traveled to our primary destination of the day—the baptism of our godson.  Neither my husband nor I have been godparents before, but having grown up in the Catholic Church, the former altar boy was able to prep this little Protestant girl for the basic logistics of the ceremony.  I was really nervous about standing there with both of my wiggly sons in tow, but aside from the little one’s brief protests and the older one’s admonition to the priest (“Don’t put him under!”), the baptism was a success.  Afterward the four of us and the baby’s family had dinner at a delightful English pub-style restaurant.  I felt so good chatting with my dearest friend in the world, cooing over her precious baby, and realizing how deeply satisfying my life is when the important things come first.

 

Little Boys Grow Up

Last night I had nice conversation with my best girlfriend about motherhood.  She is the new mommy of a gorgeous baby boy.  We were lamenting how quickly it all goes by, how our hearts sometimes ache for the quickly slipping days to halt their dizzying  progress. 

Something about turning four has made my firstborn into a little man.  I look at this picture, and I want to engrave it upon my memory.  He spends so much of his day in constant motion.  He is always running, jumping, learning, exploring, singing, questioning, and growing.  I want to be able to see him in this quiet moment forever.

 

Baking Soda Bisquits

In preparing to head to our bi-monthly Bible study with friends yesterday, I was stumped.  What do you take to share when the menu is Lebanese food?  What do you take to share when you’ve never had Lebanese food and therefore have no idea what goes with such cuisine?

I went with bisquits. 

The smell in our kitchen was worth every bit of flour now dusting my kitchen floor and coating the bottoms of the children’s socks.

I had to snitch one before we hit the road.  I couldn’t just offer my contributions without testing the wares, could I?

 

Roasting Marshmallows, Making Cards, Enjoying Family

I had a fabulous weekend.  Even though I love my part-time job, I always feel a huge weight lift when I walk out of the classroom on a Friday afternoon.  This past Friday was even better because I knew that we were headed to the annual church Hot Dog Roast.  Now, I dislike hot dogs (My husband teases me for putting every topping on to hide the taste.), but I am all about the camp fire, the guitar music, the voices of kids playing, and the messy fun of making S’mores. 

My boys had a wonderful time.  Our little one clapped and danced to the music, and his big brother was fascinated by the fire, keeping Mommy and Daddy on their toes.  Feeling wonderfully mellow with the sounds of old hymns and camp soungs, we headed home as the fire was fading.

On Saturday my mom and I sttended a card-making workshop.  We both enjoy scrapbooking, so this was a nice extension of that activity.  We weren’t sure what to expect, but the day was a fun, relaxing, and even surprising one.  I love paper crafts of all kinds, but I was especially drawn to the idea of giving cards as a kind of outreach to people who need a friendly hello, a pick-me-up, a reminder that they are loved, thought of fondly, and covered in prayer. 

I loved playing with so many colors and textures.  From magenta embossed card stock to raffia to colored pencils, I was in heaven.  It reminded me of my elementary days when the kid in the next desk yelled at me for humming under my breath while I cut construction paper leaves or glued cotton balls on the Easter Bunny’s bottom.  I did sing on Saturday, but nobody yelled at me.

 

As the garden season draws to an end…

This was a funny sort of summer.  A respectable number of pretty days.  Some stretches of rain.  Some very cool days.  Not a lot of swimming.  We had a handful of 90 degree broilers but not enough to coax the window unit air conditioners out of the basement.  Although my dreams of nurturing a wonderful, lush little garden never came to be, we did enjoy a harvest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yep…we gathered about 20 cherry tomatoes from our two plants, and we got 2 green beans from the vine that our older son planted in Sunday School.  He is thrilled!

Fortunately, my in-laws have greener thumbs.  We were happy to share their zucchini, and this gorgeous sweet pepper.

 

Rebirth…and it’s not even Spring!

Any day is a good day for a rebirth, a fresh start. Why not the first day of Autumn?

Since I began this blog in 2006, life has changed considerably.  We welcomed a second son into our family in July 2008.  He is now a walking, babbling little monkey.  A delight.  His big brother has climbed the preschool ranks and is now in the 4 year old class.  He’s learning and growing at an awe-inspiring rate.  Blessings, blessings, everywhere.  But time for blogging became slim, and the entire feel no longer fit the timbre of my life.

So why the new start here at Warm as Pie?  I’ve been thinking a lot about what I do.  Most importantly, I’m called to be a mother to my boys.  I live to build a warm, peaceful home–a place where they can grow and develop and be inspired to live godly lives, creative lives, meaningful lives.  This will be my purpose for a short season.  Before I know it, my children will be independent adults.  (Of course, I’m also making a home for my sweet hubby, and that job will be mine until my final days.)

But I’ve been given other gifts as well.  I feel called to teach and to write.  I want to bring those aspects of myself into my life now, today.  I believe that both teaching and writing provide a way for me to reflect upon and preserve the details of the present.  I can better appreciate and delight in the current moment by taking the time to record those details and hopefully stir-up a little inspiration in others.  It’s a lofty goal, but I believe that my little blog can be one step forward.

Here, I plan to record the objects, activities, and insights that inspire me.  I will share the happenings of my days, and from time to time I’ll highlight books, products, and websites that I enjoy.

A new beginning.