A few sunkiss'd days.

75 degrees in January

a few days of unexpected warmth, respite from winter cold

 socks removed, jeans rolled high above the ankles

Jason Mraz Pandora station

chicken salad, fresh fruit, avocado, sparkling water

lush grass for burying toes

playing peek-a-boo

sticky baby hands discovering crackly leaves

 drooly baby mouth biting mama's nose

finding treasures

blowing bubbles

golden glow as the day becomes long

priceless family

friends who feel like family

thankful life.

A home for all seasons.

Here is my home sweet home in Madison, New Jersey, dressed in winter white.  Dad laments that it's T-H-R-E-E degrees there now {the clock at the bank downtown said so}, snow is packed tight, lawns piled high, driveways frozen over.  They're expecting another big storm on Tuesday and likely won't see a tip of grass until spring. 

I do love this little cottage home where I no longer abide but still consider "mine."  It's beautiful in all seasons.  How I miss the azaleas blooming in spring, the deep vibrant green of summer, the kaleidoscoped landscape of fall, and yes, even the blustery winter when the starkness and lack of color expresses its own kind of beauty.

Inspiration Book.

I'd like to introduce you to my Inspiration Book. 

It's simply a binder filled with carefully-torn magazine pages slipped into plastic sleeves for safe-keeping - images that conjure up certain feelings in me.  I've been adding to the book here and there for several years now.  Just recently, in our effort to get rid of clutter 'round the house, I sifted through all our magazines - past issues galore of Coastal Living, Everyday with Rachael Ray, Country Living, and Real Simple to name a few - and tore out the bits and pieces I wanted to save. 

Why? Oh, just to be inspired.  Just to admire design and nature, to let my own creativity be sparked anew. It could be a tiny portion of a single photo that I love, or an entire page, like a leaf-scattered street scene in a small New England town, or an autumn tree ablaze...

A deserted wooden dock on a lake with two empty chairs, or a cozy outdoor fireplace...

A perfectly rustic bedroom and kitchen that I could re-create on my own {much smaller} dime...

Other times it's the written copy on the page that catches my eye... 

The page above reads,

"A loon's cry breaks the silence of an early-morning walk along the shore.  A sprinkler throws off long, lazy curls of water that glow in the honey-colored light of late afternoon.  Screened porches serve as boxed seats for showy thunderstorms that rumble and blaze above the lake.  The clothes may have changed, but the pastimes are perennial."

It's wonderful to be inspired.  This book is far from perfect - page edges are torn and small photos are taped to the page quickly, edges overlapping.  It's just like art, though, "Art is the desire of a man to express himself, to record the reactions of his personality to the world he lives in." ~ Amy Lowell.  The goal of my Inspiration Book is not to make me pine away for another life that looks glossy on a magazine page.  Rather, I hope it inspires me to savor my own life more.  To see the art and beauty that is all around me, everywhere I look.

New every morning.

"Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness."

~ Lamentations 3:22-23

This Scripture has become my verse, my theme during this new stage in life.  I am learning to really appreciate, and yes, even treasure early mornings.  We now arise at 6:15am.  No need for an alarm clock, because a little "clock" named Luci Isabelle is already wriggling eagerly, ready to start the day.

Never before have I so depended upon this promise: "His mercies are new every morning."  A fresh surge of energy, creativity, strength is just what I need every day, to be a good wife, to be a good mom. And somehow, it is always given. 

The next few verses in Lamentations say, "The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD."  As I rocked my daughter this morning in her room, I waited quietly and peacefully as the walls transformed from dark grey to golden, the sun rising before my eyes. And now, the entire house is infused with morning light.  If I had been asleep, I would have missed this.  This is all good.  Very good.

Here are a few glimpses of morning peeking through our home.  How about you?  How do you celebrate your morning?

Homemade pasta night.

"Nothing would be more tiresome than eating and drinking

if God had not made them a pleasure as well as a necessity." ~ Voltaire

Paul and Brooke, Tommy and Linda, Moi, and half of Steven's head

Warm home on a chilly night.  Homemade sauce bubbling on the stove.  Fresh doughy pasta made of only two ingredients a la Jamie Oliver: organic unbleached flour, and farm eggs with bright orange yolks.  A knock on the door and another friend arrives, just off a plane from Nashville, yearning for an evening of community; the rest of us eager to feed her a good, hearty meal.  Silly photos are taken.  Chipped plates that I've had since college are piled with hot saucy ribbons and sprinkled with parmasan cheese. 

This, here, is the "simple life" - a rustic farm table with mismatched uneven chairs, hearty homecooked food, clinking glasses full of spicy red wine, and friends with which to share it all. 

By now, the scents of home cooking - freshly-ground coffee, pungent garlic, earthly herbs - are infused into our house's walls, walls that have held together countless parties and impromptu gatherings.  And homemade pasta night was another one to add to the repertoire, a wonderful start to the new year, and perhaps a new tradition.