see the wind

On nice days, we lay the quilt on the ground under the shady oak tree outside.  We sit and watch the world around us. He chases the bugs and collects sticks. She kicks and coos with delight.  I watch, revel, and take pictures.

His mind is curious, an explorer by nature, he is a child and a boy.  He believes he can climb very tall trees and wonders where the bugs go when they sink into the cracks on the sidewalk.  The world is alive and ready to be learned.

A breeze is often blowing in from the lake down the street, filling the leaves with a joyous rustle, a summery tune.  One day, he pointed as he watched them dance.  I told him, that’s the wind in the leaves.  Wind, he responded in his own way.  Now whenever he looks out and sees the world caught up in a flutter, he says, wind. I don’t correct him, because I’m beaming with delight.  His mind free from the haunting of impossibilities is so pure, vivid and mesmerizing.

Last night, we were visiting my mom and as he looked out the windows of her third floor home, the trees below danced to a melody only they could hear.  She asked, What do you see?
Wind, he answered.

She was taken back by his answer and laughed out loud, because every adult knows that you really can’t see the wind.  Adults are silly like that, how they get all sensible and such. Then a sense of pride washed over her face at the wonder that is her grandson.

But children, they are eager to soak in the magic of life, optimists by default, ready to discover the great big world. They are sponges and they hang on our every word.  Words about trees and words that affirm them.  Like many, I read The Help and was so moved at the love that Abileen had for Mae Mobley. When her own mother wanted little to do with her daughter, Abileen, the maid, took it upon herself to instill in that girl a very crucial message. “You is kind. You is smart. You is important.”  She told her every chance she could, but maybe it only took once for her to capture that affirmation and store it deep inside.

We have this great opportunity to pour into these little lives, these messy, little, exhausting darlings and if we are intentional, they will grow up to believe that they are all the things we tell them.  They will see the goodness in people and in themselves, they will find truth, beauty, and hope.
In a world were so many have traded in the possibility of magic for the realism of sensible, they will see the wind.

P.S. The most beautiful post.

the pie project– brown butter and cheddar apple pie.

 

 

I was drawn to this recipe because, hello, cheddar in an apple pie? I need to know more.  But it’s not such an unusual combination, because beyond the crust, apples and cheese are darlings. While reading the notes I saw,

“She employs no cinnamon or nutmeg to cloak their sweet perfume; instead she browns some butter, which complements the apples with a faint nuttiness.”

I realized probably every apple pie I’ve had called for those spices, so I was intrigued. This wasn’t overly sweet and syrupy like many apple pies, I enjoyed that. So often desserts can leave you feeling heavy, this was light, crisp, and delicious.  The apples were slightly sweet, but mostly tart.  In my opinion, the crust was the star of the show with that hint of cheddar at the end.  It was the kind of melt in your mouth flaky that floods your mind and heart with memories of comfort and happiness.

 

Paired with a French press of Starbuck’s Café Verona blend.

Apparently, a pretty pie crust is an art to be learned, because mine looks sad.  Look at this post full of great tips that I found this morning from everyone’s favorite Pioneer Woman.

Do you have any clever little pie tricks? Does making pies terrify you?  What should I make next time?  And if anyone decides to attempt their own pie project or (insert you own whatever here), let me know.

the pie project

Last weekend during our lake escape, we asked the motel manager for eating recommendations.  First thing he said was, “Betty’s Pies.” I’m certain we heard nothing after that and  knew we would go.   The service was slow-ish, the food was good, but the pie… I guess that’s the whole point.  I spent most of my meal staring at the menu, because this was a very important decision. We choose French Blueberry Cream and we were not disappointed.

As my son and husband built towers out of coffee creamers, I decided right then that I wanted to make more pies.  I also want to grow old to be one of those ladies who people beg to make her famous pies. Pies don’t get the recognition they deserve in the unjust world.  Cakes can be so iffy with all that nasty buttercream icing, so uncertain, but pies ooze comfort from under their crispy, buttery crusts.

And there’s coconut cream and rhubarb and pecan and my friend Danielle’s amazing chocolate pie.  I’m just saying, pie.

So, I’m starting a little project,  mysteriously named, the pie project, where I will try a new pie recipe every two weeks.

 

 

1. Since I grocery shop for two weeks at a time. 

2. Because we can’t eat pie everyday, well …we could, but we’re not.

First to celebrate our awesome sauce anniversary is this browned butter and cheddar apple pie from food52.  

I’m making this as soon as nap time commences. But for now, I need to know, are you team pie or team cake?  And if then, what is your absolute favorite?

I’m also taking reservations for coffee and tea time.

If you are on pinterest, I started a Pie Project board here.

 

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