MommyCoddle

I'll probably regret this...

But, it's Friday. And I have a million things to do. And an impending school year breathing down my neck. And mountains of laundry STILL from vacation. And dishes in the kitchen sink. And a messy house.

So, what's a girl to do? Why, make silly movies on her iPad of course! 

And FYI, there's a fan blowing on us (not good for sound quality).

And we are flopped on our tummies on my bed (not good for keeping both faces in the frame of the movie). 

So, with apologies to Adele and Taylor Swift....from the depths of procrastination....

for the sake of a dying art

For the past few weeks, every time I open the mailbox, it's been a bit depressing. Bills. Junk mail. Offers to switch to faster internet and cheaper phones. More TV channels. And even a free hearing aide consultation. Twice, in the past two weeks, I've had days without ANY mail.

There is rarely, if ever, the personal note. 

When we lived on my grandmother's farm, and shared the same mailbox, I was always struck that she received a personal note from someone almost daily. Sometimes even two or three in a day. 

But if you knew my grandmother, you'd know that she impacted many, many people's lives. And oftentimes, people wrote her letters to tell her so. But the other thing about my grandmother is that you could always find her in the back living room, sitting at her desk, balancing her checkbook or writing personal letters. 

She'd drop you a note, say hello, send a clipping from the newspaper, remember your birthday or anniversary. And people often returned her kindness.

Letter writing is a dying art. Can you imagine if just half of the personal emails you received in a day, showed up in your mailbox as note?

Though I'm still failing miserably at letter-writing, I am determined to carry my grandmother's torch and keep this meaningful and timeless form of communication alive and well in my family. 

With this in mind, I decided that I wanted to create my own stationery, hoping it would inspire me to begin to write. 

When it comes to stationery, I prefer notecards versus folded cards and these are very small--only about 3 inches by 5 inches. I'm not out to write a novel, but just a small note to say "hello, I'm thinking of you." They are printed on cover stock with kraft brown recycled envelopes to go with them. 

Now all I need is a good pen. Kidding. (though I do have a thing about pens!)

I thought it would be nice, in the spirit of keeping this tradition alive and to inspire some of you to write a few notes, to give two sets away. Each set will include eight notecards and eight envelopes. 

I toyed with the idea of putting a few up in my neglected etsy shop, since I have printed myself a lifetime's supply, but for today, until I get my act together, I'd love to giveaway two sets here. It's fun to giveaway some of my own work for a change. 

Just leave your own 'hello' on this post....I'll pick two "winners" soon.

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I would be remiss in writing this post without mentioning how I printed these cards. They were printed at home with my Epson R1900. It is a dream printer. The quality and true-ness to color, is remarkable. When my cards were coming out of the printer, I found myself running my hands over the designs, because they almost had the quality of a letterpress. The printer can print wide formats (13 inches) and long (up to 44 inches). You can even outfit it with a roll of paper to print panoramas. If you ever had any hopes of doing some serious designing and printing at home, or printing your own photographs in larger formats, scrapbooking pages, or other creative projects, this printer would be an amazing investment. And I can't wait to see all the great ideas we'll come up with to use it with homeschooling this year as well. I had to tell you, because I love it so! :)

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Happy Weekend, friends and happy old-fashioned letter writing. 

opening up

Hello. I'm still here. Blogging has been taking a back seat to life these days. The weather. The Laundry. A year-end homeschooling review. New friends. Rearranging and decorating. Dishes. Four little girls.

Those are the things that have been calling to me and keeping me away.

But I've also been thinking about blogging a lot lately, as well. Thinking about what it means to me. What I want it to be. What has changed. 

I've been a little nostalgic for the old days of blogging. Nowadays there are so many avenues for us to "connect"--twitter, facebook, flickr, blogging, that in the end all of those places feel kind of diluted to me and less meaningful. 

And while I love my blog for the way it marks time, I miss the interaction and that community feeling. That seems to be missing for me lately.

I enjoy the communication.

I like hearing from people.

Last year I adopted this new "philosophy" about blog reading. I decided that I was only going to leave a comment on someone's blog if I felt like I had something to add to the discussion, or if I felt truly "moved" by what the person had said or written about. 

But now, I've completely rejected that "approach". Blogging is about the interaction and the community and the people. And that means letting someone know you've stopped by. 

To use Emily's analogy of blogland as a neighborhood...if we were neighbors, from the same neighborhood, and I passed you on the street, I would say hello. I wouldn't pass without saying anything just because I didn't have something "meaningful" to say. I'd at the very least, acknowledge you. Chances are good that I might even stop and join into conversation with you. 

And that's kind of how I feel about blogging now. Even if I don't have a lot to say, I need to let people know I've stopped by. I need to say hello, leave a footprint.

But then, there's also reality. Who has time to leave a comment on every blog they read? 

So for me, that has meant doing some serious slicing, dicing and editing of the blogs I subscribe to in my reader. That doesn't mean I'm reading every blog post, every day, but it does make it easier for me to respond to the blogs that I do read.

I liken it to my friendships in college. Freshman year, I was friends with lots of people. Tons of people. I was just happy to be finding friends and people to hang out with. Someone to sit with at lunch. Someone to save me a seat in a lecture hall. But as my college years went on, that group of friends became smaller and smaller. By my senior year, I had a small, close-knit group of friends that I cherished. 

And I kind of feel like I'm in my "senior year" of blogging. I don't need to read 50 blogs. And while I still enjoy discovering new people and places, I have a small group of blogs that I consider part of my community and many I consider close friends. This way, I can hopefully bring back the "old school" approach to blogging. The interaction. The community. The relationships.

So I hope you don't think this is a slap on the wrist to all you blog "lurkers". I will be honest and say that sometimes it is discouraging when I venture over to take a peak at my stats and see how many of you stop by without saying hello...but that's not what this is about. This is strictly about my thoughts and feelings on blogging, for me. 

I think we all go through these phases. Days when we're ready close it all down and walk away. Days when the posts are popping up in our head faster than we can get them out. 

And I think it is good for all of us, me, to give something that oftentimes takes a lot of our time, plenty of thought, evaluation and inspection. 

So if you've made it this far, thanks for reading and patiently wading through my thought-process, as I figure out what my "senior year" of blogging looks like for me.

dreams

Last night I had a dream. Actually, it was early this morning--in that time after Elizabeth woke up, coughing and congested and got into bed with me--the two of us falling sound asleep again. I dreamt that I had written a book. Except that it was still in the beginning stages, unpublished. I gave the pages to my mother, sister and brother-in-law to edit and correct. But I couldn't be there with them while they edited, because I had to be with my brother--we were out on the lake, on his speedboat, that was somehow kept afloat by balloons on long strings of red and white baker's twine. All the boats on the lake had these baker's twine balloons. 

When I returned home, they gave me a copy of my edited writing. They took the liberty of rewriting my work, with their changes, and discarding the original. It was written on wide-ruled lined school paper, in cursive, by my 8 year-old niece. There were pages of kid illustrations stapled to the back, and rainbows and squiggly lines down the sides of the pages. Words were missing from sentences, written in the margins with arrows pointing to where they belonged in the page.

My mother sat across the kitchen table from me as I read, eager to hear how much I loved their changes, what a good job they'd done with it, how it was such an improvement. I couldn't understand where my professional-looking original manuscript had gone. I didn't understand why my niece had re-written this serious work, and how they thought it was remotely "okay" to submit it to my editor. "Well, your sister's typewriter was broken, so we had Abby write it for you. She did such a lovely job, didn't she?" 

I read through their changes, their "improvements". They had changed almost everything. My heart-wrenching details were replaced with babyish sayings, and goofy cliches. I felt stunned. Angry. Betrayed. Heartbroken. Perplexed. Bewildered. Defeated by all the work that was ahead of me, again.

And then, because dreams never resolve themselves, never tie themselves up in a tidy bow before moving on, I woke up. 

And there you have it, a peek inside the mind of a tossing and turning, fitfully-sleeping pregnant woman. I really had no intention of this being the post I wrote this morning, but it was so vivid in my head, I had to put it down somewhere. I had to remind myself not to be mad at my mother and sister when we talked on the phone today. That it was just a dream.

I'll be back tomorrow. I'm bringing back a "simple question". I need some suggestions, and I know you all are just the people to ask.....

am I a modern mom?

Does your library have these newfangled "playaway" devices? These digital audiobook recordings that you can check out? Well, our library has recently introduced them--a hand held ipod-looking device that has a book already loaded on to it. You just plug in your earbuds and listen.

My children have been hounding me about them since the posters started going up in the library and I've really been dragging my feet. I rarely allow the girls to listen to my iPod, though they beg all the time. They have to be really sick, or really pathetic-looking in order for me to give in. Just the sight of them walking around tuned out to the world, plugged in to something else kind of gets to me. It's similar to the whole zone-out in front of the TV thing.

But last night after a homeschooling meeting at the library, I was browsing for some things to bring home to the girls, and there in front of me was the "playaway" for A Cricket in Times Square, the book Emma and I just finished reading, and another easier-read that Mary would be able to enjoy.

And I folded. I stuck those little devices in my bag and checked out.

You can imagine the squealing and excitement that "mom brought iPods home from the library!" when I arrived home last night before bed. Batteries were checked and replaced, earbuds were untangled, buttons were explained, and "ipods" were set out carefully on bedside tables for morning.

This morning, two girls emerged at my bedside, talking extremely loud with wires trailing from their earlobes. Ugh! Am I a modern mom? I don't think I'm there yet.

I'm reminded of this fantastic post by Stefani. Now I just have to think of my "hook" to bring them back to my "little house on the prairie"-fantasy world that I want to live in.

On a more serious and important note, I hope you will take a moment to check out the important NieNie Auction going on at design mom. Amy asked me to share it with all of you. She thinks highly of you all, my dear readers, and hopes you can take a moment to help out. I was unfamiliar with Stephanie's story until this week. She tugs at my heart and demands my continual prayers. Please take a look.

Wishing you a wonderful, long weekend. xo.

Save Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood

My children don't watch much television. In fact, since we've moved to Thomas Run we haven't set up the tv or even hooked up cable service. But we do go through spurts where the television comes out again--a round of sickness, the coldest days of the winter months...

When the television is on in our home and the children are watching, there is only one channel that they watch--PBS. When we lived in Wisconsin, that meant that the girls were able to watch thirty minutes of Mr Rogers each morning. Back then, Mr. Rogers was preceded by an episode of Sesame Street which included a short episode of Elmo's World sandwiched in the middle of the program.

On the days when my children would catch the last bits of Elmo's World before watching Mr. Rogers, the contrast between the two programs was stark. The busyness of Elmo's World, the chaotic music, the jumping from one snippet to the next, the throwing out of lots of information, delivered quickly and with a snappy, fast-paced approach. Some days I could barely stand to be in the same room while the show was on. It was too much to process. Sensory overload.

The show stood in strong contrast to Mr. Rogers Neighborhood. From the beginning, the show was like watching a work of art slowly unfolding. There was routine, a slower pace, peaceful music, a kind voice, a gentle curiosity and encouragement. I felt my mood soften and relax.

Recently, I became aware that Public Television is making plans (already implemented in some states) to remove Mr. Rogers Neighborhood from its weekly lineup for children. In some places, it will get shoved to a weekend time slot, for other stations it will be gone all together.

Mr. Rogers is timeless. It's not only about nostalgia-- watching a show with my children that I watched as a child. Fred Roger's carefully crafted program has a message that is just as important to today's children, if not more, as it was to children of my generation.

In an era where more and more children are parented by their televisions, the need for a program like Mr. Rogers to be on the air holds even more weight and importance. In my opinion, PBS is doing a disservice to children today by removing this show from their schedule.

For me, saving Mr. Roger's Neighborhood really isn't about keeping a show on the air that I want my children to watch. Because chances are, my children won't be watching television very often. My strong feelings about this are stirred up by a concern and care for children today--for the children I don't know and will probably never meet--but children who need the reassuring, encouraging presence of Fred Rogers in their life.

If this means something to you as well, I hope you'll take a moment to check out the site that started this all for me. Brian Linder, a concerned parent from South Carolina, has started a grassroots campaign to save Mr. Roger's Neighborhood.

Has two quotes on his site that really captured some of what I believe about this program.

The first quote is by Fred Rogers himself in an interview with the Archive of American Television. His is talking about the feelings of nostalgia that his show evokes for the parents that watch along with their children:

If the Neighborhood re-evokes their own childhood, when they were watching, that could be one of the greatest gifts we’re giving the next generation because if they’re in touch with who they were as children, they’ll be able to be far more empathic with their own children. That’s something really important.”

The other quote is by Chicago artist and father Chris Ware in a letter he wrote to his station, WTTW:

My three and a half year old daughter is in the early throes of infatuation with the extraordinary person who was Mister Rogers, a man who left a legacy of one of the most carefully collected, collated and constructed works of art created specifically to cradle a child’s fragile, budding sensitivity and ethical consciousness.

Mister Rogers is not flashy, frisky, funky or fantastic. Mister Rogers is slow moving, awkward, simple, low-rent, and even a little bit peculiar and disquieting at times. So is life. In fact, it’s about the last place on television where real life may actually still be found.

I hope you'll take a few moments to explore his site and find out exactly what you can do to make your voice heard on this important issue.

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I received an email last week from Brian about creating a blog button for his campaign. Understandably, he has a full-plate right now, not to mention twin toddlers. I've taken the liberty of creating a blog button by resizing one of the downloadable desktop images on his site. Once I receive the okay from him, I'll be happy to email the code to anyone who is interested in placing a button on their blog as well. Just let me know.

**Brian got back to me last night: Code for a button like the one in my sidebar is below:**

<a href="http://savemisterrogers.com/"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2137/2776973960_349ac965df_m.jpg" /></a>

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up close and personal

macro project 1:30

I just lost this whole post...firefox "closed unexpectedly" on me. It's never as good the second time, so you're going to have to settle for it in list form this time. I don't have the heart to go back and find all my links...

1. Either I'm going to have to start working on my autobiography, or I'm going to have one heck of an "about page". Wow. When a girl asks for questions you all sure do come through! I don't think there was a single question I didn't like. I spent many a laundry-folding and dish-washing session pondering your fabulous questions. And since they all can't be answered in a little old about page, I'll think I'll tackle some here over the next few weeks. Thank you for all the great ideas!

2. I've joined orange flower's 30-day macro photo challenge. (here is where I had lots of links to other creative projects on the web...) I'm jumping in a few days late...but I'll just start my 30 days, today. I'm really looking forward to this. I love that little macro button on my camera, and I've been in the mood for a good creative project.

3. You can pre-order the latest issue of MixTapeZine right over here. I wrote an article for this issue which was one of my "I can't write under pressure" deadlines from the last few weeks. I won't give you details on my review, but if you've been reading my blog for any length of time, you can probably determine which favorite author I've written about.

And finally, some news from the home front that might bore anyone outside of my immediate family... (okay, might bore anyone but my husband):

*Did I ever tell you that the way I discovered Elizabeth was ready for some solid food (like Cheerios) was when I found her pounding the cat food? It's a constant battle in our home because I'm always forgetting to put the bowl up on the counter before putting Elizabeth down on the floor. The girl's got cat food radar. She always knows when it's down. And don't worry, I don't let her eat it. A simple, "Elizabeth???" Is there something in your mouth??" will cause her to spit all slimy contents into my palm.  She only has the occasional fit of lock jaw and refuses to give it up.

Emma has realized that if she plays with my hair while I'm at her bedside giving final kisses and hugs at night, I'll stay there for a ridiculously long period of time. Last night, when I attempted to pull my weak, relaxed body from her fingers that were twisted up in my hair she said, "Mom. Just let me play with your hair one more time while I count to 100." And I didn't even stop her when her brain got stuck on a loop between 40 and 60. How can I resist?

At Emma's riding lesson today she finally got it. Posting at a trot.(oddly, a video of a video) She's been working so hard to figure it out, but it's just one of those things you need to feel--like riding your bike without training wheels for the first time. I'm proud. And her sister is getting impatient for the day when it will be her turn. She's getting sick of sitting on the fence.

go ahead, ask me anything

I have no pictures for this post. So instead you get to see one of the few "say cheese" pictures I've ever taken of my children.

The children's department in our library has a display case that features the collections of the young library patrons. Our family got "the call" for Emma to share her Schleich collection during the month of March. It was quite eye-opening to see them all together. Dan's mother works in a toy store and one of the perks is that my children have been getting a little family of animals in the mail or for any and every holiday since birth. 

It was quite painful for the kids to have their collection on display. When Emma signed up, I don't think she thought about what it would mean to have her whole collection taken away and locked up for a month.
Both of them sort of wandered around the house aimlessly, not exactly sure what their creative play life would look like without a handful of horses, zebras and deer. But they're back and the reunion was sweet.

So on a completely different note and my purpose for this post--questions. Spring fever is hitting my blog and I'm doing a little work on the old sidebar, including finally tackling my "about page". I'm really horrible at this stuff--sizing myself up, describing myself in a neat little paragraph. So instead, I thought I'd put out the all-call for questions. So fire away, ask me anything. Please. I don't care what you ask--where were you born? What color are your eyes? What's your favorite meal? Do you color your hair?  What college did you go to? As long as its not my social security number, home address or checkbook balance, I won't care. Give me some material folks. I'd love to have some questions to answer in my about page, because the long-winded paragraphs I just wrote are no good. And if you don't ask me some good questions, then you'll just have to suffer with the gibberish I just wrote--at ten at night, dinner dishes untouched, dog scratching at the door and someone in ladybug pajamas taking up my spot in the bed.

Help a girl out. Ask me anything.

**PS. thank you for all the birthday wishes for miss mary. warmed my heart.**

take and replace

"Take and replace." It's my new mantra with Emma and Mary these days as they deal with Elizabeth, who now wants to come crashing in on whatever they are doing. Playing with schleich animals? She wants to sit in the middle and suck on the giraffe. Drawing at your desk? She wants to stand up beside you and pull the papers down to shred. So I've taught them "take and replace." Take away what she has that you want. Replace it with something else she'll like.

Maybe that's what Martha Stewart is doing with the new special issue of Martha Stewart Good Things: Kids ? Take away MSKids, replace with MS Good Things? This special issue is good--full of some old favorites that I recognize from my MSKids back issues and some new things, too. Having the issue in hand makes me realize how much I miss Martha Stewart Kids. It makes me want to do something.... like write a letter to Martha or Jodi Levine. Or start a new blog--a petition begging them to bring it back!! There are other good children's magazines out there. Wondertime has filled the Kids-void for me, but it isn't as craft-heavy, which is what I loved about MS Kids...

I sat with the issue last night and went through and made a list of a few of the projects I want to try first--the button bracelets, wrapped pencils, decorated bobby pins. So much good stuff.

I've been an embroidering fool this weekend. I got started on an old bird drawing of emma's that I found which has wing bars. I got it all filled in with the colors she suggested, but then got a little stuck. I'm not sure what direction I want to go from here--a pale grey to fill in the other parts, leave them "blank"? But it made me glad I did a practice run before jumping in with the other sketch. I also need to use less strands of floss in the smaller areas like the beak and dark crown. This is all a fun learning process for me.

**my pictures look so blurry in typepad this morning. they're much better in flickr today. hmm.**

And this morning, just because I wanted something to work on while I drank my cup of coffee, I did this drawing I found buried in my sewing basket. Now Mary is begging for me to do something of hers, too. I'm going to have to make a trip to IKEA this weekend for some cheap frames, if this keeps up. They want to draw everything on fabric. Thank goodness for cheap, but simple muslin cloth.

And speaking of birds, check out these amazing felted birds I stumbled upon last night by Lauren Alane. Aren't they amazing? These kill me. She just updated her shop and sold out, but may be updating again this week, according to her blog. I wish I'd found them earlier. They would have made sweet little valentine gifts for the girls.

It's freezing cold here today. Although I remember, when I lived in Wisconsin, thinking these temperatures being what we called "relief". It's in the twenties. I remember being happy to see double digits again, back in my Wisconsin winter days. Brrr.

stay warm.....

Mini Boden Inspiration

My goal this morning was to sit down at my desk/computer, wade through the piles and eventually, share some boden-love. But when I walked over to my desk with a very hot, very full cup of coffee in hand, I realized there wasn't even a flat surface to set it down on. But I've made some progress--I moved several of the piles on to my bed--so now there's room.

I save my old mini-boden catalogs all the way until a new one arrives. I hate to be without one in the house because I often check them out for applique and sewing inspiration. Do I always follow through? No. But at least they are there when I need a fix. The new one came yesterday. Behold a new season of inspiration:

always good, simple applique ideas:

and these make me want to start searching for an old sweater vest pattern to knit up for the girls:

and the skirts. I always LOVE the skirts. Looks like Henry does, too--notice the paws and whiskers in this shot?:

And Boden also has a new baby section, too. I can't take it.

And on a totally different note--for the record, can I just say that my 3 year-old is a total 'card'--as my grandmother said yesterday. Each morning when Elizabeth wakes up from her nap, Mary goes in, flips on the light and climbs into Elizabeth's crib to play with her. It's become sort of a routine around here and she really anticipates those first coos coming through the monitor. But this morning, she came out Elizabeth's room in this get-up--the pants that Elizabeth was wearing. Really, it's never dull around here.

now's YOUR chance

remember when I fell in love with some fabric from kristen a few weeks ago? right now, as we speak, she's selling a few pieces in her shop. go check and don't miss out. they are beautiful...

wednesday::black::(and the results)

                      ::a moment of heaven for a little girl::

I went to show my pottery last night at the college. And I'm in. I'll be able to come in at the workshop level and just do my own thing without having to take more courses. I got the studio grand tour, registered and one of the other workshoppers gave me some clay to get started with. Saturday I'm heading to Baltimore Clay Works (please, Dan?) for clay and some supplies. Today I'm dragging the girls to a kitchen store for some odd tools I use for buttons but can't seem to find since our move. I can't wait to get back in to the pottery studio....thanks for all your encouragement...

tuesday::brown::(and a tryout)

a bad picture. but still...it's an endangered species. have you ever held an endangered species in the palm of your hand? a first for me.
the bog turtle. found in the valley this weekend by an amazing uncle--a walking natural historian.

more color week

i'm off to the local community college in an hour to visit with a professor and show him my pottery work. i'm trying to get accepted into their workshop program so that i can do my pottery on my own, using their studio supplies and kilns--without having to take all the college-credit courses. i feel that I have a lot of the knowledge from my other art center courses and just need the chance to try things and work things out for myself. but i'm not sure my  courses from wisconsin are high enough caliber to 'get in' at the college. it's very nerve-wracking taking your work to someone to inspect, interpret and decide  your skill level based upon it. i love my work so far, but I know I have a lot to learn and a lot that I want to try. I just need the chance to get my hands dirty and try new things. The attitude at the college is much different than my arts center. At the art center they were so encouraging of trying new things, seeing what worked, failing, exploring. My instructor there was just happy to see you creating and working and being curious. Here it feels a bit like an audition, but I'm sure if I 'get in' it will all go smoothly from there. I hope he doesn't think I'm some housewife home-potter. Well, I guess I am technically, but I'm not just there for a little fun on Friday nights. I really want to pursue this and try new colors and patterns, objects and techniques.
wish me luck. if this doesn't work out, I may be back in the kiln-buying business. or else making a monthly trek to my aunt's studio for firing.
(yuck. sorry for the lazy typing above...)

::monday:white::(and more)

A door from the steppingstone farm museum where we went for the scottish festival this weekend. It was an odd mix of men in kilts and teenagers in gothic dress. The highlight being the scenery as the farm is perched atop of a hill overlooking hills rolling into the susquehanna river; and the potters shed--a small stone building full of kick-wheels and an old brick kiln.

A visit from my sister and some thundershowers prompted an afternoon of crafting: two long-promised turtles and some cuffs so everyone was included in the crafting goodness. I can't stop making these cuffs. They are so much fun. A second batch is waiting for buttons and then will probably going into my etsy shop.

Self Portrait Tuesday 1.17--Family History

This is a photograph of my grandparents farm in Maryland. It is a place filled with unlimited memories from childhood until today. This home was once filled with fifteen children, but now it sits quietly covering the head of only one, my grandmother. It still gets is grand share of visitors--family, friends, neighbors...
I really can't begin to write about all the memories that I have here. They are so dear to my heart and such a part of me...this house has seen so much, and still holds reminders of its busier years....

I used to love staying here when I was little...making the two hour trip in our orange volkswagon bus, remembering that when we passed the fairgrounds we were half-way there, sleeping in a bedroom tucked away upstairs with my older sister, in beds with canopies and bright blue and green floral wallpaper. I used to love to look at the books on the shelves and giggle at the yearbooks from days gone by. Squeaky staircases and worn floors, deep window sills and walls of photographs.
The ring of the bell every day at noon, calling anyone who cared to join, for lunch. Soup on the stove that tasted so good, homemade croutons and a plate filled a few different cheeses.  If I looked close enough I could see remnants of dinner's leftovers floating in the bottom of my mug.
Two long, dark-grained wooden tables with sets of benches in a dining room of sorts. A wall-sized map of the world that was useful for many a conversation. Canaries flittering in a cage by the window.
Rooms and halls overflowing with antiques and pictures and family and history, rich with history and stories untold.
Summer sunday dinners when any family in the valley gathered the farm. Tables covered in faded cloths, coolers of lemonade and ice tea, salads and hot dogs. An after dinner game of knockout or a round of softball in the Jersey field. And the faintest memories of instruments being picked up and plucked and strummed, lulling those present into the cool of night, basses and banjos, guitars and sweet voices.

My memories of this place could go on but for now this is all I'll share. I love this place, the feel of this place. I want my home to feel like this--comfortable, well-lived in, well-loved, with evidence of life and family and history seeping from the walls and windows, the photographs and furniture.

I try to take little memories of this place and bring them into my home--making soup on the weekends, and remember my new dining room table? Sometimes I walk in to my kitchen and it strikes me--"it smells like Meemu's kitchen." And I love it and breathe it in and wonder what's on my stove that's capturing this fragrance--a swirling of scents--bacon and tomatoes, chocolate chips cookies and grapefruit.
I planted two boxwood bushes outside my front steps. Each time I walk by and catch their smell, I'm reminded of a place that I love. That's why I planted them.
I love going back to visit. Even though it's a little quieter now, and the sheep barn is now just a shed and there aren't calves in the stalls or a jersey cow that needs to be milked or a giant crab painted on the bottom of the swimming pool or a crowded kitchen at dinnertime, I still love this place. I love what it was that I didn't see and what it was that I did. And I anxiously wait to see what it will be...what memories will be made here for me, as an adult, and for my children.
It is hard to be so far away but that's the beauty of a picture or a memory or a smell, or a handed-down trunk or a scraggly bush in my front yard--each bringing me back to a place that I hold dear.

*more spt here*