Berry Memories

 So, medical stuff hit first and then the back to school tsunami pulled us under for a bit,  and we are just starting to gasp for air. 

 

Summer's end seemed to take us by surprise this year.  So, I am reflecting, and wishing just a bit that we could go back and snag some of the freedoms of the season.  . 

 

 The sweetness of hide and seek and picnicking under the trees calls back to me with its memory. 

 Two new pickers joined the tradition this year.  We can't claim that they are effective at it. 

One tended to drop her bucket,

 and the other carried a bucket, yet dropped picked berries into his cheeks instead. 

Thankfully, the patch veterans carried us, knowing that sweet baking of treats was to follow if buckets were full. 

 One of us might have become a little obsessive,  picking just...one...more again and again,

which gave us the happy ending of several batches of baked berry bar goodness. 

Kir-plink, kir-plank, kir-plunk

Camp Crazy 2014

As I broke out in a sweat packing up toothpaste, coolers, tubs, wipes, hot dogs, bags, water bottles and the kitchen sink for our first family of six camping trip, a stinking suspicion crept into my mind.  Could it be that I was teetering on crazy for planning to sleep in a tent for two nights with four littles six and under? 

Call me crazy, but it was big, fat, sweaty, sticky, exhausting fun. 

Be assured that there were meltdowns, that many band-aids were applied, and that the kids were grumpy sometimes too. 

 

  

 

But it is hard not give yourself over to toasty marshmallows, mugs of hot chocolate, Mason jars filled with caught frogs, glow sticks and sunshine filtered through a hundred trees.

 As soon as our mini pulls into the gravel driveway, we all change into campers for the weekend.  Even our two new littles embraced the tent and state park bathroom life. 

 Crocks, tanks, friends, water colors, snacks and suits are all that is needed to load this memory with perfection.   

 Camp Crazy 2014 was all that we hoped it would be, and then a bonus was given. 

Julie, Nathan and kids arrived for a campfire picnic and some canoeing. 

Dusk canoe dates were the dessert of the weekend!

 Of course the littles had fun too, scoring their first canoe ride!
(Sorry Mark-o the canoe master for posting an eyes closed pic.   Love that goofy grin though!)

 The beauty in all this canoe fun is that Nathan hand carved both of these works of craftsman art. 

Our cars might have been parked by our tents, and we had to go home 2x for kid care, but it felt as though we'd stepped away from our world for the weekend. We slowed down, made art, had some adventures, noticed the stars, treated ourselves to some incredible camp meals, and disconnected in order to connect. 

 

 

Our hope is that 2014 has a few more tent nights in store.  

Idle and Blessed

Some days it needs to be just us, Saturday-ing down a nearby trail. 

 Just sisters, a brother, a dad and a mom, distraction free. 

 With every step into the woods, some grumpiness falls away and some peace seeps in.   

 Alone, but together, rest is found. 

Rocks splash into water and we measure the success of our day in muddiness. 

 Leaves that become boats teach science lessons about currents.   

And the littlest among us is just a kid with her toes dipped in the water, happy to spend the day with those with which she feels the safest.

By the time we hike out, we have another memory added to our collection, connecting us deeper still. 

 

I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?

~Mary Oliver

Root Growth

 

But time has gradually inscribed on my heart that winter, with all its surface bleakness,  

is for the vegetative world a time of intense creativity.   

While barren to the human eye,

trees in winter experience their greatest root growth. 

Their life force reached out, plunged deep

roots into the sustaining soil.

So it is with us as well.

~Wendy Wright

 

Something assures me that God is being intensely creative with our family too. 

 Calling us to look deeply and love well.  

 

With our faith plunging deep, teaching us to be sustained even in our weakness.

 

Showing us what fragility looks like and how much its presence changes us.

 

What journeying together really requires.  

Each learning to hold the hand of another, giving up the desire to follow our own plans.

 

Pushing us to keep walking on an ever unknown, ever winding path. 

 Gradually  releasing the pull of the comfortable life.  

More awake, magnifying the power of a single moment 



and calling us to linger within it together.

Seeing the beauty of His plan unfolded, and how to be intentional with the gifts given us.

 

Feeling the cold and hard, but also released by the beauty emerging from it.

Hard things have their many hidden rewards.  

So, we release our family again and again,



drinking deeply from this wild and precious life. 

Tenting

There's just nothing like it.  Give us a free fall weekend, and we prefer to be camping. 

With food thrown into coolers, camping stove packed and sleeping bags rolled and ready, we love to head to the mountains. 



There's always rock climbing, bug collecting and lake wading,  

along with some tent-side creativity. 

 The distraction-less family time can not be matched. 

 
When dusk hits, the bags of marshmallows are broken up, ready to get toasty over the fire.

And in the AM, we warm up some cocoa and do some lounging while a breakfast feast is prepared. 

With bellies full, we go in search of just the right spot.  Each time with find some hidden magical place to do some lingering.

We've got it down.  Learned how best to make memories. 

And each time is special. 

 

Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves.  ~John Muir