“It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.” -Dumbledore
The dark felt darker this morning. When the early morning light arrived, it was heavy and dim with fog.
I love an occasional morning like this, but the repetition of gray days…well, it gets a bit old for me!
*googles SoCal real estate*
*resigns self to remaining in Midwest*
My brain felt just about as foggy as the weather. I was going round and round with a few things. To say I feel uncertain about which course of action to take in any number of areas is an understatement.
…
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Anyone who knows me well knows I’m not and never have been an early morning person. {And to my brothers-in-law who came knocking on our trailer door before 9am those first few years I was a young bride and mother, no I have not forgiven you.}
I’ve always regularly needed at least 8 hours of sleep, and when my babies were little I needed at least 10! I used to wonder if I was missing out on some sort of holiness game-up, in which rising before dawn would not only improve my productivity but more importantly, my spirituality. Like, didn’t the Proverbs 31 woman get up while it was still dark? I always thought that if I had servant girls, they’d be making ME breakfast, not the other way around.
What I really want to wake up to every morning.
…
Dear Candace,
For the past week I’ve been afflicted by, as I call it, a body rash. I won’t go into detail on this public forum, but suffice it to say that large portions of my epidermis have been covered in a blotchy, slightly bumpy, incredibly annoying, very ridiculous rash.
Before I get yelled at to go to the doctor, allow me to explain that I don’t have any other symptoms which would warrant an immediate visit to the urgent care, and I’ve been conferring with my doctor (who is, of course, on spring break) and getting advice from nurse friends who have some insight to give me.
As it turns out, rashes are a dark and mysterious, often unexplainable entity. I don’t have hives, shingles, or poison ivy (thanks, nurse friends). According to Google, I have no less than 50 diseases. Feeling in the mood to be terrified? Here, just search “rashes and their causes” on Google images. You’re welcome. Sweet dreams.
Benadryl and creams of all sorts have been helping me cope. Thankfully, a week in and I’m almost over it, I think. Could it be viral, or a reaction to something I was newly prescribed? Yes. There’s also a high chance I’ve been experimented on by aliens. Turns out they don’t want me.
You can’t ignore a rash like this. Its become a part of me, of my identity. “Hi, my name is Rachel and I have a Rash.” At a department store recently, while getting fitted and surveyed for proper formal attire, I blurted out my rash story in an apology voice. The lady with the measuring tape just grunted. To my relief, it didn’t seem to bother her. As I looked at myself in the mirror, wearing the dress I’ll probably have on at my sister’s wedding next week, a commentary ran through my mind:
“This is our sister Rash Rachel, featuring a neck rash of epic proportions vying with her necklace for the biggest statement.”
“What was she like before the rash? We can’t remember, but we think her skin was very white.”
I took an oatmeal bath during the peak of my rash season, since Google and everybody else recommended it for its “skin-soothing properties.” The oats were in a fine mesh bag so they didn’t make a mess in the tub; the water turned a resulting milky oat color. I couldn’t tell any difference in my skin afterwards, though squeezing oat slime out of the bag was kind of fun, plus once I put coconut oil in my hair I smelled like granola.
I ran across this funny cartoon during all my investigations-
Doctor, to his over-large patient: “It’s not a rash, it’s moss. You need to start being more active than a tree.”
That’s the more likely explanation in my case. Maybe I’ll walk today.
Wishing for clear skies and clear skin,
Rachel
Letter 31 {A Return}
Photo by Andrea Tummons on Unsplash
Dear Candace,
It’s been almost 30 weeks since my last letter. {Letter 30} It’s like I planned this!
I did not plan this. I plan nothing.
As I reflect on that last letter and our time at the ocean, it seems much more distant than 30 weeks. That’s what winter does to you. Winter keeps you in its winter grip, dimming memories of sunshine and warm. I miss warm. Please don’t console me with words of spring; I prefer being melancholy right now.
Here are the top things you need to know about the past 30 weeks, in case I’ve forgotten to mention them:
I’ve been reading more, so that’s a good thing. In fact, I just devoured Ann Rule’s The Stranger Beside Me so fast I’m still dizzy. At almost 500 pages, it’s no light read. I chose her book on Ted Bundy, convicted serial killer (who I knew very little about), over numerous piles of laundry and I feel I made the right choice.
Ann writes carefully, thoughtfully, honestly. She humanizes Ted as she grapples with what her friendship with him meant as well as her slow discovery that, unbelievably, he really was capable of and responsible for atrocious crimes. She compassionately brings the victims’ stories to light so they will not be forgotten or overlooked. I need you to read this ASAP so we can DISCUSS.
Following a somewhat dark (or at least sobering) thread, I also recently read Everything I Never Told You, by Celeste Ng. Even though the story is fictional, the relationships and scenarios described were very relatable. The real life ending left me alternately devastated and hopeful. It’s a book I’ll be thinking about for a long time.
It was fun times helping pull off a Bachelorette party for my sister Naomi. {Instagram picture here.} She’s getting married at the end of the month! Do I have a dress picked out? That would be a NO. I’m trying, though, I really am. I’ve tried on so many dresses the inside of dressing rooms have begun to feel like a familiar cell.
For the Bachelorette, instead of a fancy dinner at one restaurant, we visited three different small-plate style restaurants in St. Louis which was perfect; props to my sister Keturah for planning our destinations: Taste, Planter’s House, & Bridge. Before the party officially started, I managed to lock us all out of our hotel bathroom with a hot iron on inside. I’d been brushing my teeth at the time while wandering around (?) and had a mouthful of spit when I tried to get back in the bathroom. Why do hotel bathrooms need locks, anyway? We waited around in our finery, me with fuzzy toothpaste all over my teeth, until hotel staff came up to unlock the door, which was not awkward for me at all.
My insomnia is better and I’m SUPER thankful for that. It’s annoying to not be able to sleep well and soundly, and this experience has deepened my sympathy for people with chronic sleep issues more severe than mine. I’ve been working on a bedtime routine to aid in successful slumbers; I’ll have to share more about that. I feel like I’m concocting a magical sleep recipe every night, complete with a bunny eye mask-!
What else? I traveled a little. By myself to CO for a retreat, with the family to TX for hurricane relief work, to TN for holiday celebrations. I must’ve done a few other things, too, but now all I can think about is all that laundry I put off…
Thanks for reading; you’re the best-
Rachel
This letter contains affiliate links, which means if you make a purchase after clicking through one of my links, I may receive a {very small} commission at no extra cost to you. Thank you for supporting this blog! It means the world and a stack of letters to me.
Photo by Jeffrey Wegrzyn on Unsplash
This post contains affiliate links, which means if you make a purchase after clicking through one of my links, I may receive a {very small} commission at no extra cost to you. Thank you for supporting this blog! It means the world and a cozy winter afternoon to me.
Remember that thing called SUMMER? It feels like a myth to me right now. The vaguest of dreams. These depictions of January by cartoonist Rox Chast pretty much sum up all my January feelings:
Yet here we are, halfway through winter! {And everyone in the Midwest said, “Amen.”} Inspired by Anne at Modern Mrs. Darcy, I’m sharing things which are positively contributing to my winter days in big and small ways. At the end you’ll find a sources list, should you want to check them out yourself.
∇ Hygge in the form of white unscented CANDLES. During my visit to Copenhagen fall of 2016, I fell in love with the Dane’s use of white candles. Every restaurant and cafe had them. They burned in masses on silver platters in niche boutiques, single pillars on outdoor tables, coffee shop candelabras, in every size and form imaginable, tucked into nooks and crannies, but always white, always cozy, always inviting one to sit awhile and just be. While I do love the right kind of scented candle, I’m very picky about them, and only burn one on occasion. The white unscented variety is perfect for everyday use, especially when I’m using my next favorite winter save, which is…
∇ An essential oil air DIFFUSER. I’m not an oils aficionado by any means, but I definitely appreciate how the diffuser has a way of cleaning and refreshing the air in my home {word: boys} without toxicity or giving me a headache. I’m still using Christmas blends because who doesn’t love that fresh evergreen scent mixed with a bit of citrus?
∇ Next on my list is READING. I mentioned this in my “5 Things I’ve Been Working on in January” post. Reading aloud with the children (history after breakfast, a novel during lunch), aloud to Tom while he drives, and finally to myself at the end of the day brings me so much joy.
∇ SOUP. We’ve been having some kind of comforting soup at least once a week since Christmas. When everyone had a head cold, it was homemade chicken and veggie soup. Then thick and creamy chana dal. Spiced cauliflower soup, curried pumpkin lentil, hearty beef stew…there is a soup for every mood and preference! I gravitate towards simple, healthy and hearty. I refuse to slave over soup. I cannot.
∇ YOGA. My sister Mara has been encouraging me to try yoga for a long time, but I whined (“your class is too far away from me”) and procrastinated (“I have too many other things to do”). We joined our local YMCA last fall, and it’s literally 5 minutes from my house. There was no excuse left in my bag of excuses. I needed to practice self care and get my body moving more, and it wasn’t happening at home like it should. So I made myself go to the Y and take a couple classes before the holidays, and I was hooked. Immediately in January I started up again. Do I get tangled up with myself in class? Yes. Does the instructor have to come and gently correct me so I don’t injure something? All the time. Yet I LOVE it! It’s gentle, focused, and a wonderful way for me spend an hour on mental and physical health.
Where to find all the things:
I usually purchase white unscented candles at IKEA. Also, Amazon.
This is the diffuser I’m using in the living room. I love how it fits with my semi-mid-century look. Here are some favorite winter blends I’ve used recently:
Balsam Branches {5 drops balsam fir + 3 drops orange +3 drops cinnamon bark}
Evergreen {4 drops balsam fir + 3 drops blue spruce + 3 drops pine}
Cider {4 drops orange + 2 drops nutmeg + 1 drop cinnamon bark + 1 drop clove}
Books mentioned: Exploring World History, Derwood, Inc., Your Best Year Ever, Salt to the Sea
Soups:
Chicken & veggie-I usually don’t use a recipe, but this one from Pioneer Woman is basically what I do!
Chana dal-again, no recipe but I do variations like this Hearty Chana Dal Soup and Instant Pot Chana Dal Soup
Beef Stew-by now it’s clear I like to wing-it for certain recipes, so I give you Sunday Night Stew and Beef Stew with Beer from Pioneer Woman because they are LEGIT.
Yoga online: my daughter loves Yoga with Adrienne! And I love Jennifer, my instructor at the Y. If you’re local to me, please come join me for a class. I will wear my “Majestically Awkward” shirt and it will be fun!
What’s saving your life this winter? I’d love to hear!
Photos by John-Mark Kuznietsov on Unsplash
It seemed straightforward enough. People do it every day, all the time. I’m a millennial; shouldn’t I be most at home in a coffee shop? Yet things rarely ever do go as I plan them.
I was there early, though not as much as I’d hoped because drying my hair took longer than it should have. I think my hair dryer of 10+ years has quite outlived it’s cost-per-use and needs to replaced. I think of this just about every other day when I am standing at the bathroom sink drying my hair. It shouldn’t take so long to get the job done. Have you seen my hair? I’ve seen BABIES with more hair.
I had perhaps an hour to write and look pensive before my morning commitments began, so into the coffee shop I walked, bag over my shoulder. I was further from home and rarely visited this particular place. While waiting in line to place my order (regular dark roast, please) I selected a pair of socks because I need socks and they were made with proper amounts of wool and cotton. It wasn’t until I was paying for them I realized the wool must be from Australia’s finest frolicking merino sheep because it cost nearly as much as the sheep. One doesn’t simply return coffee shop socks to the shelf when the hipster coffee shop barista is staring at you stroking them.
Here is the thing. This particular location seemed to be full of business professionals. There were lots of suits, lipstick, and clicking heels. Everyone appeared to be having an important breakfast meeting. Only a small percentage of patrons were students, moms-running-errands like me, or bearded men in plaids. A very small percentage, and mainly stuck in odd corners or along the window seating.
I chose a table next to a suited gentleman clicking away on his Mac with a Bluetooth device attached to his ear. When I sat down and sipped my coffee, I realized I needed cream. I returned with creamy coffee and began pulling out my planner, whereupon I remembered I needed napkins because I’d already dripped the coffee. After finding and placing napkins on my table and digging in my bag some more, it became clear I’d left my phone IN THE VAN. I stood up again, leaving my coffee and hoping no one would clear my table before I came back. It may have been my imagination, but as I left my table for the third time Bluetooth Suit did seem to be developing a nervous twitch.
At last, returning to the table with my security blanket {phone} and definitely cooler coffee, my bladder alerted me to its desperate need. I kept half my stuff there and ran to the bathroom, nearly knocking over a chair on my way. Once I returned and pulled out my Chromebook, I went to plug it in when I discovered…I had no outlet. The outlets were along the windows where the students and plaids were sitting. Did I dare risk getting up again to walk past my neighbor, who was now eyeing me sternly? I decided to stay until the last minute, when my battery was for real shutting down.
Five minutes later, I packed everything back up and shifted to the one available window seat next to a couple girls pouring over their study notes.
How anyone gets anything done in a coffee shop I have no idea at this point. However, this was my window of time and I was going to squeeze every drop out of it. I finished my cold coffee, sip by sip, writing out my thoughts, line by line, and then it was all-too quickly time to leave.
Goodbye, Bluetooth Suit. I know you’ll miss me.
Wait-I’m back I LEFT MY BOOK UGH.
Photo credit: Nafinia Putra and Jason Briscoe on Unsplash
{This is not an exhaustive list.}
Get majorly lost.
Spend a night on those uncomfortable blue chairs you can’t lay down on.
Pat downs: always.
Security going through my bags and finding that jar of chocolate peanut butter I forgot I’d put in my carry-on. {You didn’t have to laugh when you threw it in the trash.}
Hauling children.
Delays of all sorts.
Confiscation of my pocketknife. Ooops, forgot it was on my key-chain.
Confiscation of my pocketknife AGAIN. Why can I not remember this??
Having to sit near the vagabond who hasn’t washed in approx. 365 days.
Being so early that the flight info isn’t even out nor is any eatery open. Wah, no coffee! #overacheiver
Being so late there isn’t time to sit before boarding the plane. #procrastinator
Sitting on a toilet only to be surprised and horrified by a gloved hand reaching in to my stall from the other side to replace the toilet paper. It’s like a 8×8 inch opening. Blue Gloves can totally see my knickers.
Eat amazing food! {I’m especially looking at you, Copenhagen and Paris.}
Observe remarkable people.
Experience one of the most fascinating microcosms of our world. Travel is the best.
Photo by marcus zymmer on Unsplash
Dear Candace,
I’m writing to you on the 16th floor balcony of our lovely condo overlooking the Gulf of Mexico. It’s the very best of views, and perfect for dolphin spotting. The beach sand below is not unlike powdered sugar; the constant breeze invigorating. Cliche, but…it feels like I’m in a dream! The whole family is loving this experience. Our first day here was spent almost entirely in the ocean, riding waves and hunting for shells. I finished a book. We drank gallons of liquid. The paint is coming off my toenails. I have the oddest tan lines on the entire beach (positive about this).
Hmm, do I have to go back? We can home-school right here! 😉
Short but sweet, because the waves beckon and I must go.
Also I must NOT get a sunburn.
Seashells and squid tails,
Rachel
Dear Candace,
It feels suspiciously like fall outside with the sky an electric blue and the temps dropping to a lovely, cool 60 degrees. It’s the fifth of August. I will only accept such weather behavior as a reprieve from the heat and not as the early onset of fall. I love fall, but in its place; it must bow to summer. It’s summer’s apology for being over. I can’t think about this right now. I need summer with all my heart.
My head is full of books and lessons and lists as we prepare for a new educational year with the kids. Classes signed up for, new math books started, it’s all underway and I am being reluctantly swept along!
I am trying to think about what happened this past week…how do summer days escape so quickly?? Our HVAC unit was replaced, so there was a lot of in-and-out related to that. We hosted a total of four nieces and nephews one day while their mama went to the doctor, I accused the deer of razing down some plants when really it was Tom trimming things up, we went to all the lessons and all the things, another sister-in-law and her girls visited, Caleb’s snake (Mango) returned home after a summer spent at a childrens’ camp, the garden started churning out tomatoes and now my counters are lined with them (BLT’s 4EVAH*), I started reading Seabiscuit, and about 40 other things.
Remember when I started the book Simply Tuesday, something life half a year ago? I’m almost finished reading it. I’ve been savoring it-a few lines here and there during my morning reading over the last several months.
Here is what I read this morning, and it’s sticking to me like a burr:
I sat on a bench with a book and a journal at a local park, but I did more staring than reading. I watched the moms and babies stroll by, the workers with their good intentions toward the public bathrooms, the guy on his bike who roe without a helmet. I read a little about David, how he was both a man after God’s heart and a killer. I thought about how none of us are just one thing, but many shades of light and dark and shadows of gray, proof that we need Jesus.
-Emily P. Freeman
Love,
Rachel
*Facebook post about this: Here is the thing. It’s tomato season and you need plenty of home-grown tomatoes (I can help you with that), thick-sliced bacon (hard for me to share but I will make an effort), crisp lettuce (not weak, watery iceberg; the real green stuff), and mayo (you know you want the chipotle or sriracha kind). Sourdough bread is delightful, too, but if you’re avoiding bread then just wrap everything else together and throw in some sliced jalapeños for good measure. Breakfast, lunch, dinner-boom. Menu planning is over.
This letter contains affiliate links, which means if you make a purchase after clicking through one of my links, I will receive a {very small} commission at no extra cost to you. Thank you for supporting this blog! It means the world and a stack of letters to me.
Dear Candace,
You know how family vacation begins. Finally, the van is loaded. Finally, everyone has gone potty (some of them twice) and is buckled in. You instruct everyone to absolutely not tug on or remove anything in the carefully arranged stacks of suitcases and paraphernalia lest it trigger a catastrophic un-packing event in which the van implodes internally.
You are on the road. Mercy, husband has thoughtfully filled up with gas so the pumps can be avoided.
Of course there is that one stop at Walgreen’s for miscellany. {Why are corn chips so expensive?}
Heading out of the city, you impulsively think it would be such fun to get everyone an ice-cream treat to start the vacation off right. Whispering conspiratorially with your husband, the two of you make a plan. {Or, more accurately, since he’s driving you show him an image of an ice-cream cone on your phone and pantomime the rest so the kids don’t hear.}
Soon you stop at a McDonald’s on a busy exit. Husband has to pee since he ate a lot of watermelon earlier (when did he have time to do that? You’ve only managed to eat ONE HARD-BOILED EGG because, packing). Once inside, the waitress apologetically explains the soft serve machine is dead. No ice-cream to be had there. Back in the van, then off again to the nearest fast food joint. Jack-in-the-box is almost empty! Only two cars in the drive-through, so you get in line.
And wait.
Wait, wait, wait.
An old lady hair starts to grow on your chin.
Your husband looks at you as if to say, “Why are we doing this, again?” You back out of the the line with the other vehicles still sitting in exactly the same place. The person holding everyone up must be ordering 50 menu items in varying combinations.
Forward on the highway you go, and this time you must find ice-cream because of course now the children know. The children are counting on it. The children mustn’t be disappointed. This is vacation, after all!
Ten miles down the highway, another McDonald’s sign is spotted. Ah, this will be easy. It’s not as crowded on this exit. This way to the golden arches! Yay! We’re gonna have an ice-cream cone!
Wait-where is the restaurant? Three more miles north of the interstate? Oh.
Naturally, since it’s the only restaurant for perhaps miles in this desolate land, a crowd has gathered. The drive-through looks a bit busy, and feeling raw from your recent experience, you decided to skip it and “just run inside real quick.” The line stretches from the door to the cashier but you are not. leaving. without. ice-cream. You watch, mesmerized, as the young woman taking orders casually flicks her waist-long, thick, black braids here, there, and probably all over your ice-cream. She moves slowly and gracefully. So slowly. You know you’re getting to your destination an hour late at this point. There’s no use in fighting anymore.
When it’s your turn to order, you rattle off your requests like a pro ice-cream juggler, payment poised in hand. Just hurry, black-haired beauty, so we can get back on the road before the afternoon ends. You think this longingly, wishing you’d never suggested a deviation from the straight and narrow.
She leans into the ice-cream while she prepares it. Strands of hair wilding, ever so close. You wonder when food establishments stopped utilizing those wonderful hairnets. She can’t find things she needs-this and that is in the back and apparently she’s the only one to fetch it. Leisurely she puts everything together, as if fifty eyeballs weren’t staring at her. People in line shift behind you, clearing their throats.
When you’ve at long last returned to the van with your treats, you feel an Olympic thrill. You’ve made it to the finish line! It’s vacation! There’s ice-cream! Blessedly sought-after ice-cream. It’s already melting in this heat.
Are we there yet?
Next road trip, we are quite probably skipping the ice-cream! 😉
~Rachel