return of the light

the dining room in winter light.  the art is jupiter and her moons, which i painted this january.

oh hello there.  i came over to get a recipe and realized that i have positively abandoned this little blog space.  it's been over six months since i've posted.  there is nothing earth-shattering or deep to write about, but i feel a wee update is in order:

• we are nearly one week past imbolc, the return of the light, that halfway point between winter and spring solstice.  i dreaded the coming of winter.  i believed it to be a primary source of my panic and anxiety last year.  with some minor hiccups, i've made it through this far without any issues other than some mild insomnia.  i'm still practicing most of of the nutrition and wellness routines i established last spring.  as we move toward march and the anniversary of my panic, i take one day and night at a time and remember the light will come.

• i am devouring garden catalogs and have placed a huge conifer order that will arrive from the pacific northwest in march.  this year we are focusing on carving out another large piece of lawn and converting it to garden.  we will also tackle the shady sloped side yard that has so much potential but has been very neglected for a decade.  gardening saves me.  and while i want to be present in february, i can't help but daydream of june:

magic garden, june 2018

• this weekend is cold (but partly sunny, so i'll celebrate it).  we will spend some time tending to the inside of our home with regular housekeeping and finishing some bigger, not-so-exciting  projects like replacing the baseboards.  this house has loved me through thick and thin and i plan to return that love through tiny gestures of care.

i hope you are well and safe and loved and can feel the light on your face, wherever you are.

saving me right now

greenhouse ranunculus.

rose tea.

hydrangeas and poetry.

easter egg radishes.

the wintry forest.

the romping simon.

the frolicking luca.

these jasmine and their promise of spring.

using all the colours.

winterlove {№1}

so instead of going into hibernation mode (read:  an unconscious seasonal stupor) this winter, i'm going to try to stay present and really appreciate the gifts of this much-maligned time of year.

up until tuesday, this has pretty much been a breeze.  the weather has been unusually sunny and almost warm.  i went barefoot outside on new year's eve.  my neighbors are still peddling bikes around our little downtown.  i've worn a coat three times. 

i want to indulge in winter's traditional sensory pleasures:  fires, hot soups, wooly socks, writing love notes on windows with my finger, snowball fights.  i want to get outside and see it and touch it and smell it.

i want to take full advantage of the spiritual jobs of winter:  resting, reflecting, observing, planning, healing.  

i want to embrace the winterness of it all.

ninety days

until may day.  that's a long time.

i'm dreaming of backyard parties, fireflies, sundresses, blackberries, picnics and the softness of new grass under my bare feet.

i don't know what's got into me this year, but i'm really struggling with winter.  there doesn't seem to be a break in the cold, hard brown-ness of it all.  i must get myself in a better place in this space called now.  i must start loving winter every day she shows herself.

here is what i love about winter today:  indoor craftiness.  (true, craftiness can be had any day of the year, but it flows more naturally when the sunshine isn't calling my name.)

i'm stockpiling more good things about winter to get me through the next few months:

• grilled cheese sandwiches
• slippers
• chai tea lattes
• heated car seats
• seeing my breath
• crystal clear night skies
• fingerless gloves
• going to bed at 8:30pm
• dreaming about summer
• hot and sour soup
• vacation planning
• cashmere socks
• january clearance sales
• vicks vapo-rub
• no lawn mowing
• nesting

what do you love about winter?

sunshine is a state of mind

the cold grey days of winter can bring about in me a yearning to retreat and cocoon. actually, that's putting it mildly. I have an alterego...a very introverted loner...who lives for the months of january and february. she likes to get all cozy and comfy and warm and spend time alone. funny, I've always associated her with sullenness and someone in need of one of those weird winter lights that make you happy. but she was here this weekend enjoying the bright sunshine and the mild weather and she was all shy smiles and quiet laughter as she delighted in sunsoaked summery colors that popped up everywhere she looked.




turns out she can get her summer on as well as the next guy. she was quite inspired. she sat in the sun and wrote and dreamed and wrote some more. her ability to remain quiet and still and listen astounds me. a subtle version of happy-go-lucky, that's her.

I rather like her.

{all of these summery photos were shot this past weekend, yes january weekend, in the beautiful sunshine state of virginia.}