apples for poppy anne

I am moved by layers of denim, soft grey, and oatmeal.  Cinnamon sticks bubble with a quartered apple on the stove for a comforting air freshener.  Another batch of indian spiced squash soup awaits Mike's arrival home.  The wet fern came in from the cold wind to cozy up in her new winter nook.  Gramma's chair beckons me to sit and knit something warm, but I can't seem to sit still long enough what with baking, warm laundry and dancing in the kitchen with Poppy.

I find so much inspiration in other people's work and creations, but still struggle to find my place in it all.   Despite the peace, the plants, and the homemade food I can't seem to shake this nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Alas, I am in deep need of driftwood, fall bouquets, and new oven mitts.

e.

Bonjour

We have returned from a most lovely Quebec City.  We had a wonderful time eating croissants and wandering the cobblestone roads and narrow streets.  The Chateau glowed as though it were some magical castle upon a hill as we meandered the foggy boardwalk at dusk.  It wasn't hard to imagine we were in Paris and we couldn't help feeling slightly envious of the city's inhabitants.  Every street with its very own soundtrack of harps and song.  We ate breakfast beside open windows with the clip-clop of horse's hooves outside.  Even the simplest greetings sounded like happy french songs to our english ears.  Everyone we encountered spoke english and sadly never challenged us to speak french. 

I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed with myself for retaining barely an ounce of the french I took in school everyday for 10 years or more.  How lame.  So Mike and I made a pact that we would make it our goal to learn the language once and for all; a goal we have both hoped to one day fulfill.

It was a lovely trip, but my heart ached for home.  You see, we recently inherited enough furniture and items from Gramma's house to refurnish our living room and beyond.  A couch and two antique chairs, a craft cabinet spattered with paint.  A spinning wheel and huge amounts of un-spun wool.  Cameras, jars, books and blankets.  I find myself burying my face into the cushions and blankets trying to commit the scent to memory as I know it will soon fade.  Salty tears mix with a pain I never knew takes my breath away when I realize I will never smell it again.  So I sleep under her blankets, knit in her chair and cook with her pans and quietly hope that she will one day visit Poppy with a message of love.

I finally rid our kitchen of teflon and plastic cooking utensils and began using Gramma's cast iron frying pan.  My eyes welled up as I made our first dinner and the heat released the smell of Gramma's cooking and home into my own kitchen.  Like the rings of a tree tells the tree's story, cast iron holds a homemaker's tale in its seasoned layers.

I don't know if it is the season or the comfortable antique chairs calling me to sit for a spell, but I am nesting like never before.  I have mentioned before that this house has felt impermanent to me, but with the addition of Gramma's things it somehow feels more complete and welcoming now.  I feel energized and rooted here now.  I sit in her chair and reacquaint myself with knitting projects tossed aside in the young days of spring.

Yesterday Mike and I made 11 jars of spicy salsa from our very own tomatoes (barely making a dent in the abundance) and 4 jars of organic apple butter.  I now know the sweet satisfaction of snapping lids of the resting jars.  I think we shall buy a preserve cupboard at the Farmer's Market for our treasures.

The end of my paid maternity leave is looming and I fight the panicky feeling in the pit of my stomach when I think of it so today will be dedicated to Etsy shop construction craft show searching.  There is something exciting and freeing about challenging ourselves to a frugal and simple life though.  I can't deny the thrill I get when I make something with my own hands or change an overripe banana's destiny to that of warm banana bread.  It is as though my body holds onto some sort of cell memory that responds and swells when I busy my hands and heart with the fading arts of homemaking.

I am exactly where I am meant to be.  I am grateful and perfectly happy.  I will begin to weave while trusting the Universe to provide me with the thread I need.  I trust this sated warm feeling in the pit of my belly to be contentment {finally} in fulfilling a life purpose.

P.S. See more of our trip photos here!

e.

I have begun reading Feeding the Whole Family by Cynthia Lair and am loving the intuitive, back-to-basics advice within its smooth cover.

It is, however, bringing to light just how many unhealthy food habits we still carry around.  After everything I have read, all the things I know, the documentaries I have watched, and despite my father and step mom being generous organic farmers I still struggle with eating right; I am still at war with these clingy, unhealthy pounds.

During pregnancy, I ballooned and was 55 pounds heavier by the final day.  I had good intentions and promised myself I would eat whole foods, green foods, nutrient dense foods.  I promised dad to eat all organic meat and to let him know when our freezer needed re-stocking.  I vowed to walk everyday.  The first 6 weeks were fine.  We toasted almonds and made a delicious spinach salad every night.  I always envisioned myself to be a glowing goddess when pregnant, but when pregnancy reality hit, it hit hard.  I was shipwrecked and plagued with constant nausea.  I craved comfort and "reward" foods of childhood days; things like alphaghetti, and kraft dinner became sad dietary staples.  The scent of the toasted almonds and spinach made my stomach churn and head spin.  I forbade Mike to make it in my presence again.  Pregnancy played evil tricks on me and I spent most of that summer on the floor or in bed with a sour stomach eating popsicles, grapes, and apples.

The nausea stuck with me for most of my pregnant days and I continued to grow, sleep and eat while Mike ran and shrank (nearly 40 pounds) and medicated me with food.  All of the things I had feared and hoped against had found me.  The lack of exercise and nutrients led to bouts of crying and dull depression and the cycle continued.

Today, I have managed to lose 42 pounds fairly effortlessly due to breast feeding and a more varied diet without aversions or cravings.  Though I am still eating a far from ideal diet.

I, in no way, want to make this blog about weight or weight loss, but it is an inevitable part of my journey.  In order to live an authentic and healthful life, I yearn to find balance in all areas of my life.  A great deal of my self-hate stems from my sub-par care of self.  This isn't something that I want to pass onto Poppy.  I want her to be in tune with her body's signals and needs and follow her intuition.  I don't to restrict her as forbidden fruit is always the most attractive, but I want to empower her to to make the right decisions. Until this morning, as I read Feeding the Whole Family, I was living in some sort of dream world in which I feed Poppy organic and homemade foods while I eat things I would never dream of giving her.  The day will come that she realizes we are eating different things and an unnecessary war begins.

Don't get me wrong, I love to cook, I love to bake, I love fruits and veggies, and there are very few foods that I refuse to eat.  We eat mainly organic meat and more veggies and fruits than most.  We drink water and rarely have pop in the house.  We avoid artificial sweeteners at all costs.  I love quinoa, and brown rice and never turn down herbs and spices.  Yet, I still cling to this unhealthy love affair with food; a part emotional, part physical addiction.

This book and new way of viewing things may just be the stepping stone I need.  You see, I have been a terrible friend to myself as I constantly make promises and then break them days or hours later.  Perhaps by doing this for Poppy it will be given a new sense of urgency and importance from which we will both benefit.

My goals

• Eat strictly organically produced meat, eggs, and dairy
• Greatly reduce processed sugars, high fructose corn syrup in daily foods
• Eat more legumes and grains
• Make from scratch the daily meals and snacks
• Limit or eliminate completely, sugar, pop, and processed convenience foods
• Participate in walking, swimming, light weights, jogging, yoga, and or meditation at least 5 times per week

Of course life will take hold at certain times and convenience will win.  We will eat birthday cakes and indulge ourselves in a pop {organic or not} or two.  We will undoubtedly eat Tony's pizza on hot days and at some fast food joint along highway 401 during a long road trip.  But with a good foundation all will not be lost.

e.

P.S. If you have some yummy and healthy recipes you would like to share, please email them to me at [email protected]!

 

We painted our room blue.

It is a soft calming blue that, when paired with the white, sanded headboard, makes me think of Paris {though I have never been, these are the images that dance in my dreamy head}.  It makes me wonder why we waited nearly 3 years to paint out the old dull colour.  I am quite certain that when it came time to paint that room, the previous owners closed the door before placing the carpet and set off a grimy lavender bomb.  Everything, from the door knobs to the window frames,outlets, trim and switches were the same dreadful colour!

This project just kept getting pushed down the priority list.  I finished school, we had puppies, we fixed the roof, we painted the grimy bathroom, we painted the stark white upstairs hallway, I got pregnant, we replaced the carpet that said puppies destroyed in the "nursery", we had a baby, we painted the office, we bought a "new" couch, and we re-arranged furniture.  All the while, our little room became cluttered and unloved.  Finally, when we could take it no longer, we painted our space.

You see, I had made many fruitless trips to the paint store, returning home with countless paint chips and yet moved no closer to a decision.  Then one evening we stopped in at the local floral shop and I found the prettiest little tea light holders and I decided then and there that this was the colour for our bedroom.  Mike agreed.

It was quite painless considering that any sort of home improvement task in the past usually  invited bickering and quick tempers.  We were both washed in an unmistakable calm as we began and the job was a quick success.  I painted the dark brown headboard out in a bright white and then sanded it for a rustic finish as I had previously done with a large hutch and buffet from the same set.  I never get sick of this look and it is a super simple DIY for the impatient at heart!

Now it is a clean space in which we can read, daydream, nap, lounge, love, and light candles.  And the lovely colour makes my beloved,ragged furniture and treasures pop with new life.  I am continuously amazed with what a 30 dollar can of paint can do for a neglected space!

 

Poppy likes it too!

 

e.

Poppy and I awoke early this morning to find a beautiful sun-shiny day sprawled out before us so I quickly gathered up what I needed for a day of sewing outside in the shade.  I envisioned endless amounts of Poppy pillow pants springing from my sewing machine, but said machine had other plans.  As I neared the finish of the second pair of pants,the thread gnarled up on the underside of the fabric and despite an hour of troubleshooting and cursing I was forced to set it aside and move onto other tasks until mom was able to fix it at the end of the day.

Laundry on a day like today brings a pleasure like no other household chore can bring. It reminds me of the gentle art that domesticity is and sums up the simplicity that I want for, not only my writing, but for my life. Plaid and denim flap wildly in the wind. The slow rhythm of stringing linens from cedar pole to tree limb connects me to something feminine and ancient. Tonight we shall pull fresh linens up under our chins; swaddled in the day’s sun and breeze, and fall gently into sleep's lap.

 

p.s. a little bit of monkey love to end this post off right!

 

 

.e&p.