Easter eggs

You can't have Easter without some egg decorating!

Hmmm. Will these rubber bands work?

A little washi tape.

Daddy taught us how to blow out the insides of an egg. I had never seen that done in person before, but he says his family used to do it every year.

Uh-oh, that yolk is stubborn!

So fun!

Gifts

Every year as we're assembling gifts late at night, I wonder if it's really worth it to make homemade gifts for teachers, family, the mailman. But there's something really beautiful about making something simple with your hands. I always end up feeling like it's one of my favorite Christmas traditions.

sugar cookies

It wouldn't be Christmas without some sugar cookie cut-outs.

 I have such happy memories of my Mom helping us make these every Christmas and Easter. She always set out little bowls of colored frosting and we had so much fun decorating away. It was probably especially memorable because those were the years of no sugar in the house. 

It's one of the best part of becoming a parent--getting to pass on the happy traditions and rituals of your childhood.

Christmas elves

4th Annual Puttin' Up Preserves Party

This year I had too much fun hanging out with all my dear friends to take many pictures. But it was a great night. 

Party favors.

I have made a TON of peach jam this year. Colorado had a bumper crop of peaches this year. I bought two big boxes of seconds from the farmers market, one of Elbertas and one of Cresthavens. The boxes turned into about 40 8-oz. jars of jam. I'm looking forward to pulling down those jars in the dead of winter.

We all went home with fig jam, grape jam, apple jam, peach jam, plum sauce, herb sachets, and coffee. It's so wonderful to have such creative, authentic, and smart friends.

the Makerie retreat

Last weekend I was fortunate to attend the Makerie, a 3 1/2 day retreat in Boulder. Since I'll be teaching at the Makerie in the summer (at a different location), I wanted a chance to experience the extended version as a student, to get restored and refreshed (it's been a rough winter), and to connect with fellow creatives near and far.

I love all the sweet, pretty touches that the Makerie team creates to surprise and delight us. You can see professional photos here if you're interested.

I took four 4-hour classes over two days. First up: Designing Your Own Clothes with the delightful Cal Patch. I left with two patterns, an A-line skirt and a simple shift, custom designed for me. Now to sew them!

Lunch-time talk from the lovely Sara Bercholz, editor of Roost Books, called "From Dream to Book." I really enjoyed this for obvious reasons. Roost published one of my absolute favorite cookbooks (and blogs), La Tartine Gourmande. I love their beautiful books that focus on home, craft, creativity, food, design, and family.

Color Wheel Sampler with Rebecca Ringquist of Dropcloth Samplers. If you know anything about my first book and my obsession with this rather creepy Victorian sampler, you'll know that this class was a real treat for me. However, even in a four-hour class with frequent tea and chatting breaks, my eyes were glazed over and dry as a bone by the end. No wonder Victorian seamstresses--and sweatshop workers today--developed all sorts of physical maladies!

The assistant teacher Fran Meneley, who has a studio in Boulder, shared an incredible--and I mean incredible!--stack of embroidery. She creates many of her own designs. Wow!

Little Picasso with Kristin FitzGerrell of Studio22 and her lovely assistant Holland. Time to operate a power tool! Yikes! 

We took a blown-up sample of our children's artwork, cut it out with a jigsaw, sanded and painted, and voilà: a wall-worthy version of our kids' art!

 You can see Owen's African shell duck in the top right corner. This class pushed me. Owen's drawing required more painting than other people's, and I'm definitely not a painter, so it was a challenge for me to go with the flow and accept what I came up with. Kristin is an incredible teacher, also a local artist, and I hope we connect again soon.

Finding Your Art Voice, a painting class with Jennifer Mercede. What fun to doodle, blind contour draw, paint, and play. Since I haven't painted since a high-school art class (which I loved), I was able to really let go and just be free. I had nothing to lose!

Dinnertime. Meals in the dining room were a real treat. I talked with so many interesting people!

One of Fran's stunning visual journals, full of painting, mixed-media art, poems, memorabilia. I had no idea people made books like these. The good news is that she teaches local classes. 

On our final night, we entered the lodge to find it transformed into a magical space. Sarah Olmsted, author of Imagine Childhood, called her talk "Makeshift Magic." The tent and garland she created definitely transported all of us. This night was a highlight for me. I had chatted with Sarah earlier while drinking a delicious lavendar cocktail (!) and felt really drawn to her. When she started reading from her book--a collection of projects to inspire magic, creativity, and time in nature for families--I felt like I'd met a true friend. 

 One of the Pajaki paper chandeliers that students made in one of the classes.

 Saying goodbye to my roommates Melinda and Sheryl.

Melinda (on the left), hails from Philadelphia by way of England and India. That first afternoon, she stumbled in wearing a kelly green colorblocked dress and lugging an unwieldy suitcase. In an instant the quiet Craftsman-style cabin was buzzing with the witty repartee and feisty energy of this little English dynamo. Smart as a tack, a true creative muse brimming with ideas (she does brand development and writing), and hilarious to boot: she blew into our cabin like a gust of fresh air. We would go to our separate classes then giggle our way home, laughing like teenagers over who knows what, and dreaming up ideas for the future.

I headed off for this retreat exhausted (I've had chronic insomnia since our fall car accident), depleted, and frankly, pretty discouraged. I thought what I needed was solitude, contemplation, time and space alone. But then in burst Melinda--and a host of other creative, warm, fascinating, and open women--and my weekend was crammed with laughter, beauty, meaningful work, and camaraderie. It turned out to be exactly what I needed, a spark of creative connection to remind me that there are many kindred spirits in this world. When we come together magic truly does happen.

Happy Thanksgiving!

our gratitude tree

eggs for the neighbors

birdhouses for sale

Jack made these beautiful bird houses with Daddy in the woodshop.

 He's already sold both of these. The mailman even bought one!

artists at work

These boys LOVE to make art--draw, paint, work with clay, anything. But especially drawing. Grandma has given them a couple of awesome books that teach kids how to draw. They really love these little vintage drawing books by Ed Emberley. We have Birds and The Farm, and they adore them both. 

Few things in this world make me happier than watching my boys fall under the thrall of creating. I can just see them melting into an imaginary world. Madeleine L'Engle calls it kairos time, time out of time, just pure being. I love this excerpt from Walking on Water:

Kairos. Real time. God’s time.

That time which breaks through chronos with a shock of joy, that time we do not recognize while we are experiencing it, but only afterwards, because kairos has nothing to do with chronological time. In kairos we are completely unselfconscious, and yet paradoxically far more real than we can ever be when we’re constantly checking our watches for chronological time.

The saint in contemplation, lost to self in the mind of God is in kairos. The artist at work is in kairos. The child at play, totally thrown outside herself in the game, be it building a sand castle or making a daisy chain, is in kairos. In kairos we become what we are called to be as human beings, co-creators with God, touching on the wonder of creation.

This calling should not be limited to artists, or saints, but it is a fearful calling. It is both Mana and taboo. It can destroy as well as bring into being.

In Our Town, after Emily has died in childbirth, Thornton Wilder has her ask the Stage Manager if she can return home to relive just one day. Reluctantly he allows her to do so. And she is torn by the beauty of the ordinary, and by our lack of awareness of it. She cries out to her mother, “Mama, just look at me one minute as though you really saw me… it goes so fast we don’t have time to look at one another.”

And she goes back to the graveyard and the quiet company of the others lying there, and she asks the Stage Manager “Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it?” And he sighs and says, “No. The saints and poets, maybe. They do some.”

the Makerie

Double delight: a day of creative retreat at the Makerie, and doing it with one of my oldest friends, Jonalee! A day to be inspired, looked after, rejuvenated. 

My first clue to how the day would go was meeting the founder of the Makerie, Ali. We got stuck in traffic (miles of Ironman cyclists--thank you, classic Boulder) and arrived a few minutes late. Ali, a tiny woman with a huge heart, greeted us with hugs, as if we were long-lost friends. I needed to run back to the car to get something I'd forgotten. I was scurrying off when Ali gently told me, "Don't run. Walk slowly and enjoy the morning. There's no rush."

Our day of creative retreat was part of the Summer Series of modern crafting & homesteading workshops. Our retreat's focus was "In the Home."

For our morning session, Jonalee and I did a photography class with Alessandra Cave. We focused on how to capture everyday beauty in our homes. We worked on curating a scene, manipulating camera settings, and capturing natural light.  

The professional photographer at work. Check out Jonalee's photography website. She also has a wedding floral design business, Simply Flowers.

Isn't she loverly?

Just when our tummies started grumbling, it was time for a picnic lunch catered by Eat. 

 

The food was delicious, and the exquisite packaging made me grin like a kid opening Christmas presents. While we ate, we listened to inspirational talks from small-business owners Alicia of Whimseybox and Indea of Lillabee, creative women who have found ways to make a living doing what they love.

After lunch, we headed off to Bird Dog Press to learn some letterpressing skills with Allison. She was a little jumping bean of creative energy and feisty humor. It was a treat watching her manhandle her big, clunky vintage letterpresses and teach us how to make some simple coasters and notecards.

 Samples of our handiwork. So fun! 

Back on the farm, we were greeted with tasty watermelon cocktails, gorgeous appetizers, and lively conversation. Next it was off for a tour of the Farmette with the vivacious, white-haired, Kentucky-drawling Betsy. While we meandered among tidy rows of fennel and Swiss chard and admired the happy hens and goats, a little fairy wonderland was being prepared for our farm dinner. Crust prepared incredible wood-fired pizzas with flavors like prosciutto, mascarpone, fig and honey. Mmm.

Ali, the founder of the Makerie, is the woman standing up, in the white and yellow dress. Her parents and husband were there, too. They seem like such a kind and supportive family.

 I loved the welcoming words on our table settings:

Draw your chairs in close. 

Sitting down for dinner is an intimate experience--it's about sharing, building community, nurturing & building everlasting relationships.

Dessert (by Lillabee) was so yummy: a coconut pecan ice cream sandwich with coconut caramel and Palisade peaches.

What an experience! I left feeling so blessed by the creative passion, generosity, and joy poured into every detail of the day by all the people who made it happen. What a luxury to spend a day with like-minded people, from different walks of life but all eager for more creativity, joy and purpose in their daily lives. 

The snippets of conversation, the tears in the eyes of a woman who talked about releasing the "suppressed artist," the zest for life oozing out of the farm's owners Mike and Betsy, the older woman beside me at dinner who asked me point-blank, "So what exactly do you have to lose by dedicating yourself to finishing your novel this year?," the sense of community and connection to earth and land and place, the possibility of teaching in a venue outside academia, the idea of life being too short to plod along without realizing a dream: it's all resonating inside me. We'll see where this new energy takes me. In the meantime, I'm grateful.