June 14, 2011 @ 9:40 am | Filed under: Country Life,Family,Pure Sunshine,Uniquely Me
“Life is pretty simple: You do some stuff. Most fails. Some works. You do more of what works. If it works big, others quickly copy it. Then you do something else. The trick is the doing something else.” ~Leonardo da Vinci
In the past four months:
- We moved to a new town, away from family, friends, and church
- Said town is a rural town where I need to drive to yet another town in order to visit Walmart
- I finished a five year college career and GRADUATED
- Our youngest finished a four year college career and GRADUATED
- I witnessed my first snake and then…my first mouse
- I built a deck, with a *little help from my man. Okay, maybe it was the other way around…
- We spied newly born buzzards in the window of the old haybarn
- We planted our first-ever garden
- I have sat many mornings and evenings on the deck we built and delighted in the cows in the back pasture
- We’ve hosted several rich and fun-filled family and friends weekends at our country place
- I got a TEACHING JOB!!
- I witnessed my first newborn calf
- We’ve begun to harvest the vegetables from our garden – such deliciousness!
All of this has happened in the past four months and I’ve not blogged about any of it. It’s been the equivalent of a thick tongue and dry mouth…LOTS to say but no real way to put it all out there and feel like I am doing any of it real justice.
I woke up this morning though and – as I walked through my house, with the sunshine splaying happily on the floors of this old house, my coffee cup warm and cradled in my hands – I realized I am doing more of an inservice by not at least attempting to journal all this newness.
All this wonderfulness.
I am not an ordinary farm girl. What is the antithesis of a farm girl? Find that word in the dictionary and I am sure you’d come much closer to finding my picture attached. Yet I am experiencing such a deep-seated contentment and sense of wonder these days that is making this transition a true adventure.
Google has been my point of reference for everything in the last few months. How far apart should I space my zucchini plants? Google. What does poison ivy look like? Google. What are the nesting habits of buzzards? Google. What kind of flowers do I need to put in my garden to keep away the bugs? Google. What kind of snake is this? Google. Pros and cons to having a farm cat? Google. Recipes for thing to do with zucchini when you have a bumper crop? Google.
Trust me, it goes on and on. And this not-your-ordinary transplanted farm girl/teacher/writer couldn’t be happier about it all. That’s not to say that snakes and mice bring any sort of happiness at all. I do, however, accept that they have their specific place in this wild new territory I now call home, and I respect that.
And that, my friends, may be the newest new stuff of it all.
I may not have all the right words to introduce this new life to you, but I do promise to try. I will leave the bits of pieces of writing that is happening now that my soul has found this fresh inspiration in the country air. I will upload pictures of birds and of projects and of any variety of animals and/or pests. I will share glimpses of the joy and wonder we are finding here as we make memories we’ll treasure forever with family and with friends.
This promise is brought to you by a not-so-ordinary farm girl.
contentment, Family, laughter, living simply, memories
January 25, 2011 @ 9:16 pm | Filed under: Soul Food,The Solid Rock
I drove along the unfamiliar road, going maybe 50 mph at best. The sun was quickly setting in the west, much faster than I had hoped. I had left my house forty minutes earlier for the hour and a half road trip, equipped with nothing more than anxiety over navigating country roads by myself and – of course – my trusty GPS.
His name is Walter. You know, the faceless guy who gives you minute-by-minute driving directions. The same one that announces, “You missed your exit. One moment. Redirecting.” Walter and I had made several trips together before this night, and he’d not given me any reason to doubt him before now.
Yet—as darkness settled down amongst the trees on either side of this narrow county road—heaviness settled on my shoulders. The beauty from the sunset quickly lost its glow for me as I realized I was alone on back roads that were strange to me. And growing stranger by the minute.
Walter broke into my thoughts, causing me to jump at the sound of his voice. “Turn left in 800 yards.”
I swallowed hard, glancing around me. I wasn’t at all sure that Walter was right this time.
Trees—tall and close together—were all I could see on either side of me. There were none of the telltale markers I’d been assured I would see.
I fought against the pounding in my heart and the uncertainty that taunted my mind.
At 800 yards…I turned. Walter had told me too, after all…
I drove on—in blind faith—for another three or four miles. Just as I was about to succumb to the fear and the anxiety, I began to catch glimpses of those markers. And then I heard Walter’s voice again.
“You have reached your destination.”
This jaunt down an unfamiliar country road so closely parallels my journey through life at times. Just when I feel surrounded by unsurmountable obstacles, just when I feel isolated and alone, just when I feel I have lost my way…
I hear His voice.
Trust in the LORD and do good; dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture. – Psalm 37:3
I may not always see the way clearly. I may not always maintain confidence in my path. I may not even make the trip without doubt or without fear.
My job is to continue the journey.
His voice has never given me any reason to doubt His direction before.
Blind faith tells me I will one day hear these sweet words…
“You have reached your destination.”
October 6, 2010 @ 8:31 am | Filed under: Pure Sunshine,Soul Food
October gave a party;
The leaves by hundreds came -
The Chestnuts, Oaks, and Maples,
And leaves of every name.
The Sunshine spread a carpet,
And everything was grand,
Miss Weather led the dancing,
Professor Wind the band.
~George Cooper, “October’s Party”
_______________________________________
I would say that autumn is my very favorite time of year. Except that I know me and I know that come April, I will be jonesing the Spring breeze every bit as much as I am relishing the fall ones right now.
I think it’s the distinct change in seasons that I crave, those few days when you can throw open the doors and the windows and welcome nature to come inside and mingle for a while. For me, it’s a sacred communing. It feeds my soul, and I find inspiration and a fresh zest for life when I take a few minutes to breathe in the beauty in the change.
That happened around here last week. Unfortunately, when I was through “breathing it in,” I no longer had the luxury of time to write about it. School is slamming me right now, but in the big midst of a research paper on the disciplines of English, and locating subtext in children’s picture books, and in learning all the laws and by-laws of special education in the state of Texas, trust me – I am absorbing the beauty of Fall 2010.
And I’m allowing it to spill itself into the spaces where we live…
Where we gather.
And into our kitchen.
We welcome you, Fall! Feel free to stay around a while.
contentment, fall delights, living simply
October 4, 2010 @ 5:26 pm | Filed under: Family,Pure Sunshine
of a weekend well-lived…
1.) Carter’s FIRST football game since having his cast removed! BIG DAY!
2.) Next up…Madie’s volleyball game. The girl’s got game, y’all – she made us PROUD!
3.) Moments I treasured when they didn’t even know I was looking!
A weekend well-lived. A weekend well-loved.
contentment, Family, grandkids, nieces
September 27, 2010 @ 4:52 pm | Filed under: Uniquely Me
I’m trying to slow things down, even if for only a few minutes.
School work slammed me last week, and I was pretty much held hostage by a whole host of papers, exams, research topics, and projects.
In between all the craziness, though, there were moments of pure bliss. And even though I missed blogging about them right after they happened, I certainly don’t want to miss mentioning them because…they were THAT special to me.
So…to recap…
1.) Madie turned 11! In true family fashion, we celebrated BIG.
Then after that HUGE meal and even BIGGER amounts of LAUGHTER and LOVE, it was time to head back to the grindstone for several more days of hard work and deadlines. Boo.
Friday DID finally arrive, however, and with its arrival came a very special evening. Our dear friends were installed as the new pastors of a great church. Our own pastor delivered a touching keynote message. The entire night was amazing on every level and MJ and I were so honored to share the night – and the experience – with some of the BEST people we know. Dawn and Kevin – we LOVE you dearly!
We arrived back home in Commerce a little after midnight, and were back up at 6:30 the next morning. I would say, bright n’ early, except there was nothing bright going on at all. It was a dark and stormy morning, to be sure, but the Bois d’ Arc Bash 5K Run was on – rain OR shine!
So we pulled on our shoes, caps…and rain ponchos…and lined up at the entry booth to receive our bib numbers and race maps. Then we stretched, chatted, and tried to stay out of the rain until the call came to approach the starting line.
Then the next thirty-five minutes were some of the MOST fun I’ve ever had with my husband. I had to laugh as I thought of all the weeks of training I had endured and how NONE of it had prepared me for running in a torrential downpour and leaping deep and wide puddles with a single bound…
We managed to cross the finish line TOGETHER and we must have been grinning from ear to ear because amid all the cheers I made out, “Look at those smiles!’ And I have no doubt we WERE smiling. It was fun, plain and simple.
MJ didn’t have the luxury of the same amount of training times so the effort he put forth is all the more to be praised. He’s my hero! He also makes me laugh – a LOT.
I walked into the living room late Saturday afternoon and found him sitting in his chair. “How’s your body?”
“It hurts.” He patted his lower stomach. “Everything from my navel down.”
Like I said, he makes me laugh.
And when I laugh – with MJ, with our family, with friends – I gulp in big breaths of fresh air.
Just the remedy for an intense week, don’t you think?
September 16, 2010 @ 6:21 am | Filed under: Motherhood,She said,Uniquely Me
A few years ago I started making random confessions to the world. Blogging is like that. It brings out all sorts of personal things you would normally only tell a best friend. Suddenly you are perfectly comfortable sharing things like the fact that you just went to Wal-Mart and – midway down the bread aisle – couldn’t remember if you’d changed out of your pajama bottoms before leaving home. Disclaimer: I did, however, change first. I was fully clothed for the bread run. Just not necessarily in my right mind.
At the time you are typing the aforementioned sensitive information into your laptop (thinking of it as a sort of therapeutic exercise) it seems like you are just writing for yourself. No harm done. But then you look at the stats from the day and realize hundreds of people you don’t know and everyone googling “funny Wal-Mart stories” forevermore now know the embarrassing truth about your declining state of mind and the fact that there are just those days that you don’t have it all together. They know you are (gasp), REAL.
I have also revealed over the past few years that I suffer from a disease.
“Hi. My name is Staci and I am recovering from perfection-itis.”
Okay, so the disease is fake, but the symptoms were very real. Suffering from Perfection-itis years ago meant I based my contentment in life by how nearly perfect I could bring every portion of my life. How perfect my home was. How perfect my daily word was. How well-behaved my children were. How well I could orchestrate all these things at once. And let me tell you – it was, like, um…never!
Over and over my expectations were dashed on the rocky cliffs of attempts and failure. Exhaustion and dismay kept me bound, held prisoner by the unseen hand of the impossible.
Cooking and writing and nesting are things I love. There is nothing wrong with being passionate about how God has gifted us. Creativity is a blessing and I am grateful for it every day. But when the creativity became more of a burden and less of a joy, it was time to examine my priorities. It took a while (and some days I still have to “go to a meeting”) but I finally learned the important lesson that a happy mama makes a pretty perfect home. And time spent on the knees is what helps Mama get her happy on. And with a good dose of happy, the well-behaved children and the word count and the picked-up house all seem to find their respective spots on the list of priorities.
It’s a constantly changing list and – for each season of life – the changes seem to only grow. My system isn’t perfect, nor will it ever be. But I’m learning to to wholeheartedly embrace this one amazingly beautiful and imperfect life that I have been blessed with.
And that’s my random confession for the day.
contentment, laughter, life lessons, living simply
September 8, 2010 @ 6:35 am | Filed under: Soul Food,Uniquely Me
“The ability to simplify means to eliminate the unnecessary so that the necessary may speak.” ~ Hans Hofmann
“Hey Nana.” Kendall walked into the kitchen. It was the twinkle in her eyes more than her excited tone that captured my attention. “Can you come here for a minute?”
I dried my hands on a towel and then followed her into the living room. She walked to the shelves that now housed Mama’s salt and pepper shakers. I thought for sure she must have more questions about them. She reached one tiny hand out but – instead of fingering one of the sets – she pointed to the round tin with the letters S I M P L I F Y stenciled on the side that sat on the bottom shelf.
“Did you know – ” Her voice lowered to a bare hush “- that there’s change in there?”
I did know, but often forgot.
I had picked up the tin at a little store in Jefferson last year during our annual cousins trip. Mike and I had just entered Phase I of our Big Adventure and the message on this can was a ready reminder that everything we might be sacrificing in the short term was going to pay large dividends in the long term.
We placed it on this shelf and had gotten into the habit of dropping our spare change into it. Over the course of many months it had become quite the nice change tin. Particularly for a curious six-year old, who thought she’d just hit some major pay dirt.
Her words still linger with me – even now, a few weeks later. There’s change in here.
The irony isn’t lost to me.
We’ve made a very deliberate choice to live a simple life. Making daily choices that bring us closer to our ultimate goal. A place we want to create for us and for our families, a place that will be the legacy we hand down to our kids.
The place where we’ll grow old together, sipping early morning coffee on a back deck and hosting family weekend dinners in our outdoor living area. It will be the hub of happiness and hope, where love is the constant that bonds us all.
But sometimes - in the midst of THE RIGHT NOW – when the issues of work and school and the busyness and craziness that comes with our schedules rears up…I forget.
I forget that simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.
I forget that life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.
I forget that you have succeeded in life when all you really want is only what you really need.
There is change in here!
I know this, and don’t want to forget. This morning it is fresh on my mind and newly imprinted on my heart.
There is change inside of simplicity. And that is what I am in pursuit of.
contentment, life lessons, living simply
July 1, 2010 @ 6:54 am | Filed under: It's a Girl Thing,Uniquely Me
Rainy days have a certain kind of magic.
I’m quite certain of it, because when the rain starts to fall, these little things begin to happen inside of me. Little moments. Bursts of productivity, interrupted often with sentimental thoughts. Stopping and seeing the moment for what it really is.
Pausing and remembering what really was.
This went on throughout the afternoon and then came the really good…the hardest rain…and the most precious moments of my day.
I escaped the confines of the four walls, easing onto the highway with all the other rain-soaked commuters. I left in plenty of time to make it with ease to church, stopping first to run a couple of the briefest errands on the way.
At the first store the rain was just cascading in torrents and – wouldn’t you know it - the umbrella did the unruly umbrella thing and popped two spokes. Leaving me soaked and more than just a bit wind-blown in a parking lot full of distracted, hurried shoppers.
Finally inside, I remained stuck, banished by the rain to my quaint little spot, so I meandered the aisles and waited for my best chance for an exit. I fingered exquisite pieces of merchandise I would not ordinarily look at twice, and took the time to stop and purchase a warm cup of coffee.
Back in the car, premature darkness hovered, and the insistant pounding of the rain turned me back towards home…finally, home…where it continued to rain, dimming the house into a cozy place where I changed into dry, warmer clothes and then curled up on the sofa with a cup of tea.
Now that’s a sentence I never thought I’d type in the middle of summer in Texas!
I lit a candle , sipped tea, and lazily flipped through picture albums, and it hit me.
Rain or shine…I am content.
That is a very good feeling.
February 11, 2009 @ 6:11 pm | Filed under: Soul Food,Uniquely Me
I read the following quote in an article a few days ago:
“Happiness makes me useless. Anger and sadness are inspiring.”
This was said by a well-known music artist who – although not one of my favorites – is certainly looked up to, and respected, by many.
I moved on from the article, but then came back to it several times, just to read that one quote again. Something about it bothered me, but also begged me to look at it closer, more in depth.
To read it once is to be bothered by the sheer absurdity of it. Anyone who read this probably had much the same reaction.
But to read it again (and again and again) is to see (whether we want to admit it or not) there is some validity to her words.
Happiness, for the most part, is shallow and fleeting. What makes us smile today often bugs us tomorrow. What fulfills today no longer will satisfy tomorrow. Things, people, situations – they come and go, alter and change. There is no stability in these things and, because of this, the happiness that we claim to derive from them is also subject to instability.
What I have personally found while in this particular (shallow) state of happiness is that I often become complacent and fail to produce what I am capable of producing. This state often breeds the “it’s all about me” mentality and fosters a false sense of self-centeredness.
In short, it makes us lazy and ineffective. It spoils us.
Yet when I acknowledge these times without clinging to them, when I appreciate them without camping out on their doorstep – at these times they serve as a catalyst instead of a hindrance. When I look through the lens of truth I am able to see these times for what they truly are.
I draw from them but I don’t bank on them. I enjoy them but I don’t depend on them.
While I still find this artist’s words a bit jarring, I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt and assuming that she sees it this way too.
Happiness that breeds ineffectiveness is not true happiness. So, yes, in a sense it can make us useless.
Anger and sadness aren’t inspiring. But, yes, they are often the motivation for change for the good.
