MICHIGAN/ 01

i am writing from the top room of a darling michigan home where my husband's sister lives. i can hear the slow rhythm of my baby's lungs beside me, shy rain on the roof and against the old windows and the sound of glasses clinking and voices scattering beneath the creaky wooden floors. the three hour difference is just enough to keep me wide awake deep into the night, but i don't mind because i can see the silhouettes of trees in the purple cold sky.

we are back here for a week, almost as a pilgrimage to my husband's childhood. we have spent so much of our time traveling backwards ~ to the places and homes and streets and buildings that he knew by heart. seeing the man i deeply love travel back in time and lose himself to what he remembers has been staggering and deeply sacred.

his parents are no longer alive and the home he lived in no longer stands (it was beautiful, they say). it is heartbreaking watching my husband take deep, meaningful breaths, realizing on the exhale that all he once knew is gone. when i try to imagine what that would be like, i switch my thoughts, because the burden seems to big to carry and my arms have never been strong.

i can't imagine what it would be like because all i love and have known surround me. i feel so deeply fortunate and so lucky to be able to type that sentence because i know how quickly that could change. i know it's ticking before me, all of us, and i am trying my best to preserve it.

i believe that my sweet husband is the man he is to augustus and i because of so much (for lack of a better term), but i know that a great part of it has to do with him realizing how important it is to love deeply and passionately every day, every hour, and repeat it over and over until a lifetime has gone by. he never goes an hour without showing his affection, his intentions and love. and knowing all that he's overcome, i would say he's one hell of a man to be as beautiful as he is.

and i hope that one day, when we've grown much older, we can travel down the roads and places and streets we once loved, and see them standing tall, with more love growing in its place. 

SIX MONTHS.

augustus george turned six months on friday.

six.whole.months.

each time the 25th pops up, i know another month has flown beyond the speed of light, and our beautiful boy is no longer as small as he was the month before.

he loves being held most of the day. and he loves his toes, hands, my hair, papa's watch, grampy's hold, grammy's voice, bananas, avocados and long walks anywhere.

he gives away his smiles for free, to anyone and everyone.

he cries when something's worth crying about. for example, not being held.

another example: not being held. :)

we spend a lot of time together, sitting under trees, walking the garden, playing in leaves, reading books and playing on papa's lap playing the piano. he is a happy soul, wise and loving and deeply cuddly.

he is our new way of living. and i swear on all that i know that i don't know what life was ever like before him.

CRIMSON RED

in another life, i would choose to be a florist, getting up with the birds, foraging for that perfect, wild, over-looked, obvious & subtle stem.

i can count on one hand how many times i've gone on my walks or adventures without picking just a small snippet of earth. 

the beauty of just a tiny clipping compels me and makes me really, really happy.Share on twitter

THAT TIME

it's a few minutes past seven in the morning and my husband has been up since before six, in his studio, playing his piano. i re-made a pot of french press, and the air around me is dark and glowing and cold ~ simply, without a doubt, fall.

this time is sacred because it is yearned for so deeply. just an hour in the quiet morning, where we are bare and whole. when it's too early to be anywhere.

when there are no texts, no screens lighting up, no knocks on the door, no bright sun that compels us to move. where movement is slow and heavy and raw.

when we are more than just machines, endless and free.

CREATE: DRIFTWOOD GARLAND

we live about fifteen minutes away from the ocean, so any time we are feeling antsy for the sea, we pack up our car and head down the road. we love spending days there, and showing gus the sea was one of my very first dreams i had for him.

while my boys nap, i usually walk along the sand trying to find driftwood ~ and this is where this little garland was inspired from.

DRIFTWOOD GARLAND

supplies:

driftwood (or sturdy sticks)
scissors
eucalyptus
string

directions:
line up your driftwood in descending order, starting with the largest piece on top. cut two snippets of string, making sure it's the length of your choice.

starting from the top piece of wood on one side, start wrapping and knotting the string, making sure it is secure. double-knot each wrap. you should end on the bottom, with the excess of string remaining. make sure to snip off any extra string on the very bottom. repeat on other side.

next, hang your driftwood garland. make sure everything is secure and attach to your wall however you like. i made two loops and attached them with two white tacks to match our walls. then, insert your eucalyptus into the driftwood through the slack in the string. if you do not have any slack, don't worry. just delicately lay the eucalyptus on the wood.

enjoy ~

PRACTICING SIMPLE WEEKENDS

on friday morning, augustus and i sat underneath our tall pine tree in our backyard, doing nothing, just being, just breathing. have you ever tried that ~ just being. taking in the air, the sounds, the smells. it's often a hard task, slowing the world inside you and just existing inside yourself, letting what's around you surround all of you.

i used to be a balloon, ready to float away from a moment so easily, like poof i'm gone. i would allow distraction to take me away with the slight drop in the air. i would allow myself to leave perfectly beautiful moments, moving on as quickly as i showed up. i think we are all so guilty of this, especially in these times, with all this....technology. we leave trees and flowers and autumn leaves crackling under our shoes and watercolors and birthday celebrations and talking with friends over coffee ~ to crawl into our little fixes. we check this or that, we scroll this or that, and just like that we have left our moment to show up at another one, and the cycle repeats itself, daily, hourly, by the minutes.

having a child forces you to be idle in your being. to sit under the pine tree and look up at all there is, all the possibility, all the color and dream. we sat together, looking up. from day one, this boy of ours has loved being underneath trees, watching the leaves move with his whole body. there are no distractions for him, nothing that pulls him out. he is always fully there, honest and immersed.

i want to be more like him. he is the whole of all. he knows no moment than the one he is in. because he is all there. there is nowhere else to be.

photos of our simple weekend in order:

coffee in hand, talking about his big dreams in the nursery
he surprised me friday morning with flowers, our favorite coffee and french press
a pine wreath made from clippings from our tree (our whole house smells like christmas)
mid-day light from the window, after his nap
my husband made me cookies from scratch because i was feeling sick (he's never made them before and they are probably the best cookies i've ever had)
my favorite snack: toast, peanut butter, strawberries, chia seeds & honey

i hope you all had a wonderful, slow weekend. and i hope that in the week to come, you can practice your own form of simple living, by doing what (only you know) needs to be done. 

WEARING THIS

jeans/ old, sweater/ vintage, scarf/saachi for anthropologie, boots/ forever 21 (similar), necklace/world market

a simple glimpse into how i like to dress on most days. give me a simple outfit with pops of color and pieces with stories (i wore these jeans on our first date on a rainy decemeber evening almost four years ago) and i'm pretty content. and besides, this scarf that i just got reminds me of spilled watercolors, and that thought alone is just beautiful.

OUR MONTH IN BLUE

 

i thank you god for this most amazing day,

for the leaping greenly spirits of trees,

and for the blue dream of sky and for 

everything which is natural,

which is infinite,

which is yes.

e.e cummings

our month in blue, in photos, in order:

last watermelon of the season

before our evening walks

blue felt moccasins (diy)

sunday's bake ~ apple, raspberry, peach galette

morning light

new cow hat

favorite coffee shop slow mornings

beautiful accident: a white shirt dyed blue

porch-sitting, take two

simplifying the bathroom

my sweet, sweet boys

**if you would like to play along, i would love to see your monthly posts of your life in color, just let me know!

RECIPE: FRESH APPLE JUICE MUFFINS {Vegan}

there's nothing like october, and there's nothing quite like seasonal baking, too. i was inspired to make these for my love of alternative baking, the fresh carton of apple juice we picked up at a pumpkin patch farm, and an antique muffin tin my mom picked up at a thrift store for free.

i heavily adapted a recipe i found online, replacing the oils, syrup and spices. you can see the original recipe here. i rarely follow recipes to an exact science, but this one is pretty incredible if i may say. the muffin itself is moist and nearly guilt-free, and rolled in the glaze and sugar bath, it's a little slice of autumnal heaven. as you can see on their website, you can alter the recipe to how many servings you prefer ~ i stuck with six since it was just for my husband and myself.

FRESH APPLE JUICE MUFFINS {Vegan} makes six

for the muffins:

1 Cup all-purpose flour

1 1/2 Tsp .baking soda

1/2 Tsp. baking soda

1/2 Tsp. cinnamon

1/2 Tsp. pumpkin spice
1/2 Tsp. salt

1/3 Cup agave

1/4 C fresh apple juice

1/4 C apple sauce

1 Tbsp. coconut oil, melted

1 tsp. vanilla extract

for the glaze:

1 cup powdered sugar

2 Tbsp. fresh apple juice

for the topping:

1/2 C sugar

1 Tbsp. cinnamon

directions:

preheat oven to 350 degrees. generously grease a muffin pan of your choice and set aside.

in a small bowl, combine flour, baking powder, baking soda, spices and salt. in a seprate bowl, whisk together agave, apple juice, apple sauce, coconut oil and vanilla extract. add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients until just combined.

spoon or pipe batter into the prepared pan, filling each mold.

bake for 8-10 minutes, until muffin springs back when gently pressed. remove from oven and let cool in a pan for a few minutes before transferring onto a cooling rack to cool completely.

once the muggins have cooled, dip the tops into the glaze and then immediately sprinkle (or roll) with the cinnamon sugar.

allow the glaze to harden and enjoy.

THE WAY YOU SLEEP

when i was in labor, they told me to think of a place that made me happy ~ a place that when you go there, time floats, worries melt, your heartbeat drops and you are where you always ever want to be.

when i went to this place, i went to the tree where my husband and i used to meet for picnics, the tree he asked me to be his wife under, the tree that sits alongside a little park, in a little brick town.

this tree was where my memory filled me. where i don't need pictures to remind me. between the contractions and the deep, steady breaths, i went to this tree. as my husband held my hand and kissed my forehead as i cried through the pain, he talked about this tree and i listened. there was no talking on my part, only listening. only feeling. only going there.

but if i were to do it again, if the nurses told me to to go that place that made me happy ~ i would go here, where you sleep, in the middle of our bed, in your favorite aden & anais swaddle blanket that i dyed, your breath quiet and your eyes moving to the depth that you travel when you hit rem sleep.

i would go where i would kneel on the edge of our bed, staring at you, wondering who you are, getting to know you just by surrounding myself with all of you. i would go where the late afternoon sun scattered like skipping stones on your face as you climbed into your dreams, dreaming of things far more beautiful than i'll ever know.

if ever i do it again, i'll go to this happy place. asleep on our bed, dreaming, breathing deep, colorful and small and wildly beautiful.