Sing! Sing a Song!

Its Saturday morning, Matthew and Dory are playing in the living room and I am tucked up in bed, with this laptop, a stack of books, a candle burning and I can see about two inches of Knoxville snow* out of my window, an occasional flurry sweeping in another handful of snowflakes. And for some reason, I have the song from Sesame Street ("sessy street" as Dory calls it) in my head. This version particularly. We are thoughtful and limiting on what Dory watches, but Sesame Street is still a classic to me. Especially scenes like this one.

I have no special blog to write today, except for working to build a habit. So I'll mention the books by my bed right now.

Simple Abundance: A Daybook of Comfort and Joy by Sarah Ban Breathnach
Coop: A Year of Poultry, Pigs, and Parenting by Michael Perry
All New Square Foot Gardening by Mel Batholomew
You Are Your Child's First Teacher by Rahima Baldwin Dancy

I also have the Winter 2010 of Interweave Knits

Also
Angelina on Stage and
Llama, Llama Red Pajama

And I've just been invaded- time to read those last two books! Will write more about my reads later. Definitely a theme developing though... What books are you starting this new year?

And I'll mention, just now Dory thrust a crayon and piece of paper at me to make our grocery list. She said we need; Bread, Eggs, Cheese, Blankets, Sofa, Pillows, and Curtains. Sounds like an ideal list for a wintry Saturday to me.

Happy snowy Saturday to you!

*Knoxville snow: an inch to three, melts fast, rarely stops up traffic or sticks on roads, but sends our whole town (myself included) into a frenzy for bread and milk. Everyone goes to get bread and milk. Gluten-free, dairy-intolerant people race to the supermarkets for bread and milk. Causes me to wonder, is this some strange plot by our local grocery stores to sell more bread and milk in these crazy diet days? Just a thought...

Good Eatin'

In the spirit of adventure, meals around the Mojo household are a little different than usual.  Inspired by Simple Abundance and Matthew being home to keep track of Little One, I've been on a new recipes jag.

First we tried Rachael Ray's "Beef Horseradish Strudel," exciting because it dealt with puff pastry, something I've normally considered too fiddly to fool with.  


Gorgeous I think, but My God! that's a lot of food. We still have an entire loaf of meat-pie in the fridge. Hungry anyone?

Next on the menu was Peppercorn Pork with Parmesan Smashed Potatoes from Ellie Krieger's The Food You Crave.  Yesterday we made Ellie's Pumpkin Muffins for breakfast:


and for dinner last night, Spaghetti with Turkey Meatballs and Spicy Tomato Sauce. Healthy and yummy!

The reviews of all the new cooking have been favorable.  Even the turkey meatballs earned high accolades from Matthew, the ultimate carnivore.  I humbly took my praise and assured him it had more to do with the team of sous chefs I had helping.




I think all good cooks would agree, you're only as good as the babies chewing on ladles and dogs licking the floor in your kitchen.

A Bit of Elbow Grease

"I had almost forgotten
How lovely it is.
To be tired and leave
Things to themselves."
Lars Gustafson, translated by John Irons

Recently, my mama went to an estate sale and picked up, for me, the most soothing and delicious book, Simple Abundance: A Daybook of Comfort and Joy by Sarah Ban Breathnach. SA is an authentic and soulful work, filled with spiritual and applicable thoughts and advice. I am, when I'm not nervous about it, excited about the paths it takes me down.

This week's topic has been money, and the daily essays are filled with both mentally enriching and practical advice for thinking of, handling and managing money. For the most part, I've absorbed it readily enough. Today however, while trying to sort out bills, I got in a good, heavy funk. Here was a situation with no immediate resolution and I fell into worry, an ineffectual heart-crushing action.

A conversation with my mom helped tremendously, enough to remind me there was a bigger and greater energy in the world than that of bills or the national economy. We hung up, and I felt a little restored, but still unsatisfied. While Dory napped, I rallied enough energy to do two things: scrub my bathtub and talk with God.

These conversations are still so new to me, something I've begun in the last few years. They start abruptly, not kneeling sweetly in front of my bed at night, but in the middle of five o' clock traffic or silently in a chaotic get-together or in a half-sleep in the middle of the night while nursing Dory. They can be anything from "I am so grateful..." to "WHAT is going on..." Today I started with some kind of chemical cleaner with bleach for the tub. In my conversation, I fretted, accused and worried out loud about two weeks from now, two days from now, two hours from now. I didn't get anywhere with either track, so I gave up both of those.

I tried a second, natural cleaner and requests for help. Help in seeing the positive, help in finding the best in the situation, help to not waste anymore of my life in worthless, wasteful worry. Anne Lamott, a particularly brilliant writer on the subject of faith, says her main prayer is "help me, help me, help me, and thank you, thank you, thank you." I stuck with help me.

I gave up on cleaners and moved on to a good solid scrub brush, with a fat handle and thick solid bristles. At some point, in asking for help, I'd grown calm enough and clear enough to ask the question: "What does my life look like, right now, through the eyes of God? What does my Authentic Self, as Breathnach calls it, know about me?" That question, finally, resonated. What does Spirit see? A woman with... great health... a gorgeous, thriving baby... a gorgeous, thriving husband. A woman with loving, thriving parents. A woman with a warm home, running water, electricity. A woman with lovable, though fairly smelly, dogs. A woman with great friends. A woman who loves knitting and fiber. A woman who enjoys walking when she makes the time. A woman with a passion for writing and literature. A woman who likes to laugh and has plenty of reasons to everyday. The grime started to streak and abate; the scuffed white tub underneath began to show through. Both the literal and metaphorical cleaning worked their magic. I threw my back and heart into it, knowing the time before Dory woke up was brief and that, once she was up, I wanted to be present with her.

What did this woman really want? Comfort. I wanted a little comfort, a little serenity and ease in my present moment. I can't know with absolute certainty what will happen in the next few weeks, next week, next day. But this worthless, wasteful worrying- agh! This felt helpless and served no purpose.

Looking at a white bathtub brought me a little comfort. Picking up Dory and cuddling her in my arms brought me more. I decided to seek comforts for the rest of the day. Fresh sheets on the bed. Putting Dory's pumpkin hat on her. Making a good friend's potato soup recipe for dinner. Chatting with Matthew about his day at work. Reading the SA essay for today again. Putting this lovely girl to bed and seeing, as always, how very, very blessed I am.



It wasn't easy and several times, actually many, many, many times I felt that old fear start to creep back up. What about- tomorrow? this person? this event? Each time, I dragged my mind back, back to the present, the here and now. I had everything I needed right now. Today. In this minute. Still my mind wandered, and still I brought it back. I wasn't blissfully, wildly, outrageously happy getting ready for bed. That would have been lovely, but a stretch. I was quiet, thoughtful and grateful.

The most important part of the day? Remembering the second part of the prayer and taking it to bed with me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.