A Friday ritual.
A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week.
A simple, special, extraordinary moment.
A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.
Garden Spells by Sarah Addison Allen
I fell in love with this book.
I had grand plans for a review that would talk about magic and fantasy and why you shouldn’t flinch from a book that includes either one. I was going to link to an awesome post (Thoughts on Pratchett) and it was going to be epic and amazing.
But then, instead of sitting down and writing all that, I spent my time telling people about it. Solicited and unsolicited, at family gatherings and in e-mails at foolish times of the night I told everyone the same thing.
There is magic in this book, but just the perfect amount. The amount that brings extra vividness to a story about family. It’s beautiful writing and you’ve got to read it.
And, really, that’s all that needs to be said.
Would I recommend it? Yes! (And then I’d recommend First Frost and The Sugar Queen and possibly the rest of her books. I’m not quite sure yet as I haven’t finished reading them all but I have a feeling they are going to be excellent!)
Pressing Cider
This year we are trying something new.
Using a small cider press,
and lots of help from the children, 
we are pressing each of our individual varieties of apples separately. 
As the trees have ripened each variety has been pressed, bottled in half gallon jugs, labeled them appropriately and stored in the freezer. Now, with just a bit more planning and spreadsheet making to do, we’ll be ready to offer them for sale.
Heirloom apple juice, ready to drink or blend into unique mixes for home cider brewing!
Chicken vs Apple
Hint: The chicken wins.
And those apple pests she eats, they lose too.
As soon as we mow the grass short around the trees, the chickens are happy to help us clean up any windfalls, bugs and all, that they find lying on the ground.
Happy chickens, happy trees, happy me!
The Doctor’s Daughter by Vanessa Matthews
It’s the 1920’s in Vienna, the women are breaking out of molds, the men aren’t ready for it and the psychologists are analyzing it all. This is truly, “A dark and fascinating historical tale.”
A cover both beautiful and perfect!
The characters were dark. Very dark. They were dark with anxiety, dark with evil and dark with sadness and loss. Many of them were hard to like, some of them I loved to hate and all of them were dark.
The plot was fascinating, dark people, dark desires and dark motives made for more than a few surprises.
The historical time was equally fascinating and frustrating. “He was not convinced that women, even well-educated ones like Marta, could cope with consequences and accountability.” – The doctor of The Doctor’s Daughter was not my favorite person.
My only wish is that it had been longer. The characters and their motives were complex but there were still times that I wished the author had filled in a little more of what was in her head. Those were times that the characters’ actions didn’t seem to quite add up to what I had been told about them. I’d find myself stepping back from the flow of the story as I internally debated the believability of their actions. But, given the richness of what was told, I feel certain that information was there. It was within a backstory or a side note hiding in her mind and just didn’t make it into print.
Would I recommend it? Have I mentioned that this book was dark? It made for a hard read. Not a bad read mind you, just hard. The main character suffers from anxiety and self harms as her way of coping – it’s not for everyone. But those who are up for it will get treated to a very rich snapshot of history.
This honest review was given in return for a free copy of the book from its author.
Clara’s First Day of School
Today was the first day of school.
Ivy, entering third grade, is an old pro. She got up already excited to see her teacher, her classmates and head back to school.
Clara, getting ready for her first day ever, had been hesitantly interested up until this morning. This morning she was what I would call willfully frightened.
But, despite her best efforts, we got her up, dressed her, attempted to feed her, took the obligatory first morning photo and sent her on her way.
I’m not gonna lie, I was a bit worried about how her day would go.
After our first day alone together Jane and I walked down the driveway to meet the bus. Jane continued to tell me things. Everything, actually. Things that, apparently, she had been telling Clara but will now be telling me. I half listened, fingers mentally crossed, hoping it had been a good day as I watched Ivy and Clara climb out of the bus and break into a run.
Look at that smile!
It was a good day!
Birthday Breakfast
Today is John’s birthday.
Today, because I love him like no other, I woke early with the girls and we made his favorite breakfast together.
Today, because his girls adore him, they woke him up hours earlier than necessary to serve him breakfast in bed and shower him with gifts.
Today, my second shift working love and I were reminded that birthdays with kids are different.
Good, but different.
Happy Birthday Honey!
This Moment – Trying to Fake the Grumpies
A Friday ritual.
A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week.
A simple, special, extraordinary moment.
A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.
Three Treasures
I am a temporary, treasure repository.
At the end of the day my pockets are filled with treasure, the front of the car has extras handed up from the back and the kitchen counter has a collection of interesting things.
Some days, I get pretty rocks and precious toys.
Other days, I get small handfuls of vomit and bits of garbage.
These are the three best treasures I was given today.
An egg. 
Jane collected the eggs today and I caught her rolling the warm smoothness of them across her cheeks. Then she handed them to me with them same enthusiasm she does every morning that she gets to pluck them from their nests.
The molted shell of a cicada.
Ivy and Clara found this in their favorite climbing tree. As they hauled me out of the house to see and take custody of it, they were so giddy with excitement you never would have guessed they had found one in a similar spot the day before.
And a small duck feather.
Another find of Jane’s, she had me hold it in my pocket and randomly requested it back throughout the day.
She looked at that feather with wonder and excitement every time I gave it back to her.
It was good day to hold the treasures.
Always Wash Your Produce
Standing in the middle of the produce department of our small town grocery store, I turned to deposit the garlic bulbs in my cart just in time to see Jane finish fishing something out of her underwear.
“MOM! THIS WAS IN MY UNDERWEAR!!!”
Ivy, who, obviously, heard the comment promptly chimed in with something to the effect of:
“Oh my gosh, how did she get the Apple Jacks we just bought in her underwear?!?”
And by chimed, I mean bellowed as if she was in possession of her own personal grocery store bullhorn.
I quickly informed my children, and anyone else who may or may not have been listening, that the offending item Jane had retrieved was part of her snack from the car and promptly left the area without making eye contact.
Moral: Always wash your produce.
Behind the Willows 
