Understanding life by the stone bridge

“This is the place of all our firsts,” she said.  We sat on a concrete bench just off the trail.  Runners and dog walkers passed.  Professors and students stretched their legs and cleared their minds in the middle of a Tuesday. 

Two babies slept in the two strollers, one on either side of us.  My oldest daughter climbed rocks in her natural fearless way.  Jumping and pouncing, so free and unaware of the high chance of smashing her head into the jagged stones and or slipping into the water.  Tragedy never came, but there were close calls.  Always close calls. She laughs in the face of those.  She ran through the leaves of last year, hunting the largest rocks to drop from the little stone bridge.  Sometimes a heavy one splashed her face and she giggled.  To say “don’t get wet or messy” is a waste of words, so instead, I suggest that her feet not get too wet because we didn’t have other shoes.   Her clothes were already a little dirty, since we got dressed in the dark.  To be honest, there is always a bit of dirt somewhere on my Harper girl, smudged on her face or knees, I wouldn’t change a thing. I’ve decided that I have more to live for than spotless children.

A reddish-brown hawk landed on a light post, clenching its lunch.  On the menu was mouse, all the way dead.  We stopped to watch.  Its wings were spotted black and white.

The air was cool and an early spring grey lingered.  Our feet were slightly chilled, because we had dressed optimistically rather than practically.   The woods were not yet green, clinging to the hues of last season.  The little brook trickled over the rocks and rippled as  breezes swept through the clearing. 

Next week, my friend and her little family sets off on a new adventure.  Here in the richness of these hours, we talked about this place.  I happen to know a few things about moves and new adventures, I’m rather fond of that genre.  To reflect on the way that leaving brings a great understanding of what a place has been is a beautiful thing. Chapters close. Stories advance.  It’s not a finality that comes with the end, as all the ends of our days just bleed into a new beginning, until the very great end which will lead into the greatest eternal. So, what is the end really, but a small word we use to make sense of that which we attempt to define. 

We paused as the runners ran and walkers walked, as another rock splashed in the water, and the babies snored.  Little feet stuck out from blankets.  Having faced similar experiences in this season, we celebrated how we were eternally grateful for the lessons and growth, because we would never be who we are today without those obstacles.

Sometimes, we take roads less travelled and not because we’re more amazing, it’s simply because not everyone needs to take the same path.  On my journey, I won’t face the same troubles as you may, but there will be times when our ways cross and then we will lift each other off the ground, shake the dust and continue onward. My greatest trials may wear a different mask, but bravery and hope are the same within us all.   We are shaped and refined.  We contribute what we have and who we are, which is always enough.

The ones who stay and build.  The ones who risk and question everything. The ones who float about with no place to belong.  The ones who encounter new lands and claim them as home. Home, belonging, mission, and purpose may sound different to us all, but bravery and hope are written in all our stories.  We must recognize them in our own lives. We compliment each other.  We need not conform. 

On most days, I question what everything means and what happens next, not out of discontentment, but because I will forever be paying student loans for that English degree.  Give me a good book and I will happily praise the most beautiful words and draw out themes and meaning. How does this character grow in light of their challenges?  How does this experience shape the story? I don’t just want to read a story, I want to explore it and understand each part.  I’m not into the casual, light read that is tossed aside and forgotten.  I suppose that’s also how I want to live too, always with meaning and connection. 

Here amidst the towering trees so bare and exposed by winter,  we rested in the beauty of truly being understood by each other, in the comfort of friendship, hearts and souls safely unveiled and vulnerable.  We speculated and dreamed about what lies ahead, naively though, because how can we know.  I won’t pretend I do. 

Over  warm coffee and a bag of cookies pulled out of nowhere, we celebrated the closing of this first chapter for my friend.  As we walked back to our cars, the sun sliced through the thick blanket of grey that had lingered all morning.

In a story, we call that foreshadowing.

 

 

 

 

on the richness of life

The generous morning sun streams in, casting a halo on the peach and yellow blossoms in the jar, early birthday flowers.   And two little kids who were promised a treat for going to bed early eagerly devour the reward, even though they only kept up 70% of the bargain.  But, when a floppy child with bedhead stumbles into your room and says, I just woke up so that I could have my treat for going to bed,  the many attempts and long delays are forgotten.  
He wants to know where all the people are, because he can’t find a single person who was here, when he came out to use the potty last night, probably just to be sure there were in fact, no kids.
I fell asleep stuffed with delicious sweets and laughter and a heart completely blessed a night of friends new and old; conversations ranging from hilarious and ridiculous all the way to encouraging.   As I walked throughout the house closing windows and twisting shades, gratitude spilled out into the quiet darkness, for a home that is big enough to be filled and for the people to fill it.
I thought of the friends we left in Minnesota and I missed their presence in my home.  I thought about the fantastic contributions they would have added to the table.  Perhaps one of Danielle’s famous flourless cakes? Or the latest new culinary experiment that Elle would have tried.  I wondered what stroke of consistent genius my sister-in-laws would have presented.   And the local girls who couldn’t come because of last minute life.  The friend who would have brought cookies fresh from store bought dough, because no one at all hates cookies and everyone has something to offer that is uniquely them and beautiful.   And the one who recently moved away, but insisted upon telling me what she would bring, anyways.  I love that about her and I can’t wait to taste that Very Berry Coffee Cake.
In the last 11 years, in my winding trail from Michigan to Florida to California to Tennessee to Minnesota and now,  North Carolina, I’ve been fortunate to collect some of the finest people and moments in my vault of life.  And unlike the vault of a banker, the value never decreases, it only grows and memories sweeten with time.
Everyone has something to offer that is uniquely them and beautiful and we’re all better off when we believe it, about each other and ourselves. 
It’s the richness of life, the way the pieces are shaped just so.


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A night under the twinkle lights

Sometimes, we still feel new here, although the police officer who pulled over my husband didn’t seem to agree when he saw his still out of state license.  Oops. Moving somewhere new when you are grown up is tricky, it takes time to get to know people and time isn’t always something that you have sitting around in excess.  Time or energy, basically the same thing. 

My friend and I have talked about starting all kinds of groups, book clubs, creativity nights, Bible studies, even morning coffee dates.  We long for community and a place to encourage, where real conversation happens, not mindless small talk or ridiculous mommy judgment nonsense.  A place to breathe softly and refresh.  Where ladies with different opinions, parenting styles, hobbies, denominations can just be and enjoy a few hours together. 

Last night this happened, in my backyard.  White lights hung in the trees and a heart garland danced in the wind.  A charade of quilts and blankets were spread on the grass, where we would sit as the sun sank beneath the trees, and then be a feast for the swarms of mosquitos.  The table was filled with pretty plates, iced coffee, tea, cookies, and wild mushroom brie, Thank God for brie. Always.

Admittedly, I was nervous of how it everyone would mesh, as the invitation read,, invite friends.  Yet at one point, when the all natural bug spray failed us, we sat in a circle wrapped in blankets laughing, not because we were cold, but to baracade the pesky buzzers who wanted to destroy us. It all seemed very slumber party-ish and that is one thing we all know, because no matter who we are or what we do, we were all thirteen at a slumber party once.

 

We are hoping to have nights like this on a regular basis, because sometimes the very thing we are searching for, we must create ourselves. 

As I was preparing for the evening, I was searching for the perfect quote or reading to share.  Nothing spoke to me until I read through my collection of highlighted passages on my Kindle.  Instantly, I knew.

“Let us not lose our laughter girls,” said Mrs. Blythe.

“Sometimes a laugh is a good as a prayer.”

Rilla of Ingleside, LM Montgomery

Charleston Part 2- The Coffee

I probably don’t even have to write a single word on this post, because you know my affection for coffee.  After all, coffee is my love language.  One of the things I anticipated the most on our little reunion trip was the coffee dates.  In college, these happened daily.  Sometimes we had hours to spare, sometimes, we’d fly to Starbucks on Friday afternoons with 15 minutes until our next class for a latte.  Occasionally, we walked in late, but you need priorities. 

In Charleston, we visited the most incredible coffee spot called Hope and Union.  The décor was simple, bright, and cheery. We all gathered around a family sized table with benches, drinking iced coffee served in mason jars. The perfect way to kick off our trip.

 

I just love this photo.  Even little lady knows a perfect coffee date when she sees one.  I’m so proud.

Charleston Part 1- The Friends

A week ago, I was sitting in the company of six of the most spectacular friends that a girl can have.  Our trip to Charleston was nothing short of perfect, except for the part where we had to say goodbye.  I don’t even want to talk about it, because it was intense.  But, now I’m going to talk about it. It was horrible.  To me, it felt as awful as it did the day after our college graduation when our celebrations turned into a brutal reality that we were saying goodbye and parting ways into the big scary world, which none of us suddenly wanted to face.  That’s pretty much how I felt when we all stood around in circle, after lunch on Monday afternoon, wearing our sunglasses to hide the tears that streamed down all of our faces.

It was just so wonderful to spend two and half days together again, just being us.  Words can hardly describe the feeling of being surrounded by friends who know you more than anyone, the ones who became your family, the ones who journeyed with you into the scary world of post-child-almost-adult-college-adult-life, the ones who were in your wedding, and the ones you feel so far away from, too often. 

This post isn’t supposed to drive anyone into a frenzy of tears (good thing you can’t see me right now), it’s just that when you find friends like these and you get to spend time with them, it’s a gift and a treasure.

 

We did what we do best, we laughed, we laughed to the point of tears, we enjoyed leisurely coffee dates, we noticed beauty, inspiration, and perfection where it existed.  We reminisced and talked about boys and (now) husbands and kids. We bought pashminas and shared accessories.  We wore breakfast jewelry and got ready in the bathroom together.  We took photos, literally hundreds of them.  There was al fresco dining, shopping, a visit to the ocean, sunset watching, staying up way too late, and having the most fun possible.

I am so blessed to know these girls and I can’t imagine not having them in my life...  Charleston 2011 was perfection.

 

Up next:  Charleston Part 2: The Coffee

I don't hate Charleston

Oh Charleston.  Thank you for the most amazing trip, filled with sunshine, iced coffee served in mason jars, patio lunches, beer ketchup,  long strolls, endless laughter, incredible moments turned instant memories with some of my dearest on this planet.  I fell in love with you, the beautiful, inspiring, lovely city that you are… I miss you already.  Minnesota has nothing on you.

… except my two boys, which is pretty huge.

I’ll be back soon with many stories and photos, but right now we have back to back visits from family, and I’m still soaking in all the goodness from the past few days.

And… I’m still in denial that I can’t wear my flip flops and sundresses. I don’t want to talk about it.

for the love… it’s snowing again, but the good news is…

Tomorrow I am boarding a plane with the little Harpster and heading south.  First destination North Carolina, where I shall meet up with some of my favorites and get to see three of the coolest little boys.   Then, we load up a rockin’ minivan and head to Charleston to meet three more lovelies for an unforgettable weekend of college friend reunion ultimate amazing extravaganza fun.

I’m quite certain that these ladies are some of the most amazing people ever created and I know that my college adventure would never have been the same without them.  Oh, the golden years.  Were they really so long ago?  Where have all the cowboys gone? It’s always been you,  Summer.  Oops, sorry.  And now we’re all grown up and spread out across the country… and that my readers, is a travesty.   A serious travesty. No wonder the world is falling apart.

I’m still in shock that this trip is actually happening, I mean, we’ve tried to plan a lot of trips, but this time we did more than try.  We planned it.  We booked.  We planned.  We dreamed. We schemed.  We sent approx. 1,000 group e-mails.  We convinced husbands to watch the little boys.  Plane tickets were purchased.  Menus were planned.  T-shirts were mentioned and never made.  Way to go, us.  

I don’t think this trip could come at a better time, because…

It’s snowing again. 

 

However, two members of the family are not as excited about our little trip as we are, but I know they will have fun doing boy stuff.  They are best friends.  I hope they survive without us…. I hope we survive without them.

I’ll be back to blogging next week. 

P.S. winter, be gone when I get home. OR ELSE.

a pleasant distraction

To be honest, I’ve had a less than desirable attitude the past couple weeks.  I’m working on it, I really am.  I probably could be doing a better job but… whatever.  So, there’s that.

This afternoon  {pre-shower and pre-lunch} I received a phone call from a friend, saying, “So I was thinking that I could pick you up in ten minutes and we could go to the antique store that is only open once a month and they close in another hour.”  I was about to say no, due to my current state of  not being ready to face the world, but the husband demanded that I say yes.  {I think he was trying to get rid of me, for a while.  He even said, stay out as long as you need, I’ll take care of the baby.”}

I’m glad I did.

• We visited four antique shops, dreaming and scheming about all that grand things we could do with a few dollars.
• We had a lovely chat with one shop owner, who was also an interior designer.  We talked about how she was possibly going to be renovating a house about five houses down from mine and turning it into a show house, open to the public during the holidays.  How fantastic would that be?
• We found a wonderful, treasure of a gift for a friend.
• We also check out this place that cures country hams, sells fresh produce and other canned goods.  We got to check out the room where the hams hang for months and months until they reach flavor perfection.  (It smelled incredible there.)  I almost bought a bag of locally roasted Country Maple coffee (sounds interesting, yes?)  but then realized that coffee was in abundance in my home, money in the bank, was not.  I definitely will be back there.  We learned about different varieties of squash and pumpkins, too.  When we were leaving, they told us to take a pumpkin home.  We both took pie pumpkins, the lighter ones, apparently are better for making pies.  Guess what I’ll be doing in the next few days?  We asked if they were a new business.  They’ve been there for 35 years.  They must be doing something right.  I can’t wait to try their hams.

I came home on the brink of being inspired and with a much better outlook on the world.  One of the shops we visited opens their warehouse on Saturdays almost flea-market style, only a few blocks away.  We’re going to visit tomorrow morning.

So thank God for pleasant and much needed distractions, and friends who love spontaneity as much as I do, a husband who tells me go out and do something , and free pumpkins, and antiques, and the smell of curing hams, and farmers.

I would like to have a farm and to try country maple coffee, but, I’d be happy with some sort of  development in the whole husband needs a  job/ what is the next step is for our lives.  For now, I’ll drink my Peruvian coffee and anticipate the warm banana bread that is in the oven.  That will be enough for right now.

{My pretty pumpkin}

life impromptu.

Some of the girls had made grand plans to try some fancy restaurant this evening in Nashville, but apparently it took us all until this morning to realize we couldn't afford such extravagance right now and decided on an impromptu Girls Night In. {Isn't that always more fun anyways?} + {More affordable}. It was both, indeed.

Here's the menu:

Bacon wrapped dates, stuffed with Swiss cheese

Roasted spiced chickpeas

Crostini with goat cheese, fig preserves, and walnuts

Spinach salad with strawberries, goat cheese, and walnuts

and something that can only be known as:

All that is good and chocolate cake with chocolate covered strawberries on top

and don't forget, a perfectly black cup of Starbuck's Sumatra coffee.

Not bad for last minute planning, huh?

There was plenty of laughing and chatting, but one of my favorite parts was going through this huge box of goodies that my friend had received from her grandmother's house. My favorite was this little hairpin with three cream circles and the center one had soft pink roses. I mean, I'd never wear it as a hair pin, but it would make a remarkable broach. It was full of all kinds of fabulous + vintage jewelry, scarves, handkerchiefs, buttons, and timeless memories. Great creativity was inspired by all those gems. The kind of creative goodness that made me want to come home and paint.

Also, every time I visit this particular friends' home, I am overwhelmed with inspiration. I love everything about how she decorates her home and often forget what the conversations are about because I get lost admiring this and that. I like having friends like that. I like that no one gets mad at me for doing that.

I even brought home a few little pieces that she didn't want anymore, can't beat that. When, all is said and done, I prefer a quality night in than a big night out on the town any day.

Plus, you can't beat a husband that will stay home with the mr. fussyhead baby on a Friday night, so you can get out for a few hours, no, you can't beat that.

Now, I must try to convince all the ideas swirling in my head that they must wait until tomorrow.