Sunday, September 30

must dash

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I wish I had more time to write comprehensively here, about what having a little baby is like. Really like. It's like so many things. Like a full bookshelf with not much moving room but lots of stories.


Life has been busy in a good way. The blues are gone and the anxiety of being at times all day alone with a baby has abated. When he reached three months three things happened: he found his hands, he found his voice, and we found he could entertain himself for longer periods of time.


My mom has been coming up many days and offering her skills in the garden and house. Cardinal flower, scabiosa, creeping jenny, lariope were planted. I found a few pots of verbena and put them in the ground to reseed. The room off the kitchen is getting painted sunbeam yellow.


I've been trying to be more mindful. Because it's so easy to rush. To feel like one isn't getting ahead, or even keeping abreast. What are the daily decisions that keep us happy? That keep us remembering the whole picture? Soaking it all in, soaking in the details even as they can overwhelm. Focusing on what needs to be done and forging ahead when some days I just want to curl up in bed and nap.


Keeping a sense of humor. Noticing the little pleasures: the color of the beets in the smoothie, the goldfinches swooping on the echinacea, the line in the book that catches my heart. The mistletoe cactus that hung on the porch on summer and which the insects pollinated into fruiting. The woods path, finally cleared over days of quick trims while holding Cedar. The shocking red geranium still blooming strong. The frozen peaches from last month found forgotten in the freezer. The barn sale down the street I was able to get to. A postcard from a friend.


Must dash.

xo Brooke





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Thursday, September 27

the field

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On the way home from the cabin we had to pull over since the babe was crying fit to burst in his carseat. (I have to say, driving with Cedar in the car is the most stressful thing. Having him upset and in a place where I cannot easily comfort him is awful. I so wish we had a horse and buggy instead.) We pulled into a gas station, got him out, and wandered into the field next door which was dotted with monarchs. We found this path there, one of the most beautiful I've seen or walked on. There, by a gas station, off the highway.




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Wednesday, September 26

the golden hour

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More pictures from our golden hour photoshoots at the cabin.






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Tuesday, September 25

Lately

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We've been having french toast almost every morning. Tim's new thing is to make a hole in the bread and pour a whole egg in and cook it like that.


My mom and dad and Tim spent a whole day tearing out massive hunks of forsythia and putting in the beginning of the garden. My mom brought lots of splits from her garden to share into mine ~ I'm going to tuck in lots of purple allium bulbs as well as giant daffodils since there's nothing like yellow after the winter. I've been cutting my yellow cosmos to pop into my thrifted turquoise Japanese vase ~ orange cosmos are profusive in coming up everywhere from the seeds I collect and scatter each year wherever I live. They were originally from my Great-Aunt Evelyn's plants up north and each year I forget I only want to gather from the yellow plants until it's too late and I've already got a great handful of mixed seed.


Cedar has started trying to talk. He takes considerable pride in it and sounds like a baby loon or an owl. It is beyond words. Yesterday we had tea and a chat with a friend and her new son, born 3 days after Cedar. I think seeing another little baby blew his mind. This morning he awoke earlier than usual and we came downstairs to find 3 deer eating one of our bushes and the shadows in the backyard sunbeams showing the descent of a turkey vulture onto the roof. The hummingbirds migrated while we were on vacation but the cardinals are still going strong and I look forward to seeing them in the snow.


The house is about 60* now in the mornings so I put on the space heater, make some breakfast and then cozy him and I into the great room with the doors closed, by now warmed up. Soon we will need to put wood-burning inserts into the two fireplaces and bank them up well in the evenings so the coals last till morning. The leaves are beginning to fall, importantly, slowly, from incredible heights. A little while every day recently I've put Cedar into the Moby wrap, grabbed the red clippers, and gone out into the woods to clear our trail. He always falls asleep to the crackling of twigs underfoot and the sound of the wind in the boughs.






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Monday, September 24

More

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More from the cabin.


The rainbow in the polaroid was enormous. The hugest one I have ever clapped eyes on. And its double was visible (polaroid doesn't do rainbows well so that doesn't show). I almost fell off the lawn when I saw it while puttering around down by the rocks and ran to get Tim because I always like to show what I see to other people so we can all gloat together.


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I'm appreciating the comments on the last post, so if you have something (kind and encouraging) to add, I'd love to read it.

xo Brooke



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Saturday, September 22

the poof kaleidoscope

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At the cabin.


These pictures may make the week look all pretty and golden, but don't get me wrong, life with a 12-week old is intense. Biceps gets tired, tempers frayed, laundry piles up, challenges grow and having the brain for an interesting conversation or trying to enjoy the feeling of leisure when it might at any moment end is difficult.


Fortunately, it gets easier each day. And there are moments like in these photos, carved out, hacked out, searched for and sipped sweetly for each hour of toughness. Sometimes the toughness isn't even too tough.


But Tim and I do our best. We make the good stuff happen. I know it's our own personal story, our own experience but I have to hand it to families of more than one child. Or of even one child, you know? Wow. How do you find the energy, the brain, to grasp it? To really enjoy each moment instead of getting swept along, waiting to catch up to what already passed, already changed? What can I do to never forget his silky cheeks? Does it go on this fast forever? There's so much good, big, bad, ugly, fantastic, about me, about Tim, about our life ~ how to keep up with it all when poof it all just exploded tenfold like a kaleidoscope with the advent of this little guy's arrival?






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Friday, September 21

pine & cedar

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My mom found me that gorgeous table at a garage sale. It's a handmade pine table the guy's father made about 70 years ago. I keep putting things on it to see the effect. On an unrelated note, Cedar passed 12 weeks last wednesday. We love him so.





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Thursday, September 20