What I’m into – October 2015

Every month I compose this post in my head and today I’m finally hitting publish to join the lovely Leigh Kramer (a little late) discussing what October held. Hold on to your hats.

  • First things first – my newest obsession is Monica Potter Home. Obviously I was instantly in love because it’s Kristina Braverman, people. As in the best show of all time. And my favorite Braverman (though that’s such a hard decision! Crosby! Julia! Sarah!) But beyond the obviousness of that, it’s brilliant. Her blog has so many fabulous recipes for homemade beauty products (and good food, too) – I’ve made up the winter lip scrub, makeup remover wipes, pumpkin mask, dry shampoo, and my absolute favorite, the eye gel. I’m not entirely certain that I won’t start using this as my moisturizer this winter… It feels and smells amazing. All to say, I have a humongous girl crush on Mrs Potter… and a lot of mason jars in my bathroom.
  • The capsule wardrobe. I know I’m late to this party, but it’s a game changer. Express has these amazing black pants – comfortable, non-lint collecting, flattering, washable – I found them on sale at our local outlet store and promptly bought them up. Now 99% of the time you’ll find me in those wonderful black pants – usually with a black top. I decided to let my accessories, hair and makeup be the color and life to my wardrobe and I have to tell you – I love it! Super easy mornings, I always look smart, and black is slimming & camouflages everything. Plus the hubs can no longer complain about my scarf obsession because I don’t buy clothes otherwise. Now I can guilt-free buy All. The. Scarves.
  • The Great British Baking Show. Have you seen this, loves? It’s a reality tv competition on PBS where they bake decadent, gorgeous things in a beautifully appointed tent in the middle of the English countryside – sheep bleating in the background, breeze rustling the trees. It’s idyllic… And it’s British, so no drama save a quiet tear here and there when a bake goes off badly. They all like each other and are sweet and kind. It’s understated, lovely, and my family is so insanely sad  it was over this Sunday (congrats Frances!). The first season to air in the US (last year) is on Netflix, so have at, friends! You won’t be disappointed. ***note: this will be tortuous to watch if you have no treats. Hit the bakery up before settling in or you will be forced to eat whatever you can find in the recesses of your pantry, which will be wholly unsatisfying. Ask me how I know.
  • For the Love. This book made me laugh, cry and cook – which is about all I could ever desire a book do. Jen Hatmaker is a force, friends – follow her on Instagram, watch her TV show, and read this book. The chapter on fashion was one of the best things I’ve read in a long time (I believe there was shouting of “Amen!”) and alongside the humor she expresses such relentless love for – and from – God. Beautiful. Here’s a taste of Jen…   Also – the beef borgignon recipe in the book is earth-shatteringly good. I may have licked my bowl.
  • Out of Sorts. I am a huge fan of the reckless abandon Sarah Bessey loves with, and her gorgeous poeti11986586_10156005382515464_153999937820776217_nc writing always gets me. This book is like a great big permission slip to be who and where you are in your faith, and it blessed my heart and soul fully. Favorite quote – “I hope we all live like we are loved.” Boom.
  • Podcasts. Yet another game I am late to, but I’m thoroughly enjoying listening as I knit (these!) lately… I’m hooked on the Sorta Awesome show (which has entirely renovated my makeup routine, besides giving me good food for thought and lots of giggles), and On Being… I’m sure that’s only the tip of the iceberg but mama’s only got so much time.

I hope you all are off ot a lovely start of your November… and if you have any good discoveries for me, please share!

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>The stomach flu. That’s what this is that I’m wrestling… and I’m telling you, it ain’t pretty. I am now fabulously motivated to keep our bathroom floor spic and span because oh, how nice a cool floor feels against a hot cheek when you’re resting… and it would feel nicer if I remembered when I last mopped it.

And in those moments of rest, I’ve been struck by how like labor this is. That sensation of the body taking over, telling the mind how things are going to be. Or maybe simply showing how things are. There’s such a feeling of utter helplessness; there is no control in my hands. The only choice I have, in these situations, is how much I’m going to let it hurt. I can either relax, breathe into it, ride the contraction, and let it be – or I can tense, fight it, and hurt SO MUCH MORE.

So for tonight I’m trying to ride it, let my body expunge the offensive things from within. And I’m wondering – how much is this a metaphor for life? Am I preaching to myself here, about the firing? Relax into it, ride it out. Don’t fight it. Let it be. It will hurt less if you breathe into it.

*** tomorrow there will be an anonymous guest poster here – and my anonymous post will be on someone else’s blog. I’ll post a list for you of all the blogs participating, if you want to see what we all post when we know no one will know it was us. It could be some fun reading!!

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>from the land of upset tummies…

>Following finslippy‘s lead, here I go:

  • There is no reason to run 26.2 miles. We’re the head of the food chain, people – we’re not supposed to have to run like that.
  • Bed is the happiest place ever.
  • All things pumpkin are fabulous – they should be trotted out much more often than just in the autumn. This is why they CAN it.
  • Don’t save your fine china for special occasions. Use it all the time.
  • Fresh flowers need no excuse to be bought.
  • Keep the bathroom clean; you never know when you’ll be praying to the porcelain god.
  • Dress up for nights out, church, funerals, the symphony… the world has gotten too casual. Besides, it’s fun to spruce up once in a while.

Forgive these thoughtless posts… our family has some sort of bug that’s got all our tumbles a’rumbling. I don’t want to cheat on NaBloPoMo, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

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>Confessions

>

  1. I hate political ads. I would like to introduce a law that states they may only run a certain number of times per day, and that they must be about the candidate who sponsors them, not their opponent. Or maybe I’d just outlaw them altogether. But to do this, I would probably have to have TV ads. Damn it.
  2. There is a sweet little spot behind Olive’s ear where the hair is just unbearably soft, and I kiss it about a zillion times a day.
  3. I have resorted to sniffing my daughter’s derriere on occasion to determine whether she needs a diaper change. I swore I would never do this.
  4. There is a basketful of clean towels awaiting my attention in the bedroom. They’ve been there three days, and I’m not holding out particular hope for them tomorrow. I have, however, emptied the towels to get to the folded clothes underneath, but then I just put the towels back in.
  5. I delivered Olive two months ago and I am still not fully healed or recovered. I did some online research and was mortified to learn that it takes some women over a year to fully return to normal functioning status. This made me cry.
  6. I have spent the entirety of those two months with Olive (save perhaps two hours of store runs while Jeff has watched her) and it’s not enough. Olive as a permanent fixture on my left shoulder, nuzzling her soft little head under my chin and resting her tiny tush on my left forearm would be a perfectly amenable option for me. I’d just need some heavy duty lower back support, like people who work for UPS wear.
  7. Autumn gives me this nearly undeterrable urge to buy school supplies like notebooks, pencils and pens. It’s taking about all I’ve got to withstand it.
  8. Staying up this late to blog brings back childhood memories of staying up and reading under my bedcovers by flashlight long after bedtime. It’s delicious, but carries a certain amount of guilt. And if anyone tells me I should be sleeping because she is, I’ll smack them.
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