A January poem
January 22, 2012 § Leave a comment
twinkling
snow: still and white.
beyond the roar and slush of the street,
past the fence, a pasture. blanketed.
four chocolate black horses
bend their necks to nuzzle for grass.
the sky grows night blue behind them.
and in a moment I am not in
this car, not post-holiday gray,
but brushing wet velvet noses,
a little girl with periwinkle mittens
who knows, after all, that
something so beautiful
must be fraught with magic.
An excerpt, to entice you further
January 7, 2012 § Leave a comment
So the spell of the West, cast already by Mr. Grey, settled about Swede like a thrown loop. There’s magic in tack, as anyone knows who has been to horse sales, and a rubbed saddled, unexpected and pulled from nowhere, owns an allure only dolts resist. Swede’s was a double-rigged Texan with mohair cinches, tooled Mexican patterns on fender and skirt, and a hemp-worn pommel. It was well used, which I believe gave all our imaginations a pleasing slap, and it had also arrived quixotically. Davy had bought it off a farmer who’d bought it off a migrant laborer who’d traded his horse for a windbroke Dodge truck on a dirt road north of Austin; the migrant had said good-bye to his loyal beast but kept the saddle out of sentiment. Days later under northern skies he understood that its presence in the pickup only made him heartsick and he unloaded it cheap to the farmer, who, though confused by Spanish, understood burdens and the need to escape them.
All this Davy told us with Swede astride the saddle in her bedroom floor. Davy’s work had brought the thing back to near perfection; the smell of soaped leather, which is like that of good health, rose around us. It was flawed only in the cantle, where the leather had split and pulled apart. Davy acknowledged with frustration that this must’ve happened years ago and he was unable to mend it. “But it doesn’t matter for riding,” he said.
“That’s true,” Swede said practically, just as if there were a pony out waiting in the yard.
Well, the day defined extravagance. Though wisdom counsels against yanking out all stops, Swede did seem joyously forgetful of recent evils, and we kept the momentum as long as we could: waffles for breakfast, sugar lumps dipped in saucers of coffee. I remember it as October days are always remembered, cloudless, maple-flavored, the air gold and so clean it quivers.
– Leif Enger, Peace Like a River
Texture & textiles
December 31, 2011 § 1 Comment
I have been getting all caught up in Dear Genevieve, another room makeover show on HGTV that’s somehow more fun than the rest. Genevieve is so talented and rather enchanting in the way that she works with her clients and team, and I like getting drawn into the creative process of seeing what is and what can be. So I watch it while I am knitting or cooking. And I’m noticing that it affects the way I look at the world around me. Isn’t it fun how sharing perspectives and ideas can do that?
Walking the other day, I found myself noticing all different sorts of texture. Colorado is not, from my perspective, particularly colorful (despite the sign at the Nebraska/Colorado border which reads “Welcome to Colorful Colorado” – comically placed in the dry, tumbleweed, eastern plains part of the state). And this time of year, color is especially scarce. All seems shades of brown and gray, except for the blue sky and sometimes the white snow. So as we walk and I look for what is pleasing to the eye, I am drawn to nature’s textures.
I think – and Genevieve confirms! – that in designing a room texture is key – especially in rooms that use color sparingly. A white room needn’t feel sterile with the right textiles and woods to warm it and soften it. A room that involves lots of browns or dark colors can avoid being heavy or dull with the right surfaces to reflect light and maintain interest.
I love design that is nature-inspired, culture-inspired, and especially that involves reclaimed objects. I love walking through nature thinking about what I could make to reflect it. I love looking at how other people have expressed the landscapes they live in or travel through.
Here are a few of my favorite Etsy shops:
And I’ve just gotten started on Pinterest! Here’s where you can find me:
What kind of design do you like? Does nature inspire you, or do you find inspiration somewhere else? How do you decorate your homes – or dream of decorating them?
Feeding time
December 29, 2011 § Leave a comment
These days I get to see the sun set every evening that I am at the barn to feed horses. We begin when the sun is close to the mountain tops. We end in darkness. The fading light is our timer, keeping us on our toes almost as much as the horses pacing and snorting and nickering for their food.
Snowmelt
December 29, 2011 § 2 Comments
It was not a white Christmas. On Thursday Colorado got a heap of snow, and on Friday I drove out of it to a balmy, brown Iowa, and on Sunday I drove to an equally balmy, brown South Dakota.
No one complained about being outside without a jacket on, however!
Today I am back in Colorado, where we have had an interesting morning. You try moving 34 horses through a slick, sloppy mess of mud and ice – and add some powerful gusts of wind! (Forecast predicts the winds will get up to 80 mph today.) It’s a bit of a workout. At least the weather is warm. At home I poured a cup of peppermint tea, stretched out for a short rest, and decided Miss T. deserved a walk.
So we went outside to watch the snow melt.
There is sun and blue sky and water running, running everywhere. The snow sort of crunches and slides beneath your feet. We splashed through puddles at every intersection.
Miss T. gave herself a bath with more than one satisfying roll in the lingering patches of snow.
And we found evidence of snowmen . . . who had seen better days.
Despite the cone-laden evergreens, twinkly decorations, and a pile of newly-opened Christmas presents, can I just say that it feels like spring?
Riding the Neighbors’ Horses – Ebook Release!
December 13, 2011 § 8 Comments
Hey everyone! My juvenile fiction novel is available as an ebook as of today!
You can purchase it here:
The book will also be available in hard copy, hopefully later this month or early next year. Updates and excerpts to come!
Synopsis:
When twelve-year-old Susan Abbot befriends Nan and Ralph Whiting, the children of the horse trainer down the road, she has the chance to ride some of the best horses in Minnesota. But her desire to ride conflicts with her father’s distrust of horses – and the next-door neighbors who own them. In a golden 1920s summer, Susan reaches for independence, and finds she must weigh her relationships alongside her dreams.
Early morning at the barn
December 2, 2011 § Leave a comment
Here is the short, quiet moment of the morning. The first thing to see, on one of those days when the horses are greeting the day’s first light out in their runs, or standing sleepily in their stalls, and haven’t yet realized I have arrived. Soon they will notice my footsteps, or the sound of bales being lifted into wheelbarrows, and faces will come poking out from between the bars. Some of the horses will nod and toss their heads with gusto. Hello! Hurry up! Others will whinny or nicker until their hay or grain is placed in front of them. I always wonder if this is happiness or eagerness or impatience, and it is likely all three. We are hungry! It’s time for breakfast!
Thankful
November 23, 2011 § Leave a comment
Periodically I’ve sought to cultivate gratitude by making daily lists of things to be thankful for. To make a practice of counting my blessings. I start with the best of intentions, and eventually fall out of the habit. And how easy it is to look around and unconsciously count reasons for discontent.
Each day of the month of November, my friend Amy has been posting something for which she is thankful. Can I just say how refreshing this has been? Facebook frequently becomes so rampant with complaints, questionable and controversial political or ideological statements, and (at least in my circles) details of parenting frustrations and bliss that I can hardly stand it, and wonder why I continue to log in and scroll through. Amy’s posts have made me stop and feel glad for at least a few seconds of each day. (Thanks, Amy – I’m thankful for you and your November postings!)
I could give you a long list of things I wish I had, things I wish I’d done differently, things I feel I rather deserve after working my bum off throughout college . . . and high school . . . and middle school . . . heck, even elementary. Life does not seem fair at times and it isn’t. But then, there are people suffering from much greater injustices than mine, and there is much that I have and perceive as “normal” that is really a privilege. So. This is the day before Thanksgiving, and I am not home with family, and I am not hosting anyone, and I am not following around darling babies wearing booties I made for them. But I can be glad, and grateful.
And here are some of the reasons:
1. I have wonderful family members who love each other. I speak to all of them at least once a week. With my mother, almost daily. And all of them put up with my big ideas, my joyous hopes, my disappointments, my ramblings that dissolve into tears. What a fortunate thing it is to have a father who lets you cry in front of him, a mother who counsels you through despair and encourages your dreams, a sister who gets excited about various projects and ideas and often jumps in, a brother who can fix anything and doesn’t mind just talking when you’re lonely, and another brother who is so happy to hear your voice he just has to keep telling you how much he likes having you as his sister.
2. My sweet dog. I can’t tell you how many times I am stroking her soft ears and looking at her face and thinking what a good girl she is, and how much she has gone through with me. She is my constant friend. She goes where I go. She runs with me. She sits close to me on dark nights. I am so glad I didn’t listen to everyone who said it wasn’t wise to get a dog when you were in graduate school and you weren’t settled. Especially a big dog. This dog was meant to be mine, this happy, triangle-eyed, tennis-ball-obsessed golden retriever.
3. New things to learn. Thank you to all the people who have encouraged me to look at the world with curiosity, and to try out what it had to offer, and even to look beyond what was to see the possibilities of what could be.
4. Good food! And the people who are dedicated to it. Farmers, chefs, single guys and girls in apartments, dads and moms feeding little ones. Those working at food banks, soup kitchens, and community gardens. This national excitement about food is, I think, about to significantly change our society. I can feel it. I believe in it.
5. Nonprofits. Isn’t it great that there are places that can employ us to do good things?
6. Horses. They’re just beautiful. And I get to visit them, handle them, appreciate them almost every day.
7. My friends! Did I really wait till Number 7 to think of this? How lucky I have been to have gathered dear friends almost every place that I have lived, and how lucky that many of them have kept in touch, despite the different directions our lives have taken. I appreciate you guys! Thanks for sharing your lives with me. (And especially thanks to Amanda and Tyler and Tyler’s family this Thanksgiving, who are inviting me into their circle so I won’t be alone on this day of feasting.)
8. Co-workers that I like and get along with. This can’t be overlooked! I find it makes such a difference in daily life.
9. Clothes to wear. Kinda cute ones, even. It seems silly, but it isn’t.
10. Poetry & art. Keep spinning those words, writers. Keep snapping those stunning photos, photographers. Keep painting and stitching and scrapbooking and doing whatever you all do to make something expressive and gorgeous for those who know you, and those who are lucky enough to discover you.
11. And finally, most importantly, my faith. I know it isn’t something everyone will share, and I wouldn’t presume to make anyone feel they ought to. Belief in anything is so personal, and everyone must work out what they believe in their own time and in their own way. But I can’t help mentioning how glad I am for grace, and for a God whose primary purpose is to love us and teach us to love each other.
So then. Thank you, world. It feels now like the natural and right thing to do is help give other people reason to be thankful. Doesn’t it?
Feast well, friends. Love even better.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Where do you create?
November 17, 2011 § Leave a comment
Keep sending in those photos! I’m curious to see the places that you claim for your creative projects. (Click here for the initial post about this request and giveaway.)
You might also mention what specific kinds of art, crafts, trades, and projects you like to do in your creative place. . . from making snowflake cookies in the kitchen to shaping wooden spindles in the back shed, from sketching in the office to collecting scraps of fabric from thrift stores.
What’s in it for you? Why take the time to snap and send a picture? In addition to building the artistic community simply by sharing with one another, (1) the first people to submit will receive packets of blue pumpkin seeds, and (2) each person who sends a photo or two will be entered in a drawing for a copy of Storey Publishing’s Country Wisdom Almanac: 373 Tips, Crafts, Home Improvements, Recipes, and Homemade Remedies. Send your photos to birchbark (dot) erica (at) gmail (dot) com.
I’ll be checking my inbox . . .
Amen, sister!
November 14, 2011 § 2 Comments
That’s what my roommate said when I read her this excerpt from farmer/writer Jenna Woginrich’s blog, Cold Antler Farm:
The morning started with a two-hour interview with a journalist from New York City. She was writing a book on the resurgence of domestic arts and DIY culture across America and the role of homemakers. We had a good talk, and I showed her around the farm. By the time she was packed up and waving out the driveway, I realized I had never thought about many of her questions before she asked them. She wanted to know about my thoughts on feminism and homesteading, about the role of women, about trend in suburban moms getting chickens and herb gardens. Some of the answers surprised me, and I realized how much of a traditionalist I am at heart. I might be a woman with her own empire, but at the end of the day I just want to be taken care of, and take care of things. I want this because I feel like it’s my biological right as a member of my sex, and because it makes me happy. I don’t think wanting to be a wife or mother makes me any less a feminist than wanting to be a welder or an Air force Pilot. Nor do I dare say my desires should be anyone else’s. But when it all comes down to it: I’m a simple gal. If I ever find the right man I’ll happily get hitched, take his last name, and stay home to take care of the kids and dinner. I got the 14th amendment and a mortgage with my name on it. I’m all set.
I think I smiled and repeated that Amen. You can read the rest of the post here.
Here’s a somewhat related magazine publication: Darling Magazine
And here’s a hardly related, but totally darling song: Amen by Eden's Edge
And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to play with two dogs, make a loaf of pumpkin bread, feed and water 34 horses, buy some paint, and craft a display to go over the fireplace.
Kinds of Honey 