with goggles and a knife.
Or some of us do.
Yesterday, I announced distractedly to the bodies in the kitchen with me — “I need someone to cut onions for me while I shred carrots.”
A few minutes later, I looked up and saw that TWO able bodies had responded to my general call for help. And they came fully prepared to face the onions without shedding a tear.
Hmmm . . . there is something about a man in goggles, prepared to face the onion.
A bit nerdy. Definitely manly. And very, very sweet.
I finally decided to remove the doors under the sink and put up curtains. I have deeply pondered this move for 5 years, so it was time to do it. I planned to hang 2 plain burlap curtains —- fast and simple.
Then an imaginative little girl sat on the floor in front of the sink and wondered how beautiful it would look to have horses on the curtains . . . . .
that he CAN cut onions with minimal discomfort after all.
It just takes a little ingenuity.
there are too many things to do . . . . . .but they are things that I WANT to do.
- homeschool my children
- roast and freeze pumpkin
- experiment with growing spinach and broccoli through the winter
- increase my kids cooking skills
- clean my kitchen
- sew orange valances for my bedroom (Yep, I said orange. I know, I can’t believe it either)
- organize my pantry
- deep clean and re-organize the schoolroom AGAIN!
- do art projects with the kids
- eat roasted pumpkin seeds with my favorite man while watching a flick
So life is full and life is good and never, ever boring.
Funny how I can let myself feel overwhelmed by all I “have” to do, when in reality, I don’t “have” to do anything. I have chosen my path, and am so fortunate that I was able to do so.
Yesterday morning, I forced myself to slow down and see my good fortune with the camera (one of the reasons I love blogging):
Lincoln and Rachel are making leftover oatmeal muffins. Rachels is wearing my Grandma’s apron and her brother’s cap.
Prairie was not about to be left out, so I gave her the job of refilling the salt containers. Giving a 3-year-old useful work is the perfect use for a 50-lb bag of sea salt, wouldn’t you say?
I also took pictures of the disaster that was my kitchen. You can’t really see it in these photos, but trust me . . . . . . . .crumbs on all counters and on the floor, leftover roasted pumpkin skins from the night before dirty dishes and dirty milk jugs everywhere. I had planned on posting those disaster kitchen pictures to set the context for the lovely pics above, lest I give anyone the faulty impression that I regularly have 3 children help me in the kitchen (while the fourth works industriously in the schoolroom AND maintain a clean house at all times).
But those pictures mysteriously didn’t turn out. Which is just as well, because I am clinging to the memory of my littlest one’s desire to help, my red-haired girl in Grandma’s apron and my boy’s eagerness to make our breakfast muffins. And if my eldest was not exactly being industrious in the schoolroom, he WAS working on school. These are the memories worth dwelling in my heart.