#attunedpracticetuesdays: where we share the rituals and routines that are aligned with our sense of peace and wellbeing A couple of months ago, while working on a commission project , I started a new practice. I was listening to audio books while working since the project required my eyes but not my full attention, and since it was fairly labor intensive, I took the weekends off (not something I would normally do). Lacking something to do with my hands, the first Saturday I decided to put my speedy reading to good use and read a novel in one sitting (my preferred method, anyway). Then I read another novel the next Saturday. And now it has becomes a weekly thing. The only rule is that it has to be fiction - I read enough non fiction that a novel a week isn't going to hurt anything (and it wouldn't anyway, reading is reading). Helping out with Paper Heart Books and attending a bring-your-own-book-club meeting last week helped restock my dwindling supply. I like to get hard cop...

October is the Month of Fun Outings. The weather is generally pleasant, many things are less crowded than they are in summer because school has started back, and there are also an array of local events. We try to make the most of it, since I got used to not getting sick while we stayed in for a couple years so now we ride out the germiest months at home. But before that, we frolic. We'll miss our favorite fall festival due to scheduling conflict, but there will be a small one at my eldest's dance studio, and we're all going to the state fair this year. There are street fairs and at some point soon we'll go and each choose a pumpkin to stack on the front step five deep, and my littlest will name each family member while pointing at their pumpkin every time we go in or out the door.  I've started leaving windows open at night, and sometimes it's been cool enough to have them open during the day, too. My desk candle has expanded to three candles on a cheese board b...

I recently looked up the rest of the Mary Oliver poem that ends in "tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" because that was the only part I had ever heard, and it turns out the rest of The Summer Day  is about going for a walk and lying about in the grass. That's what she planned to do with her one wild and precious life. I feel like it gets misapplied a lot. As the weather grows cooler, I've been thinking about foraging, as a concept. I am a terrible gardener. Even as a child I loathed getting up early and tramping through the dewy grass to the dusty garden to water and pull weeds. As an adult, I stumbled onto the one plant that likes the climate of my front windows but claim no personal credit for their flourishing. If we ever move I may have to leave them here, to ensure their survival. There's also a pot of mint by my front step that survives on rain water or when one of the kids points out that it's a bit crunchy. Plants...

  Balance is sometimes a step with the left then a step with the right again and again but sometimes balance is sitting down on a bench instead of passing it because you've passed so many on your way.

I love making life fun and beautiful. One of the happiest choices I made recently was to color block my Instagram feed so that each month/sun sign is a sequential color of the rainbow. Another was to start eating lunch at a local food truck stop - not just on the days when my favorite truck is there, but just going every day they're open and eating whatever is there. I've tried lots of new things and liked them all (currently topping the favorites list is curry noodles from the Thai truck). Because the only problem with making life fun and beautiful is that it takes a lot of thought and effort, or at minimum noticing what's around. And by the time I've created a school schedule/curriculum plan for the Bigs that has them talking about how much they love school and added in fun extras like celebrating Butterfly Day or going to the state fair, there's not a lot of brainpower left for anything else. Someone on Twitter mentioned the other day that she'd like to hav...

  Big gay sweater, complete! I am actually incredibly proud of this one. I worked off the original pattern and a favorite store bought sweater provided by the client and created a garment that both looks good and fits well. I figured out how to taper the shoulders, and how to shape the sleeves gently, and despite my initial misgivings over making what could have been a very clunky and unflattering garment, I produced something I don't mind pointing at and saying "yeah, I'm the one who made that!" (I also made it in eight days, finishing a month before the requested deadline, because there was a concern about needing more supplies and I wanted there to be time to order more... I ended up having plenty of yarn, and then had a forced week off afterward because my shoulder went on strike). A fun side project I got to do (after my shoulder came back online) was testing some friendship bracelet patterns for ShelliCan . I really liked making friendship bracelets as a kid -...

I tend to think about things... a lot. I  would not call myself an "over thinker," as it is my opinion that I think precisely the correct amount for any given situation - but an objective observer might disagree. Part of the reason I do that is because I enjoy thinking, because I don't like the consequences of under thinking something, and also because I am conditioned to place a certain degree of moral value on Thinking Thoughtfully. By nature, I am also aware of my capacity to not  think, and I try not to overindulge that aspect of myself. But in the interest of seeking balance, I've done a few exercises in releasing control recently. The first was going in a local bookstore and announcing my intention to choose a book by its cover (this prompt was externally driven, and was not my original idea). I don't think I've ever seen booksellers so excited as those two ladies were. They promptly had a semi-whispered discussion on the ethics of deliberately facing so...

Ah, balance. At this point you would think that I would have learned, from experience, that I cannot choose the way in which I will learn something new... and yet. Here we are. At the end of a week which I spent with a repetitive stress injury (from completing a project in a self imposed but still unreasonable amount of time), unable to hold a pen, a needle, a hook, a book, my phone... and unable to sit or sleep comfortably. I've walked slowly around the house, selecting items to donate or throw away, with my left hand - because that is all I could do. My sleep data looks like Morse code, sent by a newbie who left long pauses while looking up how to do each letter in between transmissions. So I still plan to write about choosing books by their covers, my new favorite lunch spot, and other aspects of controlled balance - but I'm doing so more humbly than I did in my journaled monthly outline, with more openness to whatever lessons the Universe might choose to hand me (please, th...

All three shelves in a white cabinet with a glass front and a splashing painting above it (shades of brown splattering a green striped cup) are dedicated to mugs I choose one with care matching it to my mood to the day to the tea I'll brew in it The tea itself another quest of local sources new flavors and old favorites Usually black and strong and spiced with sugar or honey and milk full of heat  and energy Sometimes I need the emotional warmth rather than the physical so I hold it and enjoy its scent until it goes cold in my hands Sometimes I talk through tea instead of words or take a sip instead of saying something It's good to stop and think and listen but there is also a time to speak.

Something that I hear a lot is a variation on "I love how you said that." There have been times when that has annoyed me. Times when I felt like the person I really wanted to reach wasn't listening, or like the complimented line had drifted into someone's ears while they were skimming stations and had arrived without any of the other things I was trying to say. I talked less. I wrote less. But it still came up. Thirteen years ago a clear and obvious direction laid in front of me, a path that had been set up for me my entire life. And I didn't take it. I stepped off onto a sideroad, convinced that the obvious route was some sort of trap. Because I poured everything I had into that new route (including a sizable amount of trust in a Divine desire for my good), within three years I had done the impossible. I went from the bottom of the industry, to what I considered the top (even if the top was a temporary position. I had a desk and I did the job, it counts). Then I ...

Monthly maker post! First up, something I'm really pleased with: this Churchmouse Simple Tee  that I knit out of Woolfolk Flette that I had bought for a different project that ended up falling through. I didn't finish it in time for a museum photoshoot , but there are a pretty locations here, too. (This one was also conveniently located across the street from my favorite local coffee shop.) While there are a selection of simple tee options (both free and paid), I ultimately chose this one because I've knit some other Churchmouse designs and I trust them to have well written patterns with thoughtful details. This did not disappoint - it was beautifully simple, and there was no extra finishing after the main pieces were complete. That clean collar line and nice edge on the sleeve happened in process, which I really appreciate. I used the Flette, because I liked it and even though it was nothing like any of the recommended yarns, I still somehow got exact gauge. It was an enjo...

Last year I had the wonderful idea to plan a yearly surprise anniversary trip - I choose the destination and itinerary, and give him dates and a packing list. Since Juniper was still nursing and had to come along, we drove to Saint Louis for two nights. We saw the arch, walked around a sculpture garden, ate delicious local food, got doughnuts on our last morning, and had a nice enough time to solidify the tradition as worthy of repeating. I intended to fly to Seattle this year ("where is the furthest away we can get without leaving the US/flying over another country/crossing an ocean?") but alas. We kicked off nine years with the first of a series of meetings with a counselor (because communication is hard, especially when you live with the person you're miscommunicating with) then went on a modified, pandemic-friendly trip. (There really aren't any precautions that would make me comfortable getting in a metal tube full of recirculated air and people right now.) If t...

I've been focusing on emotional development with the Littles of late (mostly infinite variations on "do unto others as you would have them do unto you, yes, even that person, yes, even in that situation"). One thing that has come up a lot is communication gaps. I have one who struggles to say the words, wanting others to read their mind and becoming frustrated over the inevitable incorrect guesses. And I have one who struggles to do the words, having heard the expressed desire of someone else but really determined to continue on their own path, regardless of who they might run over in the process. Natural consequences are an incomplete solution, as one is an extrovert who will forgive many indignities rather than be alone and the other is sensitive and doesn't like people to feel hurt, which generally leads to the wronged child making the adjustments (not a behavior I necessarily want to encourage). So we listen, and we talk. I have strong feelings about balanced co...