The Ordinary and Extraordinary


I couldn’t decide if I should share a photo of the beautiful tulips I bought on Tuesday, or my daughter’s horses.  You see which won out.  The tulips are lovely, a pale shade of yellow. But these toy horses, well, they tug at my heart even days after taking the shot.  My daughter hasn’t played with these particular horses in a while, but last week she spread a blanket across the family room floor and set them all up.  There they stayed for days and I happily moved around them so as not to disturb the set-up.  When I watch my children play – even my son who is nearing {I can’t believe I’m about to write this number} fourteen {ack!} – I am brought back to my own childhood days and how I used to get lost in stories and fantasy.  I remember playing with my own toy horses, in fact…acting out stories as if the horses were humans. It was magic.

And while I don’t play in the same way these days, stories are still a part of my days. Stories that I read to my children, stories that I read to myself, stories that I tell my children of days long ago, stories I tell my husband of the day transpired. In my journal, I write stories of every day life and stories of dreams and wonderings.  I write of magic.

Not the poof kind of magic.  But the ordinary, everyday, simple, extraordinary kind of magic. The magic of hot tea sipped slowly while the kids lazily read in the early hours of our day. The magic of a conversation with a dear friend.  The magic of watching my children grow before my very eyes.  The magic of watching myself continue to grow.  The magic of the snow which falls from our winter sky.  The magic of daffodils blooming in a friend’s yard on the west coast…as the snow falls from my east coast sky.  The magic of toy horses arranged on a fleece blanket field.  Magic, I tell you.

And it humbles me.  Brings me back to center, even as the dishes pile in the sink and the laundry pile grows and the dust bunnies lie along the hallway baseboard.  The ordinary, everyday, simple, extraordinary kind of magic that finds us if we but look and listen and embrace…

Sending a little love your way, m



Who Knew


Plans are cancelled and new ones made as
the white sky releases heavy flakes from its mouth
falling faster and heavier than those who told us what’s coming
really knew.

Layers are donned
hats, scarves, gloves, boots
all that remains a nose, two eyes
peeking from within fortification.

Bounding down the back steps and
into the white, crunching

Shovelfuls, handfuls
packing and molding
sled runs and igloos and
people of the snow.

And when the cold and wet work their way into bones
and bellies beg for food
a bursting through the door, disrobing
and so much more than nose and eyes beam at me in delight.

Hats, scarves, gloves, boots
some hung, some tossed to the towel laid upon the floor
contentment hovering in the air.
Did the weather forecasters know this would come too?

No one really knew
what today would hold until
the holding had all been held
and then we knew.  We really knew.


Sending a little love your way, m



25 Things I Love About Winter


1.  fires in the fireplace
2.  lighting more candles
3.  lots of hot tea
4.  hot cocoa {marshmallows for the kids}
5.  the quiet, grey skies
6.  the blue skies which appear just when i need them
7.  wool sweaters
8.  mittens {still loving my new ones}
9.  boots
10.  snow…because, otherwise, what’s the point of the cold?
11. the crispness of the air
12. seeing my breath
13. bare tree branches against the sky
14. being out in the cold, then coming into the warm
15. homemade soups more often
16. baking cookies {I know, year-round…but even better in the winter}
17. flannel sheets
18. flannel pajamas
19. the reflective nature of the season
20. reading while curled up under a fleece blanket
21. red wine {I know, year-round like #14…but i love it more in winter}
22. my husband {yep, year-round again…but he grills even in the freezing cold}
23. my kids {last year-round one, i promise…but they sled with me}
24. have you walked at 7 am on a winter morning? {the quiet…oh, the quiet}
25. the fact that winter bares herself without apology

Now there must be something you like about winter.  Tell me just one thing…

Sending a little love your way, m


P.S.  Several of you sweetly inquired about the status of my daughter’s puzzle.  She completed it…beautifully and patiently, and with a little help from her family…turned out to be a lovely group effort.  And now she plans to glue the pieces and hang it on her bedroom wall. #veryproud

P.P.S. My friend Tara is hosting a super giveaway this week to celebrate her birthday…prizes for each day of the week! Click here for details and to enter.



Yes, Please and Thank You


I know there are folks who argue that Valentine’s Day is a holiday for the greeting card companies {and floral companies and candy companies}.  And I get that, sort of.  But the way I see it, what’s wrong with having a day once a year where we think about and talk about and feel a little extra love?  How can that be a bad thing?

I say it’s not bad at all.  One can choose to buy cards or not {or make cards}, buy flowers or not, buy candies or not {yes, please and thank you on the Valentine M&Ms}.  All of that is irrelevant.  What matters is the love.  And if love is brought to the forefront for one extra day every year, i say {like the M&Ms} yes, please and thank you.

Valentine’s Day isn’t solely the realm of romantic relationships.  It isn’t about candy or roses. It’s about the love.  The love, folks.

So tell someone that you love them.  Give someone a hug {actually, give lots of people hugs}. Hold the door open for a stranger.  Smile.  Run a bubble bath.  Listen to someone else’s story.

Do this on Valentine’s Day.
Actually, do this every day.  Yes, please and thank you.

Sending a little {extra} love your way, m

Happy Valentine’s Day.



:: Sometimes Mondays ::


Sometimes Mondays look like a third {or fourth} cup of hot tea because one just can’t seem to shake the day’s grey chill.

Sending a little love your way, m


Part of an ongoing {I think} series of Monday snapshots.  Quiet reflections.
And I just might ask some of you to join me in the future.  Will keep you posted…





It is no small feat to listen to one’s heart.  Sure, it’s easy in some instances, like last week’s pie {I knew it was what my heart needed…my body, maybe not…my heart, absolutely}.  But there are other occasions that leave one stalled.  When I stall, I try to keep my heart open and listen to the stories inside, I try to listen to my stories reflected in the words of others, I try to track where and when and how I feel joy.  I try to follow the breadcrumbs.

There is a path, there is a pattern, there is a rhythm.

Right now I’m listening and following any breadcrumbs laid before me.  Be assured there’s no great disruption in my life, just some reflecting and sorting of creative ideas.  I write about following breadcrumbs because it’s a metaphor used by Jessica in her meditation e-course {in which I’m currently participating and currently enjoying…immensely} and when she used it, it stuck with me.  And you know I like thinking about and living the small things.  The breadcrumbs.  The simple joys.  You know I love how the little stitch together to make the whole.  Yes.

Peace is every step.
~Thich Nhat Hanh~

I included this quote in my February newsletter, so for those of you who subscribe to my newsletter, I apologize for the crossover. But it’s good and it fits right now.  Peace is every step. I am stepping with you, breathing with you, resting with the questions and answers, following the breadcrumbs.

Sending a little love your way, m


P.S. Also, I’d like to remind you that there are just a few days left to register for 28 Moments. It’s going to be a lovely four weeks of gathering in community and exploring daily life.  Click here for information and to register.





Sometimes the afternoon calls for the last slice of apple pie and a hot cup of tea.  Sometimes, when your husband gets a ticket for an overdue car inspection {on the car you usually drive} and you’re second-guessing yourself about this and that – and the other thing too – the afternoon calls for putting everything on hold.  Sometimes the afternoon calls you back just when you were about to get away from yourself.  Sometimes an afternoon isn’t good or bad; it just is.

And always the afternoon will move into evening.  And then night will wrap her arms around you and invite you to snuggle in close. Tomorrow, she will whisper, you will begin again.  And it isn’t good or bad.  It just is.  It just is

Sending  a little love your way, m