words for your weekend

 

“From the standpoint of daily life, however, there is one thing we do know: that we are here for the sake of each other - above all for those upon whose smile and well-being our own happiness depends, and also for the countless unknown souls with whose fate we are connected by a bond of sympathy. Many times a day I realize how much my own outer and inner life is built upon the labors of my fellow men, both living and dead, and how earnestly I must exert myself in order to give in return as much as I have received.”
-Albert Einstein

Hello, you! Any big plans for the weekend ahead? Brian and I are sneaking down to Zion National Park for a few days of hiking, sleeping, and really, really good fish tacos. I'd be lying if I didn't admit I'm the most excited for the hours of uninterrupted sleep. :) Catch you soon, okay? XO

a part of me, apart from me

You come to me in the early morning hours. When darkness and quiet gather over my sleeping children and the only sound in this stilled house is the door as it clicks gently closed behind Brian on his way to work, you come. I sigh, stretching my sleep-warmed feet out from under my quilt into the new September air pouring  through the open window. The skies are dark. The neighbor's sprinklers start. I take a deep breath. I let you in.

You come to me in dreams, in music, in memories, but it is your smell that always comes first; a red currant candle in the winter and pine soap on your bathroom sink. Flashes of rosemary and mint as you distractedly twist your long, dark hair into a neat bun. Buttery pie crusts, apple cider, pastry cream with a splash of orange extract, and black flecks of vanilla bean stirred into soft-white peaks of whipping cream. Olive oil, as you spread your hands across my growing belly, searching for that tiny, quick heartbeat. Clean sheets, sweet smelling pillowcases, and Mrs. Meyers dish soap in your light filled kitchen.

You come to me in the places we loved together. Saturday morning farmer's markets and the homes of new, proud mothers. Countless bakeries and small cafes and bookshops. Downtown Salt Lake City on summer nights. Your pretty little office with the Anthropologie drawer-pulls and glass jars filled with raspberry tea. You perched on that tiny stool and me with my legs tucked under my skirt talking late into the afternoon and early evening. I see you in Southern California for Tess' wedding. When I step out of the car your eyes narrow as you look at my swollen feet, "Pregnant feet. How much water did you drink, Rachel? No, tell me how many ounces, I need to know. Did you pack salty snacks like I told you to? How often did you stop to pee and walk around? How many times did you pee today, Rachel?"  And finally, your front yard, warm with a new spring, and you surrounded by the women and mothers who love you for honoring them and celebrating the important work that they and their bodies do. I kiss you on the cheek and hug you tight, my hands full of plates of food for Brian and the kids and Eloise books for Sela. I tell you I'll call you soon to plan our birthday lunch, "Only a few more weeks!" you remind me. Your dark eyes find mine again, so solemn this time. I hug you again, thanking you for the beautiful party and sweet gifts. I cross the street to my car, looking back to see you tenderly folding a new baby into your arms with laughter on your face. As I start the car, I glance across the street once more and say to my friend, "That felt so much like good-bye."

You come to me in hundreds of different ways during those quiet moments. So many memories waiting to be unpacked, unfolded, and carefully brought to the light. But a few mornings ago, one sweet memory came to me so clearly: It was wintertime and we are both curled up on your big blue sofa with a six-month-old baby Graham sleeping between us, his belly softly rising and falling with contented breath. As I watch you trace your finger over his fuzzy, round head, I ask, "Bri, what is your favorite part of your job?" You are quiet as you stoke Graham's cheek, and when your finger brushes close to his mouth and he starts to quietly suckle we both smile. "I think my favorite part is watching the journey and transformation of the woman," you carefully and thoughtfully answer, your fingers wrapping around Graham's chubby fist. "No matter how a woman feels at the beginning of her pregnancy, whether she is excited, overwhelmed, anxious, or devastated, if she is willing to surrender to the processes of pregnancy, labor, and birth, she will become the kind of mother her baby needs her to be and the kind of woman that she needs to be to feel confident and comfortable in her new role. Being able to watch that journey, that process unfold is the very best part of my job."

So here I am, Bri, a few months into my own difficult, unexpected journey. A journey that began with me throwing a positive pregnancy test against my bathroom wall and spending an entire day in my bed cursing God for the vulnerability of woman's body and the quiet, never-ending, ever-changing cycles of our bodies and our lives. "Is there ever a point where a woman's body is her own?" I screamed into my pillow until my throat was raw. I curled my knees into my chest and pulled the blanket over my head and for the very first time realized what losing you really, truly meant.

words for your weekend

I can't feel you anymore, I can't even touch the books you've read
Every time I crawl past your door, I been wishin' I was somebody else instead
Down the highway, down the tracks, down the road to ecstasy 
I followed you beneath the stars, hounded by your memory
And all your ragin' glory


You'll never know the hurt I suffered nor the pain I rise above
And I'll never know the same about you, your holiness or your kind of love
And that makes me feel so sorry


Idiot wind, blowing through the buttons of our coats
Blowing through the letters that we wrote
Idiot wind, blowing through the dust upon our shelves
We're idiots, babe
It's a wonder we can even feed ourselves


-Bob Dylan, "Idiot Wind" from Blood on the Tracks (1975)


No one writes heartbreak and longing better than Mr. Zimmerman. I've had this album on repeat for the past few days, and I'm sure it will continue through the warm weekend ahead.

Happy Friday, you. Hope your weekend is a sweet one. XO

P.S. I'm also loving this "Buckets of Rain" cover.

move, eat, learn

LEARN from Rick Mereki on Vimeo.


"3 guys, 44 days, 11 countries, 18 flights, 38,000 miles, an exploding volcano, 2 cameras, and almost a terabyte of footage...all to turn 3 ambitious linear concepts based on movement, learning, and food into 3 beautiful and hopefully compelling films. "


This series of sweet videos made my morning. I love when creative people make such beautiful things. You can find the other two videos here; I think they'll make you want to shake things up a bit (and maybe regret the leftover grilled cheese sandwich crusts you ate for lunch!).

words for your weekend

 

"Meeting a woman anywhere teaches you more about the world than reading Balzac. Whether it be a wife, a woman encountered by happenstance, or a prostitute, she will teach you about the world. In fact, I build my life on meeting women and I have hardly read a book since primary school. I think that all the attractions in life are implied in women."

- Nobuyoshi Araki

Happy weekend, darlings. I hope it's a good one. XO

Photo Credit: Fa by Obragruesa.

a special birthday quilt

For Graham's birthday I made him a letter quilt, similar to the one I made for Sela a few years back. It's still a little weird for me to talk about quilting here, as I've always considered it to be such an old lady hobby. But maybe the time has come to finally embrace my inner granny and confess that one of my best friends is 85 years old, I get positively giddy over licorice allsorts, I'm in bed by 9:30 pm, and I spend most of my day wearing some variation of a muumuu and talking to old dudes about composting.

Hot, right?

Don't worry, I also know all of the words to Nicki Minaj's Super Bass and have spent an obscene amount of time following all the Laguna peeps from The Hills to The City, but so far I've managed to dodge the Audrina bullet. Don't even get me started on the whole (highly emotional) summer I dedicated to watching Teen Mom, or that I sometimes say hella cool - but only in my head. Promise.

I think I may have just realized why it's so difficult to find friends in my age bracket. Ugh.

This is really getting away from me, isn't it?

Quilting?  Right. I love it. I love the whole process of sorting through fabric scraps, piecing, and the hours of handwork. I think my favorite parts of Graham's quilt are the sweet prints I used from my grandma's stash, the extra pieces I added on the inside to make the quilt a bit wider (I didn't do this with Sela's and it is just a bit too narrow now that she's older), and that I paid my neighbor to machine quilt it for me. I love the look of hand quilting, but the thought of sitting under a quilt for 30+ hours in July just seemed insane. Quilting is more a wintertime activity for me, I think.

Graham loves it, and spends a lot of time making little boy forts and hiding out from dinosaurs and pirates. He likes having Sela point out his name and all of the G's, and it has proved to be an excellent road for all of his cars.

Here is the back of the quilt, including the letter:

You can see Sela's quilt here, and it has all of the info for ordering through Spoonflower. Also, I originally found the idea for the letter quilt on Sarah's blog, The Small Object.

graham is two

Graham turned two a few weeks ago, and we had such a great time celebrating with our family and friends. We met at a neighborhood park with tall shady trees, long grass, and a sweet river that runs right through. It was a fun little party with a table full of all Graham's favorites: Chocolate cake with meringue mushrooms (which I made while thinking of Miss Tess and her baby belly), Dunford donuts, buckets of various woodland/bear themed gummies and snacks, plenty of fruit, excellent cheese, and root beer floats. It was a beautiful evening full of all the people we love most chatting on picnic blankets, chasing after sweaty kids, and laughing late into the night.

Oh, what can I tell you about Graham?  He's hilarious and sweet, and always has the best jokes, even if they are usually full of naughty words. He spends most of his time running around our backyard completely naked, playing in the hose and stomping through the sprinklers. He is currently trying to learn how to play his guitar behind his head and balance a spoon on his nose. He loves to sing, dance, and tell ridiculous stories about snakes, spiders, and dinosaurs eating him all up.

He loves big hugs and even bigger kisses, cuddling ALL NIGHT LONG, and whispering funny (and soggy!) secrets in my ear. He's gentle, curious, and easy to please.

He's baby Graham, and he's magic.

The recipe for the yummy mushrooms is found here, and these genius invites by Anna Bond would have perfectly complimented our party theme had they arrived in time. Confusing text messages and hurried emails work well in a pinch though, right?

words for your weekend

  

“Often a man wishes to be alone and a girl wishes to be alone too and if they love each other they are jealous of that in each other, but I can truly say we never felt that. We could feel alone when we were together, alone against the others … But we were never lonely and never afraid when we were together. I know that the night is not the same as the day: that all things are different, that the things of the night cannot be explained in the day, because they do not then exist, and the night can be a dreadful time for lonely people once their loneliness has started. But with Catherine there was almost no difference in the night except that it was an even better time.”

-Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell To Arms 

I'm going to spend my weekend hunting down and rereading my copy of A Moveable Feast in honor of Mr. Hemingway's birthday. I love reading about the "Lost Generation" of writers and artists (Fitzgerald and Eliot, in particular) and all of their adventures in Paris during the 20s.

Hope your weekend is wonderful, friends! XO

summertime in the city

We're soaking up our fair share of sunshine around here. Plenty of picnics, bathing suits, dear friends, and evenings spent exploring our favorite parks.

I really love Salt Lake City in the summertime.

words for your weekend

The Tallest Man On Earth has been on repeat at our house for weeks; it just sounds and feels like summer to me.

Happy July weekend to you! Hope it's full of sunshine, great food, and the people you love. We're busy trying to pull together a little birthday party for baby Graham. He turns two on Sunday, TWO! I'm so excited. Catch you next week! XO

writing sheds and cabin dreams

I recently stumbled upon this interesting article about famous writers' small writing sheds and backyard cottages. The one pictured above is Roald Dahl's writing hut, the Gipsy House (the yellow door!). I've always been fascinated by the objects creative people choose to surround themselves with in their most intimate spaces: loose papers tacked to walls, photos of family members, plenty of light, magazine cuttings, comfortable chairs, and bits of nature tucked here and there.

I thought Dahl was fantastically particular about his surroundings:

"The whole of the inside was organised as a place for writing: so the old wing-back chair had part of the back burrowed out to make it more comfortable; he had a sleeping bag that he put his legs in when it was cold and a footstool to rest them on; he had a very characteristic Roald arrangement for a writing table with a bar across the arms of the chair and a cardboard tube that altered the angle of the board on which he wrote. As he didn't want to move from his chair everything was within reach. He wrote on yellow legal paper with his favourite kind of pencils; he started off with a handful of them ready sharpened..." - from The Guardian

 

I think my favorite is Dylan Thomas' "wordsplashed hut", which was actually a boat house located on a cliff in Laugharne. The walls were covered in lists of rhyming words and alliterations, and magazine clippings of Walt Whitman, W.H. Auden, and William Blake.

I think I'm particularly drawn to these spaces because all I want to do this summer is find a little cabin in the woods somewhere and hide out for a few weeks (or months, if we could swing it). I just want to wander around in the woods for a while, go fishing, swim in a lake, maybe write a bit, and definitely read late into the night. It just sounds nice to get away, hang out together, and be as far away from Wonder Pets and the Fart Piano app (ugh. i can't tell you how much I dislike both of these things, or how much my kids love them) as humanly possible.

What about you? Any big plans or dreams for the summer? Maybe a spare cabin I can borrow for all of August? Yes?

celebratory waffles

Do you want the recipe for the best waffles ever (as long as you remember to start them the night before)?

Okay, here you go:

3/4 teaspoon yeast
3 cups flour
1 1/2 tablespoons sugar
3/4 teaspoon salt
3 cups milk
12 tablespoons butter (worth it, promise!)
3/4 teaspoon vanilla
3 eggs, separated

Before going to bed, combine dry ingredients in a large bowl. Stir in milk, butter, and vanilla. Cover with plastic wrap and set aside overnight.

In the morning, separate the eggs and stir the yolks into the batter. Beat the whites until they hold soft peaks, and then fold gently into the batter. Pour into a hot waffle maker until brown and crispy. Enjoy with maple syrup.

These waffles are super delicious on the first day, but even better if you freeze the leftovers and toast them throughout the week.

Do you want to know the most thrilling part about these waffles? I recently found an old Toastmaster waffle iron at a yard sale, and it's exactly like the one your grandma had when you were little: really heavy, makes 4 waffles at a time, gets unbelievably hot, and is completely encased in metal. It's like our own personal Cornballer.

This is exactly what every birthday, Father's Day, and Christmas morning sounds like:



HA! I really love Arrested Development.

Photo Credit: Seven Spoons

words for your weekend

"Be fit for more than the thing you are now doing. Let everyone know that you have a reserve in yourself; that you have more power than you are now using. If you are not too large for the place you occupy, you are too small for it."

-James A. Garfield

Hello, Friday! I'm so happy the weekend is finally here. We are doing a bit of backyard camping tonight, spending time in our garden tomorrow (We have peas! I ate one this morning and it was delicious.), and I'll most likely spend Sunday brainstorming and planning for an exciting new project. I'm still a little too scared to say it out loud, but if i do manage to pull it off it will be awesome. Or it may just deplete my savings account and be a major waste of time and resources - it can go either way at this point! Hope you have a great weekend. XO
 

Photo via Cup of Jo

going west

I am a woman born of the West; a Robert Redford kind of girl, if that means anything to you. As a product of pioneers driven by visions, men who wandered deserts at dawn, and unlucky miners and the women who followed them, I understand the visceral language of red rock, mountain ranges, and coastal highways. I seek comfort in space and distance, healing in the wild places of the West.

-An excerpt from my notebook written as we drove across the vast Salt Flats.

Brian and I were able to slip away for a week at the beginning of June to celebrate our anniversary and to catch a bit of rest and healing. We decided on California's central coast: Carmel, Big Sur, and a day trip in San Fransisco.

Carmel is beautiful, walkable, and quiet. We spent days just wandering around the charming neighborhoods, holding hands and talking about what we hoped our future would hold (Brian: registering a personal Scottish coat of arms and an office/library space of his very own. Me: becoming a lady farmer midwife chef who writes about women and travels the world). We spent our evenings searching tide pools and people watching, and then would eventually end up at Dametra Cafe, tucked into a cozy, dark corner surrounded by Italian families and Brazilian women. The food was beautiful, and the owners are warm, generous people. There was a lot of kissing and general all-over touching at the end of each meal, which I loved and Brian tried to politely avoid. What can I say? That boy just doesn't appreciate a good rub down by strange dudes with long, curly hair. I, on the other hand love watching him squirm and always enjoy a good hug and smooch from gorgeous strangers.

We spent a lot of  time wandering in and out of shops and art galleries, gathering gifts for the children and admiring the unique architecture of this coastal town. We rode the trolley, enjoyed picnics in the park, and took afternoon naps. It was just so good to be together, to laugh and joke and love each other.

My favorite part of our trip was Big Sur. It has this crazy, dark energy that I've only ever felt in the sleepy fishing villages of Mexico. It is a place for visionaries and poets. It is a place of deep emotion and contradiction:

ancient redwoods. cacti. rivers. ferns. soft beaches. cliffs. hidden canyons. 

It is the perfect balance of dark and light, of beauty and brutality. It was here that I found healing.

words for your weekend

“I’m not telling you to make the world better, because I don’t think that progress is necessarily part of the package, I’m just telling you to live in it. Not just to endure it, not just to suffer it, not just to pass through it, but to live in it. To look at it. To try to get the picture. To live recklessly. To take chances. To make your own work and take pride in it. To seize the moment. And if you ask me why you should bother to do that, I could tell you that the grave’s a fine and private place, but none I think do there embrace. Nor do they sing there, or write, or argue, or see the tidal bore on the Amazon, or touch their children. And that’s what there is to do and get it while you can and good luck at it.”

-Joan Didion

Hello, you! Have any plans for the warm weekend ahead? I'm busy working on a few Father's Day surprises (and pretending that I didn't just realize that it is, in fact, this Sunday. eeps.), and spending some time in the sun with my babes - we'll probably squeeze in a few snow cone runs too. XO


Photo Credit : Jackie Luo
Quote Via: Marvelous Kiddo

summer is good for me

face paint. cherries. swimming suits. strawberry summer cake. fishing. sprinklers. garden roses. big plans. breakfast on the porch. muddy feet. road trip. little brown faces. snow cones. farmer's market picnic. talking things out. bird watching. a special birth party for a special mama-to-be. playing in the hose. endless questions about the habits of fairies. a visit to the sea. fresh herbs on everything. a weekend with the cousins. water guns. chasing kitties. new books and ideas. sweaty bouquets of wildflowers from quick little hands. long walks. garden planted and (miraculously!) growing.

movement. light. warmth. healing.


Photo Credit : SignePling

words for your weekend

"Sometimes a kind of glory lights up the mind of a man. It happens to nearly everyone. You can feel it growing or preparing like a fuse burning toward dynamite. It is a feeling in the stomach, a delight of the nerves, of the forearms. The skin tastes the air, and every deep-drawn breath is sweet. Its beginning has the pleasure of a great stretching yawn; it flashes in the brain and the whole world glows outside your eyes. A man may have lived all of his life in the gray, and the land and trees of him dark and somber. The events, even the important ones, may have trooped by faceless and pale. And then - the glory - so that a cricket song sweetens his years, the smell of the earth rises chanting to his nose, and dappling light under a tree blesses his eyes. Then a man pours outward, a torrent of him, and yet he is not diminished. And I guess a man's importance in the world can be measured by the quality and number of his glories. It is a lonely thing but it relates us to the world. It is the mother of all creativeness, and it sets each man separate from all other men."

-John Steinbeck, East of Eden

Sorry of the lack of posts around here, friends. I'm still feeling a little quiet in my heart and everything is just a little bit hazy.

Grief is hard a thing.

In other news, I'm reading East of Eden again and loved this passage so much I had to share it with you today. I also gifted myself Tina Fey's Bossypants for my birthday earlier this week and I can't put it down. So, so funny. Happy weekending to you! I hope you can catch a bit of sunshine and fun! XO


Photo Credit: Weiferd Watts

words for your weekend

Happy Friday, friends! Hope your weekend is full of warm sunshine, good friends, and even better food. :) I'll see you around next week! XO

Quote spotted on Abbey Goes Design Scouting, but originally from Miss Vu.

the gentlewoman

" The Gentlewoman is a new biannual style magazine for a new decade. Featuring inspirational, international women, it pairs ambitious journalism with a sartorial and intelligent perspective on fashion that is focused on personal style - the way women actually look, think and dress."

-The Gentlewoman Magazine


How refreshing, right? Especially since the only publications readily available to women in our country are back to back articles on organizational tips, sex tricks, and 30 minute dinners. Women may grace the covers of most magazines, but only if their hair is curled, their neckline low, and their arms and thighs retouched.

I love that The Gentlewoman recognizes and showcases the individual and diverse strengths of women, and allows them to own (and totally rock) their power - not just their physical assets. Having Adele on the cover and the fashion profile for the Spring/Summer issue is perfect, especially considering Adele's views regarding women in the media:


"I love food and hate exercise. I don't have time to work out...I don't want to be on the cover of Playboy or Vogue. I want to be on the cover of Rolling Stone or Q. I'm not a trend-setter...I'm a singer...I'd rather weigh a ton and make an amazing album then look like Nicole Richie and do a shit album. My aim in life is never to be skinny."


Can you imagine a Hearst Corporations, Conde Nast, or even a Martha Stewart publication featuring an artist who is too busy being awesome to care about the current standard of female beauty?

I would love to get my hands of a copy of this issue, the article on Fatima Bhutto, the Pakistani poet and writer, looks really fascinating and beautifully put together:

 

Quote taken from The Gentlewoman's website. Photos by Alasdair McLellan and Chris Miller.

sela's envelopes

I was looking through some photos last night getting ready for a new project, and I came across these photos and realized I never shared them when I did the big rainbow party post. I think this is my favorite detail of Sela's birthday party, and I'm so glad I took a picture before addressing the envelopes and sending them out. I want to always remember Sela's sweet, wonky lettering and the true inspiration behind the whole party theme - her funny little rainbow drawings that fill all of her artwork these days.

the new general store

Tricia Foley's pop-up general stores are so brilliant. I love the whole concept. It would be so fun to put together something like this late in the summer; maybe at our community garden? I could make and sell big linen market totes, fresh veggies and herb bouquets, and some lemon curd and jam.

It would be great to invite local beekeepers, a favorite cafe or bakery, and have a fresh rosemary lemonade stand and homemade ice cream sandwiches. Hmmm....looks like I may have a summer project!

Photos from The New General Store. Please go check out Tricia's website, it's full of gorgeous photos of  past events, info on upcoming events, and even her online shop! First spotted on Chelsea's Frolic!

stand with power and move with love

My friend, Vanessa, shared this beautiful, powerful article earlier today, and I felt it was incredibly fitting for this Mother's Day weekend. The focus isn't necessarily on mothers or motherhood, but about celebrating each other as individual women - which is truly what Mother's Day should be about, right?

"...I realized that the best shot we have of women all over the globe coming into their own health may lie with the whole-hearted celebration of the women around us. If we are to get our loving arms across the land, we must first embrace ourselves and our daughters from a place of education and celebration. The potential for global women’s health rises exponentially if we raise girls who know and understand their own womanhood. Girls who embrace their most basic biology and their highest spiritual selves from a holistic perspective. Girls who are so familiar with womanhood that they will recognize it wherever they travel, regardless of the packaging. Girls who create healthy and meaningful friendships and partnerships with the men in their lives. These are girls who will grow to create a world where all women will have the luxury of celebrating each other."

Encouraging and supporting each other in the many facets of womanhood, and leaving a powerful legacy for the women of tomorrow is what I'll be celebrating this weekend. So, if I happen to bump into you (maybe at The Beehive Bazaar?), don't mind my goofy grin and the big kiss I'm going to plant on your cheek; I'm just glad to know you and have you in my life!

Happy image found on Pinterest, and quote taken from Jodilyn Owen's essay, A Song, a Baby, the Congo, and a Meeting.

words for your weekend

Briana's Words, Briana's Wisdom from Kate and Neil on Vimeo.

I'm posting this beautiful video of my dear friend Briana today for purely selfish reasons. I love hearing her voice, seeing her smile, and remembering our shared conversations that were so very similar to the ones captured in this video. Hearing her laugh has brought healing to my heart during this long, soul stretching week, and I know I'll be returning to this video again and again just to see my friend's face and to hear her wise words.

Thank you, Kate and Neil, for your inspired work, and for creating and sharing such a wonderful gift with everyone who knows and loves Bri.

sorrow and sweetness

The errand of angels is given to women;

And this is a gift that, as sisters, we claim;

To do whatsoever is gentle and human,

To cheer and to bless in humanity's name.

My dear friend and cherished midwife, Briana Blackwelder, died in a car accident on Saturday afternoon. My heart is broken as I reflect on a world without her generous, beautiful spirit. Her influence reaches almost every aspect of my day to day life; her blessed hands were the first to touch my children as we welcomed them into this world, she taught me how to breastfeed and how to make caramels, and as I sit in my living room this morning, I can see her laughing on my couch as we ate German pastries just a few short weeks ago.

Briana's passing has brought waves of grief and pain, but I've also felt  immeasurable joy and sweetness as I read and hear stories of how her life is woven into the most personal and sacred experiences of the lives of her friends, clients, and family. Her life and her life's work was dedicated to healing, supporting, and empowering women, and I truly believe that she will continue doing this beautiful work where she is now.

There will be a celebration service held in her honor on Wednesday at 7 pm at 951 East 100 South in Salt Lake City and on her birthday, May 6, in California.

The treasured photo is from Sela's birth, taken by my mom. Beautiful words from the hymn, As Sisters in Zion, written by Emily H. Woodmansee.

words for your weekend + happy earth day

"This is what you shall do: love the earth and sun and animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing  known or unknown, or to any man or number of men; go freely with the powerful uneducated persons and with the young and the mothers of families: read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life: re-examine all you have been told at school or church, or in any books, and dismiss whatever insults your soul; and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body."

-Walt Whitman, from the preface of Leaves of Grass


Happy Earth Day, you! Do you have any big plans for today? Seeing how I spent a good portion of yesterday trying to explain to Sela what exactly the earth is ("Mom, that's a globe! It's not in space, it's on my shelf. Look, I'll just show you where Phillippines is..."), I think it's important that our family does a little something to show some love for our "globe."  I'm hoping to plant some peas, carrots, and potatoes in my little corner of the community garden, but I'm worried it's still too muddy out. Maybe we'll just have to make awesome flower crowns instead!

If you're looking for some Earth Day ideas, my yoga teacher + friend,  Corena, shared this cool article earlier this week, and I thought it was full of great tips and a lot of useful information.

Oh, and Happy Easter, too! XOXO

Photo Credit : Eric Lafforgue