<Please forgive the poor quality of the photos. This was one of my earliest posts, and I had not updated my phone before I began blogging. I am leaving them here as-is for posterity.>
The French-pressed coffee was extra hot and tasted dark and sludgy in a good way on this grey northwest morning so particular to our little tip of the world.
On mornings like this, the little incubating bodies of our kids burrow deep in their twin beds, emanating heat and growth hormones, little noses peeking out of cotton and down covers, and I am sure that I interrupt some dramatic growth surge at the bold moment of 6:55 asking them to dress and present themselves to the world.
But in the kitchen, with dad building sandwiches and frying eggs, and mom putting socks on feet and quieting cowlicks, these little organic beings come magically to life, manage to form words and laughter and brush teeth and lace shoes and pile on coats and hats and gather homework sheets and tug on backpacks and tumble into the car and voila! the day begins.
Today, this first Friday in January, I bring you snippets of a day. I predict this will be a Friday tradition going forward.
When the drizzle keeps up for the entirety of the afternoon, a blazing fire brings cheer and warmth to our living room.
For lunch with my Mama, who came for a visit, I made tea and avocado toast over baby kale from the garden. The garden is still mightily producing these little greens, along with some tiny multi-colored carrots, itty-bitty brussels sprouts, and some large leaves of disappointing cabbage.
And then it was off to work in my writing studio, to begin again–grateful today for the hooks Brian installed to hang my rain-splattered coat.
Writing feels easier every day. Writing here helps. I’ve been writing nightly in my journal; writing with a pen on paper is just as important, I think. Just linking words together is useful.
Stories are hanging out in the recesses of my head, starting to weave together little bits here and there. Like the name Clemmie Bennett. She seems to exist somewhere out in the clouds waiting to come to life. She’s on a growing list on my desk along with snippets of songs, plans for an herbal tea garden, and this little rock tower from my grammy’s beach, which has a number of rocks with white circles around them. These are wish rocks. They are here to remind me to start with a wish and keep working so my wish will come true. Legend says that if you make a wish for yourself, it will come true, but if you make a wish for someone else, all your wishes will come true.
On this drizzly, drippy, grey Friday in January, I am wishing you all a cozy, warm, nourishing weekend ahead filled with moments that renew you, times that comfort you, and experiences that stir you.