We’ve gathered around for our annual Calendula Salve making this afternoon!
This year we’re making lip balm with petals we’ve been soaking in olive oil since the end of the summer. The magic of summer sunshine preserved as golden goodness pulls us all into the kitchen. Each year the girls do more and more on their own. I find myself mostly watching and soaking up the wonder of this messy, rich process.
“I salute you!
There is nothing I can give you which you have not; but there is much, that, while I cannot give, you can take.
No heaven can come to us unless our hearts find rest in it today.
No peace lies in the future, which is not hidden in this present instant.
The gloom of the world is but a shadow; behind it, yet, within our reach, is joy.
And so, at this Christmas time, I greet you, with the prayer that for you, now and forever, the day breaks and the shadows flee away.”
— Fra Giovanni, AD 1513 (Take Joy! The Tasha Tudor Christmas Book)
Busy boys playing Busytown with big girls.
Thank you, Mr. Turkey, for giving your life for us.
For nourishing our family.
Centerpiece for the mouse family Thanksgiving feast tomorrow.
Happy Thanksgiving, Tout le Monde!
Toddler baby boy, surrounded by so many loving sister hands.
The sun today
brings us outside
into the garden
to plant bulbs
and dream —
just for a moment,
Rilke’s famous words to his 19-year old protege in 1903:
“I want to beg you, as much as I can, dear sir, to be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”
“That Quail, Robert”
A lovely, messy nest that Amie pulled out of a poplar tree
le gland = acorn
les cynorhodons = rosehips
Still sleeping after 8 in the morning.
Lips moving — sleep nursing.
When he is asleep
he still looks like our baby.
He has many things to say while she combs his hair.