Self Portrait with Baby Boy

Self portrait with baby boy.

I’ve seen so many beautiful self portraits of women photographers on Flickr and Instagram over the past couple of weeks, and I’ve felt very inspired by the vulnerability and expression shared through these little windows.

Thank you to couragous women, near and far, who inspire with your dedication to your families, your work, and your creative lives.

January Homeschool Life

A New Year’s Day hike at Gousty.
This home I so love.
Covered in a blanket of white.

Sitting deep in thought.
Writing at dusk.
Thick snow falling.

Sweet girl.
I pushed her too hard on cross-county skis.
She is nursing a strained tendon.
I must remember to take it slow.
They grow and they become so capable, but still, we must take it slow.

We’re traveling to Italy in our studies this week. Our table is covered with books about Leonardo da Vinci; Jeffrey’s beautiful sketch book from Rome; maps large and small from Florence and Rome to Sienna and Pienza; a beautiful picture book about the island of Sardinia; and amazing images of Italian buildings and works of art. And, well, then I just had to bring out some of those old love letters from Jeffrey’s year abroad 17 years ago!

If you can’t go there in real time . . . play you can!

The sweetest sleep of baby dreams.

Sister’s new old skateboard!

Busy man, up at the sink. Making a flood.

Oh, I love this.
She painting a portrait of herself from a photo I took of her, almost a year ago.

“I’ve never painted myself before,” she said.

And then she took artist liberties to change the way she looks.

Let’s go inside the greenhouse and take off our coats and reach our faces up towards the precious January sunshine!

We have a family of opossums living in a brush pile near our chicken coop. First we saw one. Then two. And then the girls discovered . . . a mama and three babies! They have been making the rounds, gathering compost scraps, chicken food, and birdseed.

Is it time to get a dog???

Little Pillows

The girls found an old tattered and torn pillow case in the linen closet, cut it up, and transformed it into a dozen doll pillows.

I have been the recipient of a series of unkind words this week, and this little pile of pillows seems to be the reminder I need today. Be gentle. Remember the power we wield with our words.

Now if only I can learn from my girls’ creativity and turn a torn relationship into a beautiful connection again . . .