Joining Amanda at Soulemama for this moment.

{this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savour and remember.

Happy Weekending!

xoR

As you may have reckoned I’m not a big one for change. I resist. I resist. I resist some more. Then I’m forced into the inevitable and guess what…I’m okay.

This new home is great. I love it. We love it. We have breathing room and a yard and toilets (emphasis on the plural). Already it feels like home.

And of course I knew that would happen. That’s how I roll. Stick me in a motel for three days and I’ll settle right in. Make me use the same gas station restroom too many times and I’ll try to hang curtains.

I’m a nester. I nest. Home is my base. No matter the day, I’m always happy to come home.

So while leaving our old home sent me into waves of panic and rushes of tears, this new home is good. And it is home.

The people we brought with us of course seal the deal on making this house a home.

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And I’m joining Cory for Thrifty Thursday not only because I love Cory but also so I have an excuse to draw your attention to the those vintage books stacked in Sarah’s bookcase. They’re nearly all thrifted except the blue book at the bottom which was a baby gift from friends; I am a Bunny and the Gyo Fujikawa (just look at these illustrations!!) titles were mine as a young child and favourites still. All those other treasures were $.25 or less. (And the sweet, and very a propos, needle felted bird in nest in that photo came from the lovely Jacinta.)

I haven’t posted a yarn along in quite a few weeks simply because I haven’t been knitting. With so much going on there just hasn’t been a chance. But I keep thinking about knitting. Thinking about a project to begin as soon as I have a moment to cast-on.

Today I finally snuck into the yet unpacked bins sweetly labelled, “Mommy’s Wool” searching for the right shade for Mira. She needs a sweater for our cool mornings and evenings. This rich and rosy pink, Quince and Co’s Chickadee in Pomegranate, is one of my favourite colours on her. I’m hoping I may have enough yardage for a Baby Vertebrae…If I don’t I’ll have to decide what I want to work with more – the wool or the pattern. Either way I need to squeeze in a little knitting time – my sanity begs it.

I have found some time to enjoy our recent sunny days with a book in hand. I’m nearly done  reading The House at Riverton…so nearly done that I had to forcibly put it down so dinner and bedtime would not be left completely in Dan’s hands. I’ve enjoyed all of Kate Morton‘s books. She unwraps her stories beautifully with increasing suspense and mystery avoiding the gore and violence of many other mysteries. The story has moved a little slowly but I think my current popcorn style of reading added to that. And of course the long build up only adds to the final suspense. Call me unimaginative but I have to admit I couldn’t help picturing Downton Abbey characters as I was reading – not bad, but confusing.

The big girls and I have been reading Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIHM along with Annie‘s Read Aloud Book Along. It is a great story. Every evening we’re eager to read on. We’re already to hear the next title Annie chooses!

p.s. Thanks for the kind words and prayers regarding yesterday’s post. I am healing up quickly and well. Feeling thankful and blessed. 

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joining Ginny for yarn along

“Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more.

It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal

into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our

past, brings peace for today and creates a vision for tomorrow.”

~Melody Beattie

In the name of gratitude and truthfulness I’ve decided to post a little piece of reality here once a week. Likely just a single picture. See my original post here.

In this house that Dan has dubbed ‘the house of breaking’ we have broken more dishes, pottery, china, and jars in ten days than we have in combined years previously.

Mason jars cracked on ceramic tile, a lamp from a dresser, an entire shelf of pottery I was unpacking, and the list goes on.

I cried over the pottery (including two mugs my in-laws had sweetly brought to replace those last ones) but got over it.

But now I’m breaking a little in body. Shingles have kindly paid a return visit. I thought that burning on my cheek seemed familiar but didn’t think it was possible. I was wrong.

And this morning I broke into tears as I felt the scaly slap mark on my face. Tears of frustration, pain, and disappointment. All those things I had to get done moved promptly to the back burner.

This day I am so thankful for grace. For reminders of faithful love and new mercies. For a quiet afternoon with the little lady as Dan, overworked father that he is, snuck children away. For the little boy that took a nap in my arms while I drank in his sweetness. For a friend bringing dinner. For siblings helping siblings and offering words of healing to a tired mama. For the dear ones, family and friends, speaking prayers, support, and love. For a drop to my knees that reminded me who I am and what I believe. For faith, for love, for God I trust. For healing swift and sure.

And for that chipped mug to remember it all by.

No word of a lie: I typed that last sentence and one of our sweet vintage glasses smashed on the floor out of the hands of a well-intentioned child. Goodness gracious. 

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If you’d like to join in with a reality check of your own, please add a link or note in the comments!

The intoxicating perfume of fresh lilacs thanks to a lovely new neighbour;

the first lattes on my new-to-me espresso machine (thanks, freecycle);

Dan spending the morning helping friends become new neighbours (!!!);

visits with an old friend, surprise pop-ins from sweet ladies and neighbours;

two butternut squash plants from a wonderful friend;

comfort baking, last minute meals, very few vegetables;

corners of this house beginning to look like home;

empty boxes and kids with wheels;

the oldest announcing she was going to bake and did not want help;

wind through poplars;

stolen game time with big brother;

and a little boy only more precious after the dreaded (by Mommy) haircut.

Settling in, stretching out, making home this is how we spent our weekend.

And you? How was your weekend?

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joining Amanda for weekending