8.31.13 : a small list.

making : messes, photos, poems with words just out of reach.
cooking : oatmeal with brown sugar, every morning, to usher in autumn. and because I like it.
drinking : cinnamon apple tea, cucumber lemonwater, coconut oil lattes, hot blueberry honey and lemon water.
reading : man's search for meaning, The Bible, and a menagerie of other books finding their place on the floor by my bed.
wanting : quiet, rest, to be seven again.
looking : for clarity. and my camera battery chargers.
playing : candy crush (yes), rivers roads and rails. piano, pounding the keys.
wasting : like usual, time.
sowing : contemplative stillness, intentional gratitude, purposeful being. large words that mean nothing and something at once. (perhaps)
wishing : to go back to the week of Woodland and live it again, every moment, same.
enjoying : taking walks, watching movies, being with my family. sudden rain storms. poems, even if they are deep waters.
waiting : for fall, tomorrow, what to come to manifest. also, my film camera.
liking : the wind, sudden rainstorms, music without words, prayer.
wondering : and wandering.
loving : my family.
hoping : with that kind of hope to excite us, nothing holds us back.
marveling : about the sweetness and beauty of apples from our own apple tree.
needing : a haircut, to go to bed before midnight.
smelling : cinnamon, wet earth, Moroccan oil, clean clothes.
wearing : cotton, light layers, old t-shirts from my mom's closet.
following : friend's journeys, too many instagram accounts.
noticing : the leaves curling and changing, echoing how seasons in our lives shift, fluctuate without our pause.
knowing : (and feeling:that if day has to become night. this is a beautiful way).
thinking : until my head hurts.
bookmarking : the true story of a seven year marriage, an interview with wendell berry, mother + daughter
opening : windows, closing doors.
giggling : over silly Star Trek graphics with my sister, Kevin from The Office, inside jokes that start with laughter and lead to tears.
feeling : worn and hopeful, sad and grateful. sustained. emptied of words.

list inspired by lovely jodi.

this summer, i will

(inspired by beautiful mollie and beautiful andrea)

i will go barefoot and run barefoot at least once

i will pick peas from the garden, ignoring the mosquitoes

i will watch movies with grace for the first time

i will intentionally play with the boys

i will play piano again and not care if it's badly

i will take more walks, evening, morning, daily

i will say a hearty yes to adventures, big and small

i will recognize grace everyday

i will watch the sunrise, watch the sunset, watch the skies

i will make more food, good food, and enjoy it

i will go to the farmer's market and let myself spend frivolously on produce

i will be free

i will eat more icecream

i will journal more and fill out one moleskine

i will listen to my gut

i will take up sketching again and not worry about being "bad"

i will drink more water

i will freckle

i will embrace spontaneity

i will shoot more photos and print more photos and do it for me

i will be unafraid to take chances

i will focus on being healthy, not skinny, and wear what i feel good in

i will s i m p l i f y

i will allow myself to spend lazy mornings dreaming about next year

i will go camping even if it's only in my backyard

i will roast s'mores even if it's only on the stove

i will go chilly swimming under the stars in the blackest of night

i will purposefully turn off screens

i will bike with chloe and grace to the library at least once

i will try five new things (starting now)

i will rest

i will go berry picking and come home stained red

i will focus on being true and brave

i will listen to and for stories and take time to be present

i will bake shortcake from scratch, whip the cream, and eat it with strawberries on the porch

i will

five spring inspirations + resolutions.

inspired by...
resolved to.
i. the fresh and clear, rich and earthy, sweet and peppery smell of spring.
breathe in this season. take walks, run in the morning, wake early to the sunrise. watch shadows stretch and lengthen with the sun, brew a long cup of tea, sit on the deck under light dappled by the first of buds and be still. have morning devotions on the porch and read a book on the front steps and pull a sweater tighter if you need to, but get outside. there's a whole world waiting and a new season unfolding and if you don't stop and look, you might miss it.

ii. the here and now before summer.
cultivate an explorer heart. go to museums. sit in coffee shops all day for the sake of people watching and order just one more latte or cappuccino or whatever it may be. make up stories and buy a cheap film camera solely for snapshots and go out to breakfast at mom and pop restaurants. buy concert tickets and go to the library and make lists. take your family on adventures that may just be a walk to the park. remember that small adventures are all part of the bigger story of your life.

iii. homemade, handmade, homegrown, from the heart.
make more. carry a sketchbook around for the purpose of seeing again in graphite and sketch at least a page, daily. pull out old watercolors and be okay with paint on your fingers. take up a new hobby and practice art and be okay with not being da vinci (no one is but him). read poetry and write your own, study the work of old masters, pluck out a tune on the piano. step away from the internet and give yourself room and breathing space to create by first being inspired by your own life.

iv. green food, whole food, clean living.
throw out Easter candy, stock up on produce, plan gardens. get in the dirt and pluck out the last of twenty twelve's weeds. make a meal plan and splurge one night on something extravagant and different, try new things. chew slower and try to pinpoint each flavor and drink more water. rest and move your body daily and eat good food. buy a different type of tea for each day of the week and spend time cooking meals that taste better because of the heart that went into them.

v. rich and true friendships.
write more letters. call your friend back immediately. write that email. take a friend to lunch or to coffee and spend an afternoon talking, even if it's only over a salad from Panera or a burrito from Chipotle (it matters). don't wait until it's your turn to speak but listen, really listen. put together a care package or a birthday gift or just get a small gift to say, "I'm so grateful for your friendship." plan summer adventures and Skype if you live far away and take time to invest in others lives as richly as they've invested in yours.

slipped in a few photos from the summer between wintry ones.
so strange to look in the backyard to see snow deep on the frostbitten earth, and think, in a few weeks,
there will be grass again.
slowly,
peeking up.
poking through the memory of last year's winter.
barrenness broken for spring.

it's a beautiful thought.

for now, I dream of summer days and nights under the stars and (yes) freckles again.
a few lists. (number twenty four to thirty four)

have a friday filled with wonder.
ti amo. h

the shape of this week.

rings of old tea in nearly empty mugs.
running under clear sky.
homemade food.

the color of this week.

grey skies and swatches of blue (a watercolor).
red floral fabric.
black and white keys and sandy paper cups of coffee.

the sound of this week.

film scores.
running water running feet running music.
first words of what summer could be.

what i love about march.

fresh air.
song in the air or the presence of birds.
buds and green and life springing out of this white world.
unthawing and growth.
a small week of rest (spring break).
going outside without a coat (shhh).
making iced drinks again.
beginnings of plans.
evening light growing longer (ahhhh).
walks in the brisk spring air.
newness of thought and the world like a poem.

silly and or simple things i'm good at.

making this sweet & sour chicken (that's naturally gluten free!)
reading doctor seuss' tongue twister story to the littles perfectly all the way through.
...or almost perfectly.
quoting movies and slipping words from books into everyday conversation.
spelling.
rocking mismatched socks.
drinking tea.
procrastinating.
cheat on your neighbor (dutch blitz played with real cards)

and on the flip side, things I'm not good at.

making up riddles on the spot.
puzzles (the on the table kind).
cooking macaroni.
going to bed early.
saying no to dessert.

i'm craving.

summersummersummer.
going barefoot again.
the cabin, the lake, an adventure to be had.
the absence of coats.
plane terminals and being caught between sky and land.
vegetables from the garden.

i can't get enough of.

roasted brussels sprouts with balsamic, topped with caramelized walnuts and feta.
tea.
film scores.
summer days and old photos.
dark chocolate covered acai berries.

always thankful for but even more so this week.

good friends
cinnamon dolce lattes
afternoons spent in song
fresh groceries and little boys to get groceries.
coincidentally, mini carts that the littles can push around.
the beauty of beginnings (small and large).
weddings, coming up.
plane tickets and trips already planned.
salted caramel chocolates from trader joes

words i love.

cobbled.
slipped.
dichotomy.
honesty.
swatch.
shiver.
film.
rad.
gut (specifically following yours).

winter lists on a thursday morning.

Lists are so dear to me partially because they're unique to the moment you wrote them. From grocery lists of avocado and bacon (sandwiches must be for lunch) from to-do-lists detailing the day (run in the morning, school in the afternoon, piece time together for coffee around three). Snapshots of the ephemeral minutes caught in loops of italics or squat letters. There's a coffee stain on that page, dried crumply, and the smudges of books I want to read leaked down the page. I pasted my movie ticket from staying up till three on that one above a scrawled to-do-list, written sloppily in the curves of no sleep. And like flowers in my hair, flipping pages in my journal back to June reveal smaller lists that smell like summer. Walk to Caribou. Run through the sprinkler and act like I'm seven, at least once. Make root beer floats. All accomplished.

The "here-now" of these lists tug my heart, and I see some crossed off, others standing bold and waiting to be done. Wintertime is very much different from summer, and similar pages covered with plans read much like a song. Make soup for dinner, wild rice and chicken. Bundle up before a walk, remember a scarf. Buy more chai, we're out. Shovel the driveway after it's finished snowing. If I was a poet I would write a piece but for now, I'll catch syllables between rhythms and round the rhymes into letters half between cursive and print that range from words between clean my room and buy a birthday gift for Chloe. And yet, there's pieces caught between the lines, like a fish darting through reeds. My line is cast and I sit quietly in a boat alongside my family, holding my pole tight and waiting to snag words. I'm a fisher woman of stories and stories in all forms, from photos to books to music to drawings to designs to the halfway letters of a list not finished. I collect the discarded grocery lists in the bottom of my purse, the leftover pages of a packing list for Texas crumpled in the back of my suitcase, a few hurried lines of to-do before dinner barely written before begun.

There's a beauty and grace to the change of seasons and the differences that come in our homes and hearts within them. Winter is for quiet and abundance of simple, friends and family gathered together. If we had a hearth, ours would be lit. I'm sucker to the romantic and pretty things but will not disregard the simple, because honesty is the best. Lists fifteen to twenty three, all before lunch.

things that catch my eye.
light
hands
quirks
wispy curls
steam and smoke and fog
reflections
dabs of color
continuity errors in movies
textures

books I'm reading.
Leavings by Wendell Berry.
Vivian Maier - Street Photographer
Journey of a World Changer by Banning Liebscher
The Book Thief by Markus Zusak(never not)
The Bible
Love Does by Bob Goff.

a (few) songs that I could hear over and over again.
This Love Won't Break Your Heart by Annalise Emerick.
Love you More by Misty Edwards.
Mile Marker by Amy Seeley
Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes.
Something in the Water by Brooke Fraser.
After the Storm by Mumford & Sons.
Yellow by Coldplay.
We Bought a Zoo by Jonsi.
100 Years by Five for Fighting.
Somewhere Only We Know by Keane.
Hallelujah by Rufus Wainwright.
Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men.

things I don't want to purchase (but need to anyways).
a haircut.
an external harddrive.
new shoes for this year's wedding season.
memory cards.
new jeans.

what I want to get better at this year.
going to bed early.
giving grace (always).
making my bed.
being intentional with my time.
eating healthier.
affirming.
creating art that matters.
baking gluten free.
punctuality.
self portraits.

some things I'm excited about.
weddings this year. (!!!)
traveling plans.
being healthy.
the weekend.
going shopping for food.
making banana "ice-cream" later today.
new projects.

names I like.
scout.
plum.
james.
aubrey.
birdy.
jovie.
walter.
bethy.
lauryn.
danny.

plans for the rest of the week.
take a walk.
go out for lunch &or coffee.
finish work before saturday.
make a cake for Chloe's birthday.
mail letters.
finish my moleskine.
get my inbox cleaned.
tidy my room & declutter & simplify.
have a chick-flick / movie night with chloe.

outside my window.
white Christmas lights dangling on the empty branches of our tree.
an acrylic sky painted blue.
snow on roofs.
a snowy yard crisscrossed with footprints from boots.
sunlight warm across the neighborhood.
a half finished snowman.
quiet.

what's on my heart lately + friday lists.

I'm out of words. There are days when I'm full of ideas and thoughts I want to articulate, and there are other days when I'm quiet. When I need to be still and need to process, to think things through, to mull over ideas and dreams. December is a month to plan, dream, and just be. I originally planned to take off the entire month (the joys of homeschooling!) but because of other events, I'm only taking the last two and a half weeks off. In the meantime, I'm busy with last minute assignments, designs due before Christmas, and photos to finish and send out. And so, I'm hurrying and rushing and trying to find time for good, simple things. Learning to be steadfast.

Yesterday, I played piano for two hours and baked cinnamon scones that tasted like Thanksgiving. There's a chance of snow this weekend that I'm wishing will turn into a full out storm because the ground is brown and all our lovely white stuff is melted away. My mom and sister and I are going to Costco today to shop for the family, and if we're lucky, we're picking up a tree on the way home.

Basically, life is busy and the weeks are long but the days are short. And I'm trying to soak up as much of the wonder of this season as possible. This includes cramming cookie making, tree decorating, snow fort creating, photo taking, piano playing, Christmas decorating, gift shopping / making / mailing, and family game / movie playing as possible. Not to mention ugly sweater wearing, Christmas carol listening and singing, and spending as much time with my family as possible. And of course, watching Elf at least three times. I just like to smile, smiling's my favorite!

A few lists (seven to fourteen) for the weekend. Have one filled with whimsy and wonder and joy, friends.

musicians I adore.
Jonsi / Sigur Ros
Amy Seeley
Regina Spektor
Norah Jones
Bon Iver
Ray Lamontagne
Ben Rector
Frank Sinatra / Dean Martin
Mumford and Sons
Jason Mraz
Feist
Iron and Wine
The Civil Wars
One Republic
Coldplay
Vince Guaraldi
Mozart
Of Monsters and Men
The Rend Collective

food I never tire of.
raspberries
homemade bread slathered with butter and fresh jam
my mom's rice pudding
pomegranates
chocolate
tea
oatmeal with brown sugar and a cup of black coffee

sights that make my heart sing.
the world covered in snow
downtown decorated come Christmas time
sunrises
the Woodland sign
my siblings faces after they receive a gift
our clatter of shoes in grandma and grandpa's entryway
trees covered thick in red orange leaves
hay bales scattered on a dusty gold field
blackbirds across a cloudy grey sky

things I collect.
Memories
Old Photos
Notes, ticket stubs, letters, trinkets
My Birthday pennies
Notebooks and journals
Books
Moments

things in my bag.
hair bindies + bobby pins
notes
my Bible
my journal and two to three small notebooks
four pens, at least one of them empty
rings
a couple dollars and a few quarters from my change at Starbucks
empty gum wrappers
a book, most likely wrinkled (probably The Book Thief)
my phone
half-used gift cards
letters waiting to be answered

a (few) things I want to do someday.
Live in Colorado
Cook through Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child
Backpack though Europe
Plant a big garden
Learn how to swing dance
Go without all media for a week
Visit the Louvre
Write a book, if just for myself
Fall in love, get married, and have a big family bustling with kiddos and laughter
Pay for a stranger’s groceries
Adventure

things I need.
grace
contacts
at least five hours of sleep
music
a haircut
a piano to play
my family
a camera in my hands and my journal at my side

a few reasons I love winter.
scarves and gloves
gatherings with friends
baking (especially cookies)
the smell of peppermint
fresh coffee
snow (snow snow snow)
Christmas music
long socks
quiet days
watching the sunrise
poetry and journaling
old books and games smelling of must and memories
cozy sweaters
air so clear you can taste it

a small anthology of thanks, from a to z.

This is just a very small list (because, as you know, I love lists) in honor of Thanksgiving, to celebrate a few wonderful, simple, ordinary, extraordinary things I am so very thankful for. I want to cultivate a spirit of gratitude and I want to have a heart that finds and sees joy. Taking time to reflect over the blessings in the past year makes me feel all fuzzy and warm and grateful, and it's so vital and good for me. In a few scattered sentences, from a to z, twenty six or so things I'm grateful for.

Happy Thanksgiving Eve and early Thanksgiving Day!

always thankful for simple days and honest moments.
breakfasts with my family at the lake, sleepy-eyed and clad in pajamas and vacation wonder.
costco runs, chai tea, coffee, and chocolate. all things delicious and good for the heart.
duluth trips, taken with family and a hearty helping of laughter.
envelopes holding penned words innumerably better than emails.
family, friends, and fellowship.
giving thanks anthologies, small and incomplete, but heart warming.
home, that place that is because of the people, not the house.
inside jokes and laughter between my sisters and I.
joy.
kept traditions every year
love. Jesus Christ's love for us, out of which spills love for others.
merry Christmas mornings at grandpa and grandpa's, egg bake and homemade cinnamon rolls with orange juice to begin the day.
noise, like the sound of the boy's laughter, the piano singing, the kettle whistling, games being played, and my family together.
open doors for the future, met head on with breathless excitement. also, oatmeal for breakfast.
photography, playing the piano, and pomegranates.
quiet of winter and still of morning.
recent reasons to smile, uncountable, but this is one of them:

starbucks coffee dates with my mom and dear friends.
time. such a weighty, wonderful gift!
ultimate baseball rules made by the family for Woodland, complete with a logo.
vision and purpose.
woodland. dear wonderful woodland and the wealth of memories from there.
x-rays, from last year that led to a surgery and now, to a foot that is healed.
yellow, red, green, blue, orange, purple, and all the unendingly varied shades and hues that paint the world.
zoo, that time we packed up the car and went as a family this fall.

<a href="http://manyrandommusings.blogspot.com/2012/11/a-small-anthology-of-thanks-from-to-z.html"><img vspace="none" hspace="none" alt="An Anthology of Thanks | Hannah Nicole" src="http://i617.photobucket.com/albums/tt255/ElvishAuthoress/ASPIRE%20DESIGN/ananthologyofthanks.png"></a>
If you would like to link up your own a to z anthology of thanks, or simply a Thanksgiving post, feel free to! I hope to read some of your collections of grateful stories. :) Blessings on your Thanksgiving, sweet friends! Have a day filled with joy, wonder, thanks, family, and grace. And of course, some pumpkin pie. xo, h

monday lists + a few things about me.

I love lists. I seem to gravitate towards them like some girls gravitate towards a new pair of shoes. Instead of suede or leather or glittery pumps (that I admit, I do secretly have a crush on), I'm drawn to the often hurried, sometimes thoughtful, oftentimes methodical process of putting words down on paper to create a list.

A call to action, a to-do, items to purchase at the grocery store, the fragmented similes of a poem yet to be put together. They all fascinate and excite me, and I save them away much like a squirrel with nuts come winter. They sit stuffed in the nooks and crannies of my desk, slipped in between pages of my journal, hiding in boxes underneath my bed.

Perhaps it's the change in season that makes me excited to begin things, but I seem to collect new ideas and projects like a cozy room with cookies collects people come Christmastime. And so, with 2013 looming ahead on the horizon, I'm going to attempt a list writing project. Not sure how many, not sure how long, but that's the fun of it, after all.

Lists number one through six. A few stories caught in between syllables. Happiest Monday to you, friends.

things that change me.
winter
this Truth
Singing at the piano
Woodland
cinnamon and peppermint
the wonder of the first snow
traditions, history, and family
honesty
friendship and the beauty of coffee dates
anything homemade, handmade, and made with love
heart to heart talks
picking apples at grandma and grandpa's
photos

books that make me cry.
The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
Walk Two Moons by Sharon Creech
Rilla of Ingleside by L. M. Montgomery
Sky Memories by Pat Brisson
Baby by Patricia Machlachan
The Giver by Lois Lowry

places I want to visit.
New Zealand
Italy
Czechoslovakia
Alaska
Ireland

photographers who inspire me.
We are the Parsons
Rosina W. Photo
Molly Flanagan
Ray + Kelly Photography
Jamie Delaine
Andria Lindquist
Tim Coulson

smells I like.
woodland
the lake
wood, from trees to plywood in home depot
cinnamon tea
freshly cut grass
petrichor
gardens and dirt
my dad’s old shirts
pies baking
my grandma’s kitchen
apple cider dripping and apple sauce cooking
blueberry pancakes and bacon sizzling in the morning at the oak cabin
towels fresh from the dryer
my home when I step in for the first time after a vacation

favorites I love.
the color red
Christmas morning at Grandma and Grandpa's
my Family
Pomegranates
Classical Music
scarves
moleskines
long socks
Starbucks coffee
my grandpa's Duluth sweater that is now mine