A Simple 4th

Why were women from previous generations less stressed and more able to afford...

I'm going to stop you right there.

 Gather round... Welcome to one of my soap boxes.

There are multiple layers to the mystery of how our mothers and grandmothers had it "easier" than we do. But one element of it just may be that the Hobby Lobby culture didn't exist.

Or maybe I should call it the Hobby Lobby pressure. You know, the pressure for every birthday, every holiday, every season to be over the top and "extra," as the kids say.

I shouldn't blame HL.

It's just easy to see it there.

I stopped in the other day to pick up paper plates and napkins for our 4th of July gathering, and... well, you've seen it, too. Multiple aisles of holiday themed, Made in China junk that nobody needs to have a good time. 

Glance around the mall... 

Bath and Body Works: 4th of July hand soaps, Old Navy: American flag T-shirts, Every other store: gaudy USA earrings and headbands, holiday towels... etc, etc...

Meanwhile, somewhere in our memories are holiday gatherings that looked like this:

This is not my family and not my photo. I found it on the Internet. But I love the vibe! Simple, homey, and uncontrived, this gathering was all about food and fellowship. 

Inspired, I showed this picture to Micah, and he and the boys put together a long makeshift table from saw horses and slabs of plywood from the workshop.

As I was pulling white bed sheets from the linen closet to use as coverings, Nola asked why I wouldn't buy proper tablecloths.

"Because this is free. It's also good enough!" I answered her.

The girls gathered wildflowers from the woods behind our house, and I placed them in old mason jars that I've had in my kitchen cupboard for years. 

I love all the beautiful, patriotic flower arrangements for sale in my grocery store right now, but I guess I was just in the mood to keep things "down home" and simple.

Sometimes the commercialized world seems fun, and I do admit I partake from time to time. But it's not needed to have a nice holiday. 

So, we are keeping things simple for our gathering tonight. 

Guests will bring their own lawn chairs to add to our table, and Micah will fire up the grill for the steaks he's been marinading since Thursday night. S'mores will be enjoyed alongside good conversation, and I'm sure children will be running barefoot in the grass. 

Yes, simple is the vision... until dark. Then we get to see just how many fireworks Micah purchased for America's 250th birthday. A milestone he claimed deserved a large-scale display. Oh well... so much for my vision.

I'll step off my soap box now...

~ Courtney 

My Garden of Obligation

 There's a lady on the internet who talks about how much she hates gardening, but thought she'd love it. So since her husband built raised beds for her, she's obligated every year to plant it. My algorithm must have known I needed to see that, because I too have a Garden of Obligation. It's a tiny, fenced-in square just steps from my side door. Micah built it for me several summers ago because I was convinced I'd love a Kitchen Garden, as I called it. 

A place to clip herbs for the soup simmering on the stovetop...

And to pluck cherry tomatoes in the warm afternoon sun for a dinner salad.

Sounds idyllic.

And it was... for maybe two summers, then I got sick of it.

Getting sweaty, dirty and stung by bees and scratched up by stinging nettle got old in a hurry.

(Never mind that I've lived in the country for the past seventeen years. I grew up in the city. And don't you know you can take the girl outta the city, but you can't take the city outta the girl!)

Seeing cucumbers at my grocery store for 79 cents and strawberries for two dollars a pint only added to my disdain.

Why am I doing this?... I would ask myself, as I held up one singular good strawberry from the three bushes I planted. 

So last year I gave it up. I was fully determined to abandon my little kitchen garden again this year, too. But Obligation won, and that funny internet lady taught me you don't have to love it or be good at it. Just plant it anyway.

I'm lucky in that mine is small. 

But it was pitifully neglected...

I began by yanking out weeds, clipping back those roses, and painting the fence a bright new coat of white.

But having barely scratched the surface with the paint job, grey clouds rolled in and thunder could be heard rumbling in the distance. I better stop... Sure enough, two days of steady rain delayed my progress. I was happy for the break. Sitting on my heels to paint had caused my hip to flare up - an annoying malady I typically combat with equal parts ibuprofen and prayer.

I did manage to plant two tomatoes in between rainy spells...

One afternoon I found myself on my hands and knees tilling away when I heard a sharp squeak. I had unearthed a nest of baby bunnies! I had no idea they were there. It startled me. I didn't know what to do, so I just kept working around them, being careful not to bonk their little heads with my tools. When Micah came home that evening I told him about the bunnies. Everybody knows bunnies do not belong in vegetable gardens, so he advised me not to watch, and he would "take care" of them for me.

I haven't seen a bunny in my garden since.

A few seed packets were purchased for the making of this garden. I awoke very early one morning in the hopes of beating the rain. I wanted to plant a lettuce packet. I have done lettuce in this garden before, and it works out great! So I was confident about this one, until I flipped it over to read the instructions...

Plant as early as you can in the spring or in very late summer.

"Well, it's June," I notified the seeds. "That means it's not early spring or late summer..." I continued as I sprinkled the packet into my freshly tilled row. "Good luck in there you guys!"

I grabbed my rotary tool and began work on the next row, but one of the steel prongs snapped off! This was right after I uncovered an old red peppers tag buried in the dirt. Like an archeological dig that reveals past failures, I was painfully reminded that I planted red peppers once, yet somehow harvested zero peppers.

I hate this, I muttered to myself. Why do I do it?

This garden bears no fruit and brings no joy, yet I always feel obligated to plant it. 

I am heading out now to resume the painting of the fence. A fresh, clean, beautiful fence may be this garden's only redeeming factor...

Wish me luck.

🌱

~ Courtney 

Random Happenings and Musings

When nothing of any great moment has occurred to propel me into Blogland, I tend to let too much time lapse between entries. But then I remember, this is a blog on home-living. This is the great moment...

So with that, this entry is a sampling of random happenings around here...

 We've been savoring the peaceful days of summer.

If we're home in the mornings, we enjoy a quick worship time together. 

I wish we could sing as a family every day, but we seem to only manage it a few times per week. With busy teenagers, and one who works, I suppose I should be grateful for whatever I can get!

I remember a pastor saying years ago that Christians sing. Not just musicians, not just the talented ones... but all Christians have a duty before the Lord to sing. I've never forgotten that. And sure enough, if you read through the Psalms, you'd be hard pressed to find a chapter that doesn't mention singing! 

"I will sing to the Lord all my life; I will sing praise to my God as long as I live." Psalm 104:33

🌷

We recently enjoyed a historic house tour.

Free and open to the public, this beautiful mansion from the mid-1800s is in a small town close by. 

We learned that the home was once a private residence, but is now an art museum.

The architectural details inside were stunning!

I've attempted through the years to teach my children about beauty. What is it? How do you know it when you see it? Why does it matter?

Though my attempts may have been feeble, I've noticed that asking thought-provoking questions like, How does beauty play a role in the Christian life? can lead to the most interesting conversations. 

Children are capable of pondering profound things.

Art has aided people for centuries in their pondering of the profound, so why not enter into that conversation from time to time?

I think it's fun!

We enjoyed a picnic lunch by the water when our tour was over.

On the drive home we popped into an antique shop to look around.

I picked up this history book for $3.00

I've been on a kick with books like this lately: 100 year-old, American public school "readers," and I'm learning so much! (My homeschool brain really never shuts off, even in summer. My antennas are always up, looking for suitable material.)

A book or two like this one, perhaps alongside an autobiography of a historical person, would make for an impactful history lesson at any age. As tickled as I am over homeschooling taking off and becoming popular, I am thankful I began before the commercialization of it. 

What it's become today would have overwhelmed me when I was a young mother. Now I have enough sense to ignore most of it.

When I began I never attended a homeschool conference or set up a replica of a classroom in my home. There were no podcasts or weekly newsletters from "experts." I tend to be of the opinion that if a child has good books, self-drive, and a committed mother, there's no reason they can't be successful.

🌸

We walked through beautiful gardens close to the mansion we toured. 

The weather lately's been incredible!

💐

~ Courtney 

Books for Enjoyment

 "No great wisdom can be reached without sacrifice." -C.S. Lewis

I did my very best to track with Roman's curriculum this year. (By the time a homeschooled student reaches high school, they are so independent with their studies, it's easy to sit back and let them fly.)

Sorting through some of our school things this morning revealed that I had filled entire notebooks with my own notes and thoughts from reading and studying Roman's Chemistry, Music Theory, American History, and Philosophy text books. 

I was homeschooled this year, too! Haha...

I kept the text books and my notebook always out and handy, so any spare minute that I could find, I would sit down and study. 

I tried to read for my own enjoyment throughout the school year as well, but only managed a few novels and biographies. Now that it's summer, I have more time to read whatever I desire.

I tend to have more than one book going at a time. I find I'm a moody reader. I like having options for different times of day and types of weather.

For example, I started Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte back when we were having those violent storms in early spring. To be curled up in bed late at night with thunder shaking my bed and rain pelting my windows made this story, with its own erratic weather and cantankerous characters, that much more impactful. 

I keep it by my side of the bed, ready and waiting for the next wild storm. (Because who wants to read any Bronte book on a bright, warm day? Doesn't seem to fit the vibe, does it?)

For those sunnier days, I've been enjoying, Them Before Us, by Katy Faust. Micah and I were at a gala recently where the keynote speaker of the evening was the author of this book. Her message was captivating! We left with a signed copy that night, and I began reading it as soon as we were in the car heading for home.

"If we are serious about ensuring that our nation's children are safe and loved, adult desire must be sacrificed on the altar of children's rights and not the other way around." -Katy Faust

This book is SO good! 

But when all the statistics and charts start to feel weighty, I switch over to this antique book that was given to me by a friend.

The Story of the Old Spanish Missions of the Southwest has been a very interesting read. I guess I never considered before that the Pacific Coast would have been discovered and settled in just the same way the Pilgrims and early Colonists settled along the East Coast. 

But instead of Englishmen, it was Spanish Priests, commissioned by the King of Spain, to covert Indians to the Catholic faith.

The Priests of the first mission, which they established in the San Diego area, worked for two years before baptizing their first Indian convert. As inspiring as their steadfastness is to me, this seems to pale in comparison to the true story of a brutal Indian attack this poor mission endured. 

Father Serra was away in Monterey when the attack occurred. A band of hostile Indians, bent on murder, set the mission ablaze in the middle of the night, killing the Fray and a few others whom the mission was left to the care of.

"The news reached Father Serra at Monterey. It was expected that he would be greatly discouraged at such an awful event. But his faith rose triumphant as he exclaimed, 'God be praised for the blessing of a martyr. Now that the ground is watered with such blood, gentilism can no longer hold out.'"

In today's world of boundaries and self-care, it sure puts us modern-day Christians to shame, doesn't it.

He went on to establish twenty-one missions from San Diego all the way up to San Francisco, constructing multiple tabernacles and baptizing hundreds of Indians, all while missing his home country of Spain.

I really just picked this cute book up for enjoyment, but it's reminding me that the Christian life is one of sacrifice and service.

This is why I read.

🌸

~ Courtney 

Day of Recovery

 

I feel as though I may have bit off more than I could chew this school year. 

Yesterday was our official last day, and I woke up this morning with such a sense of relief and accomplishment.

Even though most days I could barely keep my head above water, (homeschooling high schoolers is not for the faint of heart!) I experienced a stretching and a growth this school year that I am quite thankful for.

(Homeschooling is just as much for the mother as it is for children. Don't attempt it and not expect to be completely changed.)

I promised the kids they could sleep in this morning, as a reward for a diligent year.

As I sat reading and soaking up the quiet, slow morning, the first child emerged around 8:00, with two others trickling down between 9 and 9:30. It is now 10:00am, with the fourth still in bed.

A leisurely morning can be so good for the soul.

As I have shared on this blog before, I had the unique opportunity to tutor a small class of high school juniors, with Roman being part of my class. I can relate to Jesus's mother who famously said she "treasured these things in her heart." I was warmly welcomed into these teenagers' world, and even though I was supposed to be teaching them, they taught me so much more! The experience will long be etched upon my heart. 

Nevertheless, it came with many challenges. 

So we are marking off today as our Day of Recovery.

I feel free as a bird....

I took a slow meander around the yard pondering what I want to do today.

I could pull weeds, sort through our school books, run to Costco...

The world is my oyster.

🌷

~ Courtney 

Back Home From Miami

 We've arrived safely home from our beach vacation in Miami, Florida.

(Micah with our four growing children...)

Did you know that leaving North East Wisconsin at 8:00am and driving straight through the night gets you to Miami by around mid-morning the next day? It sure was a long haul, (48 hours round trip!) but worth it to enjoy several days of salty waves and sunshine. 

We rented a small house a block away from the beach. The interiors were painted bright white, and the floors throughout were a white and light grey tile that resembled cold marble. With blinds on every window to keep out the heat, it all worked together to produce a very cool effect.

(The view from the upstairs balcony.)

We found a grocery store close by the first evening we were there and purchased some essentials. Eating most meals "at home" helped to save a lot of money for our family of six. 

I gave each of my children a travel journal at the beginning of the trip. It was fun to watch them jot down interesting tidbits that were unique to them.

Things we saw, places we went... they scribbled away here and there as the week went on...

The culture in Miami, I observed, was mostly deeply tanned retired couples, sipping Margaritas, lounging in beach chairs for hours. Those who were young were big into fitness. The boardwalk between our house and the water was constantly filled with runners, and the shoreline filled with Yoga practitioners... everyone just trying to live their best Miami life. It's always so fun to people-watch, isn't it? And aside from a few sketchy looking beach bums, who mainly kept to themselves, I wondered, who is local here? It all had a very laid-back, Spring Break vibe. 

We set up our little spot in the sand and settled ourselves in...

Over the course of our stay, our beach neighbors consisted of a French-speaking couple, a young Spanish-speaking family, and group of friends with strong Boston accents. But it took walking past a cluster of young German-speaking men for it to dawn on me how Miami attracts visitors from all over the world. 

Even us fair-complected Northerners...

On Sunday, we drove the 20-something minutes to Ft. Lauderdale to attend Sunday School and service at First Baptist Church.

It was a large and beautiful church, with an extremely welcoming congregation. One after one, they approached us to shake hands and offer a warm hello. We even received advice from a lady, originally from the gulf side, informing us that the Tampa/Clearwater area has better, more beautiful beaches than Ft. Lauderdale. I nodded, then whispered to Micah afterward, "Maybe next year?"

 They made us feel at home. 

It was a joy to worship there and learn from their teachers and pastor. I love when I'm reminded that God keeps a remnant of His people in all places. 

As fun and exciting as it was to visit a new place and soak up the heat and humidity, it feels even better to be back at home. 

I must admit, we got a little sick of feeling slightly tender from sunburn, and constantly gritty from sand.

Not to mention, did you know these roam freely in the wild?....

(Don't worry, we were safe inside our vehicle.) 

Ahh... yes, home sweet home.

🐊🌴🐚

~ Courtney 

Daily Life in Winter

I enjoyed a beautiful breakfast on this wintery morning as my children slept late.

I didn't know we were supposed to get snow today. It's the soft, fluffy kind that flutters down slowly, and watching it from my windows makes me feel like I live inside a snow globe.

I'm grateful to finally be up out of the sub-zero temps.

Cash and I went for several walks on our trails over the weekend. 

It was just the two of us. My children were away at a church camp, and Micah went along to help chaperone. 

I decided I wouldn't grocery shop and just make do with what I had. Jacques Pepin calls this type of cooking Fridge Soup. I love the concept. Just check your pantry and fridge for whatever little morsels remain and see what you can come up with. 

This is what I made for myself:

We were already low on supplies going into the weekend, but I think that's what made the challenge fun. I had one old potato and a can of pinto beans in my pantry. In the fridge I found a carrot, a tiny sliver of onion, and a Tupperware of leftover chicken from when Roman had made himself quesadillas earlier in the week. A few other random little veggies were also used up. It's a great way to clean out your fridge and make sure nothing goes to waste.

I cooked this all up in a skillet using butter, olive oil, and Italian seasonings. It was hearty and delicious, and I was able to get three meals from this. Amazing how food stretches when there's only one person in the house. 

Now that the family's back home, we are spending the day resting and washing up camp laundry. I can't believe how wiped out they are. It's a mellow day here for sure, and a few have expressed their vexation with winter.

It has seemed extra brutal this year for some reason.

 There's an activity I've done with my kids here and there through the years that seems to help. When the weather becomes a burden, I will go through our books for scenes and poems that relate to the weather we're experiencing. 

Our old picture story books have a way of romanticizing any season.

Whether it's rainy illustrations for a rainy day, or snowy illustrations for a day like today, I select a sampling from our bookshelves, spread them out, and instruct the kids to fill their minds with the uplifting images and words. 

Beauty has a way of inspiring.

Even though my kids are getting older, I find this restful activity can benefit any one of any age. I enjoy viewing the colorful, wintery pages myself, so why wouldn't my kids? 

I might ask a few questions like, "Have you ever seen ice hang on tree branches like this?" or, "Should we try this recipe for winter tea and scones?" and suddenly the harsh winter doesn't seem so burdensome.

But that doesn't mean we're not wishing for an early spring!

💐

~ Courtney