A Running Collection

       We went for a walk to find "heaven and nature singing". It wasn't hard. It was underneath our bare toes on the gravel roads. We collected leaves, flowers, berries, stems, pine cones and more. We came back home and talked about how they are life and light right here with us "nature singing". We glued the treasures on paper and mailed them to friends and family that the children wanted to share their work with. It doesn't feel very Christmasy here as we haven't put up a tree. We are waiting until we get to Georgia next week. We pulled out the beautiful olive wood manger scene and put all of the pieces in place. We hung some pine cones by golden ribbon and cut out some snow flakes. The air is warm and balmy. We've had a little rain and a lot of being sick. More than anything, we've had music. We listen to carols. The children dance to "Angels We Have Heard On High" over and over again. Amelia is a painter and a fiddler, not ...

At the Boggs' house, we have some serious spills happening on a regular basis. From meal time to paint projects to brewing hour, splashing is happening. Drooling, dripping, swishing, spilling, slipping, dipping, spraying. Our clothes seemed to be getting a bit worn and splotchy. I caught myself wiping my hands on the sides of my pants while I was in the kitchen. I made so bibs to start with and then an apron for meal time prep. That is how it started. I've had a blast making some seriously cute bibs. A friend asked if I could create an apron for her little one for Christmas and I couldn't believe how quickly it came together! My grandmother sewed a lot and I have always wanted sew and now it is just coming to me every day!  If you and your clan or someone you know has a drooler, spiller, splasher, or dripper, then these bibs will make the perfect gift. If you would like to order a bib or two or three or an apron -- send me a message here in the comment...

The flu struck us pretty hard here about two weeks ago. George Wilder was the first one attacked, then Amelia and now George. We are still fighting off some infections and some fevers. We are so very ready to be healthy. Sickness sucks. It does. It sucks the life right out of little creatures and big ones. We've sat on the couch a lot. We've watched movies at midday. I've seen the walls of the grocery and the house and that is it for two weeks. They are closing in. It is lonely to be quarantined. We are ready to travel and visit with friends and family for the holidays. We've started packing and will head out soon. So ready to look at the sun high in the sky and roads and stores.  It is sure easy to think how dreadful this is, but we've not reached scary or super sick.

 The mirror tells the story from today. I see it and laugh -- My long sleeve black shirt spattered with flour, grafted with smashed banana, dusted with ashes, caked with dirt and stretched from tiny hands and toes squirmy from a satisfied snack. This is what is rich. This is what fills up. The children wake me early so we rumple and tickle and cackle. I slide out of bed and hurry to the faithful French press and water kettle to start the coffee and grab the waffle recipe. It is Waffle Friday. We gobble down waffles, piddle around a bit and pack up the snack basket for a trip to Orchard Pond Organics. The goal was to "help". Amelia longs to harvest anything, so I'd called and asked if we could help. They start early and we were late. It was our first visit and four and six year olds don't show up often to help here, but they were gracious and sent us to weed some greens. Adventure friend Dorrie digs and pulls with us. Sweet farmer stays close and tells stories an...

You came slowly it seemed. We had to wait to try for you. Then, You were suddenly there, in my womb. Then, Eleven days late. Then, Nineteen hours of labor. Nine pounds Eleven ounces. You cried with a purple face. We waited -- seconds seemed like hours. Purple. Oxygen. Then perfectly pink. Then, You suckled in a flash. You held tight and didn't stop. You were strong and beautiful and peaceful. You slept the night that night, But you've kept me company in the early hours 360 nights. William, you've given our family such life. You have been our constant companion. Your inquiring mind wants to know every detail of dinner preparation, Lego making, puzzle working, math equations, motorcycle maintenance, fire building, trampolining, chicken feeding, sheep care, Little House on the Prairie, and laundry folding. You inspect and dissect and recreate and unbuild and undo and wear and taste it all. You want to be in the middle of morning cuddles. You need n...

On this day, last year, we were waiting and waiting. It was nine days past William's due date, and we would wait two more. Those 9 days were so very very long and the last year has been so very very not  long. We didn't know if we were waiting on a boy or a girl. We were just waiting for something big... 

 Instrument cases litter the floor. Voices bounce off the walls. Strings vibrate. Music fills the air. I'm stopping to write a bit with sweet music all around. Thanksgiving vacation has filled us up with sun and sounds and sweet potato casserole. We didn't know we would spend Wednesday digging in warm white sand, watching the sun drop behind the horizon, and playing with Georgia friends; it was an unexpected reunion. It was a glorious day. It was soul food. We returned home and fell into bed. Filled up, I woke to run the Turkey Trot here in Tallahassee. I love to stand freezing cold jumping up and down with a group of strangers. I can smell clean clothes as we bundle and wait for the start. Soon the clean will wash away with the warmth of the sun mixed with sweat and strength and exhaustion. The race starts and I zig zag through the crowd looking for a space for my pace. It takes awhile today. The crowd is big. 6000+. People take off too fast and talk too much and fall aw...