Falling off my Bicycle

Has it happened to you?

You've been enjoying a bike ride for quite awhile and you're in the groove. You hit a bump in the road, maybe get distracted by something along the way, you swerve, and - Bam! You're wiping the gravel with your body.

Trying to get upright as quickly as you can, you raise your woozy head, start brushing the grit away, and start to think about whether you'd like to give that 'ol bicycle another try.

The object and activity now seem perilous.

And then you hear your mother's voice, " You get right back up on that bicycle, honey.  Everybody falls, but not everybody learns to get back on the saddle and ride again.  Take courage dear one - you'll be okay!"

If writing is like bike riding, I'm trying to get back at it.

Metaphorically, I've fallen off my bike in a myriad of ways this summer.  I've already alluded to the necessity of attending to family life and relationships, and that takes an astonishing amount of extra energy and time.

But, there's been other things- not bad things- that have made the ride adventuresome and found me wiping dirt out of my knees more than once.

Double the size of your garden, praise the Lord for plenteous rain, plant row upon row, and Voila! you've tripled your work in the sun and soil, but also in the kitchen.

Partner with your Weekend Farmer Hubby in installing a new range, car repairs, emergency electric fence interventions, chasing cows back home,  a professional day job, raising and processing hundreds of chickens, fundamentally preparing to change how you've home educated, and by the time an amber sunset spills itself over the pastures, you're beyond tired and can think only of bed and the restoration of sleep. I couldn't write a sentence if I tried.

Fun things like mini weekend vacations, a standing Thursday playday at the lake, 's'mores night on Wednesday, campouts in the yard that turn into extended sleepovers, outdoor swimming lessons - you know, the things that can only happen in summer - have been filling our days.

Add in driver's training, full time work for the oldest farm boys, races to spectate, mission trips to pray for, "mom, I hope it's ok, but I've made a plan for..." somewhat regularly from the teens/young adult offspring.  Gah!

And, this one's "my fault" - I'm enjoying the creativity, community, and inspiration from Instagram. It's easy to spend five minutes here, two minutes there...it adds up.

In the end, my brain is spinning, not my wheels.
And I can't keep upright.

So, what do I say to all this, dear friends?  What is your counsel to me as a writer? As a friend on this same journey?

I think I know.
Whenever I can, and for however long I can, dust this keyboard off, and ride. Uhm. Write.
It's not just for writers, correct?  It's for all of us who endeavor to do the next thing, try something big, cultivate new skills, or seize opportunities.

Just like those of you who've ever enjoyed a bike ride, when the time is right, you'll pick up where you left off, it'll all come back, and although the risk of falling is always present, you'll spend more time on the road than in the gravel.

Me too.

Ride on.

xoxo,
Laura

It's all so Daily

Long before her art and style became internationally recognized and quickly popular, I had collected a few prints of Mary Engelbreit's work. Her lively, whimsical, and color saturated style has always been appealing to me and when combined with my first love, words, the draw remains irresistible.

Many moons ago she released a calendar with the title, "Life is just so Daily".  True Dat.

Image found here.

I may or may not appear to be and actually function in a less frazzled manner than the image suggests, but nonetheless, this picture and these words resonate!

Continual adjustment to this season of two adult, two teen, one elementary, and one preschool age offspring in our home challenges me to my outer limits.  But, please, oh please, do not hear that as negative.  It is a JOY to share these days with them.  

Family life, farm life, professional life - all of these currents ride like rapids and the thrill factor is high.  As you might imagine, life as a constant white water ride requires all our attention.

Fortunately, in all this "dailiness" it's easy to snap photos along the way.

Confession - I haven't taken pictures of the messy barn, the boys laundry pile teetering over six feet high in the corner of their bedroom (so not kidding), the overflowing kitchen sink, or the stinky pile of shoes right inside the back door.

You all know about that stuff, right?

I wouldn't withhold it from you if you really want to see it.  I am never ashamed or wishing to hide the impact of our daily life.

But, we do get to choose what we think about, yes?

I have a tendency toward the negative.  I'm critical.  I am too quick to judge.

And I miss beautiful messes.

When I miss the beautiful mess, I miss all the other kinds of beauty.

The camera keeps me connected, and helps me to see tiny but real slices of our life and the breathtaking beauty of an abundant life.

Join in, won't you?  Savor the light.  Drink deep of the colors.  Remember these sweet fleeting days, and let the images cultivate gratitude for the beauty of the earth, the glory of the skies, the undeserved gifts of relationship, and the grace upon grace that persists at Liberty Farm.

xoxo,

Laura

Pssst- might you like to follow along on Instagram? It's a fun easy way to stay connected in all this dailiness!

She Wakes! (And little glimpses of life on Liberty Farm)

I don't even know if I can understand or explain my absence here.

I ache with it.  I snatch at fragments of time, and even those slip through my fingers.
The blog sleeps, but I dream of writing.

I have words oozing out my pores - I imagine myself as some sort of X-men mutant,with newsprint for skin and a haze of dangling participles billowing in my personal space just waiting to make sense and arrange themselves into readable thoughts.

And, yet I do not write.
Not for lack of interest or writers block.
Today - enough!
Seizing the moment, I wake in this space, and offer up a paltry but grateful handful of sentences.

I can surmise that a busy spring on this Green Acres has left me with hundreds of photos and no time to chronicle with words.

I suppose the increasing demands of Weekend Farmer Husband's employment and the busyness of my older children keeps me cooking, cleanin', and running the show rather than journaling.

And, there's been an eruption of relational needs.  And they've been painful.  And hard. And suffocating.  And I'm okay, and so is the farm family, our faith being further forged, and God acting in love and the constancy of His character has preserved us. But, there's no margin so only the necessary is accomplished.

Even so, life marches on.
And it's good.

The farm flourishes and the season is flush with it's fullness.

Spring is in wild bloom, it came late and after the preceding year's extreme drought and heat, we savor long.

Understanding that this too shall pass, I stop, write it down, give thanks and carry on.
xoxo,

Laura

***(Consider following me on Instagram?  It's a lovely way to keep up, grow friendship, and share community.)***

Reluctant Quiet

Quiet here.

I find quiet challenging.
My thought life is always "noisy", and writing, being with you, editing photos, and bearing testimony to the good news of the gospel in my life is something I crave. It helps cultivate the "noisy" into something productive.  Redeemed, maybe?

I'm trying to make my peace with no time to write, no chance to make connections here.
I've somewhat always subscribed to the truism that you make time for what's important - how can I have so many important things that keep me away from other important things?

I don't particularly join in the camp of mommies needing to make time for themselves, but I do think some things do need to have hierarchy, or a balance of priority in our lives.  Like brushing my teeth.
(Which, some days, seems too much, frankly.)

So far in this quiet I've kept my commitment to exercise regularly, read well (much to my chagrin it's been mostly online - books are much better for me), and keep some sort of sleep schedule.

Somebody's been practicing tying knots on momma's shoes!

But, that seems to be all the discretionary time I have.
I have to admit I'm a little nervous about this as we've got nothing in the ground, since our Northern climate has yet to yield to warmth, and we have very few animals on the farm.  We need our pastures to "wake up" in order to feed them!

If I can't wiggle my schedule around now (with fewer commitments), how will I ever make it through our busy season?

A long winter/late spring is keeping us cooped up, and I think to some degree is the culprit in a perpetual cycle of both low level and acute illness that keeps visiting us. I should not underrate the impact of always having illness in the home.  None of it is serious.  All of it exacts it's price.

Gah- the price, appears for now, to be quiet.
So, I'm reluctantly paying up.
Trusting that the ticker tape of words that scrolls just behind my eyeballs will be just as vital when it comes time to write it down as it was when it first appeared.

Tending to our home, serving the needs of viral achy bodies, cultivating patience, and making peace with quiet are the markers on the trail right now.

Time to get my boots on and start walking the journey of another day.