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washing off our balcony

We're still set to close on the Probable House in less than two weeks, and I've discovered something. What have I discovered? That after spending months (months) complaining about how I was going to have to somehow pack while also looking after a toddler and a preschooler... there really isn't very much to pack.

repainting the shelves, since they were all scuffed, so they'll have time to cure before I put books back on them

I'm hoping to donate all of the baby things tomorrow... I've packed 20 (twenty) boxes of books (small boxes, but still) and that doesn't include Brooklyn and Tobin's or my knitting books (there aren't many of those, but most of them are large and heavy), and I've stalled. Almost everything else is already in a box, bin, bag, or drawer (which we're counting as "packed") and anything beyond that is stuff that's in daily use. There are some kitchen items I could pack, but I'm out of boxes (I'm planning on asking a nearby liquor store if I can have some of theirs - sturdy and a good size, and I have an aversion to paying for disposable packing materials, especially for an across-town move).

at a new-to-us food truck rally - Adam had barbecue, and Brooklyn and I ate our dessert before dinner

I hadn't realized how much I rely on my books to have something to do - they're entertainment and reference, all in one. I kept out a few that I'm currently going through for book clubs/projects/Bible studies and I'm getting the old Nancy Drew books from the library five at a time, but simply boxing them up and moving the empty shelves into a disused corner has driven me outside more. We've been to the library, the zoo, more than one food truck rally, and I'm strongly tempted to renew our Museum of Discovery membership, just to have another place to go.

I spotted #30DaysOfBibleLettering when a friend posted about it on Instagram - hand lettering a verse (either the prescribed one, or one of your choosing) every day in April. I've been chalking mine on the balcony.

Also, when I'm home, I feel an odd sort of anxiety crossed with guilt. Like I should be Doing Something, or maybe I'm forgetting and leaving something important undone, and I'm also wholly unmotivated to do ordinary daily things like picking up toys or loading the dishwasher (I did have a realization last week, though, as we're about to move out - the reason why I've avoided loading/unloading our dishwasher is because it is loud, takes 3 hours to cycle, and there is nowhere in the apartment you can go to get away from the noise. For three hours. Did I mention that it's loud?) I motivate myself with short-ish term projects, preferably ones that take an amount of energy and thought that is manageable but still requires effort. The 100 Day Project starts next week (because I'm crazy and think it's a good idea to tackle something like that over the course of a move and a busy summer) but until then I'm feeling rather lost.

this chair (and its two siblings before) has served us well, but I'm praying this weld holds until we move and then it can take its final rest in the trash compacter - otherwise we'll be eating our meals on the couch, because our other chair is also breaking

I'm teetering on the brink of Change, collecting ideas that I can't implement yet in a cute journal, and I should probably be relishing this space of stillness in between, but instead I'm champing at the bit, raring for the next adventure to begin.

2590. Consolidating small groups, since there were so few of us, and ending up in a group with someone I've been needing to talk to
2591. The lady at the register at Target telling me about an unsigned promotion on something that I needed (but had forgotten to grab)
2592. Long naps for the Littles while I packed
2593. Surviving a long morning after a trying night
2594. That surprise trips to food truck rallies make Adam feel loved
2596. Loblolly Creamery always having dairy free options, and Brooklyn adorably sitting on a curb and eating her sorbet
2597. Waiting a few minutes for a fresh rotisserie chicken
2598. Unexpected sunshine
2599. A little knitting time


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31 Days of Unraveling Designs

It's that time of year again... the 31 Days writing challenge starts today! Bloggers from all over will be writing every day of the month of October on the topic of their choosing. This will be my fourth year participating - the first year I did 7 for 31, and spent a month going through Jen Hatmaker's book 7. The second year I did 31 Days of Sustainable Dwelling, and wrote about local and fair trade living. Last year I was busy but still wanted to participate, so I went the easy route with 31 Days of Everyday Beautiful.

This year I'm diving into my greatest passion: knitting! I'll spend this month looking at past designs and talking about the inspiration behind them, so there will be plenty of regular life mixed in with the stitching - and there may be discount codes for the patterns that I write about. You'll just have to read and see!

Pattern index:

Pageturner Mitts
Hogwarts House Tie
Urban Artemis
Graffiti for Humanity
Love Out Loud
Strange Jacket


In order to change your knitting, you must first change yourself. I've lost track of how many times I've said that, or how many people I've said it to. Frustrated new knitters wondering why their work is loose or tight or uneven or really anything less than perfect. But something I love about knitting is that it's a record of your inner dialogue. That swatch knit at the yarn store table with a cozy cup of coffee and a helpful (and more experienced) knitter nearby is going to be a lot more relaxed than the sweater begun a week later while sitting next to a hospital bed - just like the knitter.

Unfortunately, this also applies to my own knitting. For years, I was apparently unaffected by the shifts and turmoils in my own life, so I assumed that I was exempt from the rule - when the reality was, in fact, that I wasn't really experiencing any of those on anything deeper than a surface level because everything was deadened by depression. When I finally started to really…


A few years ago, I was introduced to the concept of replacing the traditional list of resolutions with a single word. It appealed to me - I am not a big list person, but I love language and words and meanings and etymology and metaphor and... ahem. Ennyhoo. I liked the idea.
I've never chosen the word. It's always presented itself to me - and last year was no different. Pacific was very insistent, even though I tried to argue with it. Pacific? What does that even mean? What am I supposed to do with that?
But I accepted it, and I'm glad I did. I learned about depth and calm, about storm and nurture, about faith and adventure - and about the unstoppable ocean of God's grace, that overwhelms to fill and cleanse and bring blessings unasked.
So I'm bidding pacific a very fond farewell, and welcoming spark and whatever lessons it would like to bring. I invited it in with a copper wire punctuated with tiny lights and wrapped around my mood board, and I've got an empt…