an ice globe!

I've been playing some more with the ice luminaries. If you live anywhere where the thermometer dips below 32, you've got to give this a shot. I can't explain how satisfying it is to make something so pretty out of a season that is so seriously cold. I had told my nieces that when life gives you sub zero temperatures, you make ice globes. My sister-in-law Sara called these luminaries 'a protest of beauty' and that is exactly how I feel about them. It feels so right to be making something awesome out of this very cold weather.

So the first time I tried making an ice globe, I got bowls, because half of the balloon was insulated in the snow. It wasn't what I was going for, but I loved them. They were magical all lit up at night. But I still wanted to attempt the dome thing. So this time I filled a huge water ballon again and set it on a kitchen tray out in the driveway.

I set it out there for four hours at -5 degrees. And when I came back I could feel that it was solid enough to cut open. I'll have to get this next part on video because it was so awesome, but when I cut into the balloon that little air pocket at the top (visible in the first picture of the purple balloon above) spurted like a fountain, and all of the water inside gushed out. The balloon slinked back and the rest of the water inside the ice (that hadn't frozen yet) fell out of the bottom.

But I knew I had a success, because I had a globe, and a chimney! I hadn't been able to figure out how I was going to drill a hole into the top of the dome for the candle to breathe, but that little tiny bit of air left in the water balloon when I filled it was enough to make the ice in that top spot that much weaker, so that the water chose to burst out right there.

I have a dream of lining our driveway or something with a whole bunch of these. Or a tiered little art piece? If we had a deck, I'd line the rail. Or...build a Chili Snow Fort around the picnic table with these lighting the meal. Could you imagine?!!

an ode to the mothers of wintertime

On Sunday I was running into Fleet Farm behind Rory and Ivar. I had Elsie on the hip, my purse and a caribou coffee. Elsie kept sliding down because our poof jackets are both so slippery. And as I hobbled towards the store, waving with my coffee to the car that stopped for me, I had this swell of Minnesota pride. I thought, “dang. we are seriously tough in this state.” My cheeks were frozen, Elsie was gasping for air and we finally made it into the warm store. I must have made some sort of whooping sound, because people were looking at me when I walked in. I smiled and wanted to celebrate with them, "Hello! I made it!"

Rory and Ivar were already pushing through the aisles, and Elsie insisted she sit in the big part of our cart. She quickly took off her boots, coat, hat, hair bow and made herself at home. And it was then that I discovered that a kids boot, up in the front basket snug between a big purse and the side of the cart, makes for a perfectly stable coffee cup holder.

There are some things only the mothers of wintertime know. Discovering this kids-boot-turned-coffee-cozy made me feel like I had found yet another secret survival skill for these bitter cold days.

Then today I put a picture up on Instagram of our barn, nearly invisible at 2 pm because of the blizzard that was happening in our farm yard. We get awesome drifts here because there is no grove where the main barn used to be. The wind was incredible, and just as I posted this picture, someone posted a picture of their feet in flip flops out for a walk with their kid in a stroller.

The two images side by side struck me dumb. For I haven't been out of the house since Sunday, the day we went to Fleet Farm. I've been hibernating, attempting to do my workout video with two eager exercise helpers ("mom, you're supposed to touch your toes. like she does it."), cooking stew, creamy pastas and soup. Seeing this other picture reminded me that some people raise their children in milder climates. Some people take their kids for walks wearing flip flops on January 8th.

But then I remembered the lesson from Sunday, and came to one helpful conclusion: you can't make a coffee-cozy out of a flip flop.

Add that to the pros list of living in the snowy-blowy land of winter.

Obviously none of this is meant to discredit any mom raising their kids in warmer climates. Motherhood is a ride no matter what the weather. I'm just here to say for the record: the mothers of wintertime are tough stuff.

part 2: brightening the night

There is more to the story about the night we delivered thank you notes for beautiful christmas light displays. And it was only after I was telling my friends Jon and Ali that I realized how worthy of a second blog post that night actually was.

Because it actually went down like this. The second house we stopped at had it's curtains pulled, but I was spotted walking to the door. So I felt obligated to ring the doorbell, lest they think I'm creepy. Everyone inside yelled, "Come in! It's open! Come on in!" I think they thought I was someone else. When I did open the door I had to talk fast because there was a dad on the couch getting his hair gelled in every direction by three middle school girls. He said, "Like my hair?" And the boys on the couch all laughed. I had walked into some family gathering of cousins and kids and a dad with awesome hair. And then I had to explain myself, "Hi. I'm out with my kids tonight and they loved your christmas lights, so we wrote this little note..." They were gracious and I was quick to exit.

I got back to the car and told Rory about the cousin party and he was growing in his own discomfort of this whole thank you note idea. He said, "you can't ring the doorbell. Just tape the note and leave."

So the next house I did that. But again I was spotted, so by the time I got back to the car, the lady had her body half out her front door, "Can I help you?!!" "Oh, right. I just taped a little thank you note for your pretty christmas lights. I'm out with my family and my kids really loved your big tree..."

The next house I was ready. I would tape and leave. Tape it and leave.

This house was close to ours, out in the country. It was kind of a cabin style house with a driveway that made a horse shoe all the way around the back side. I walked to the front door, closest to the road. But it seemed more like a back porch. Rory agreed and drove me to the back of the house, where we saw a little patio that led to sliding glass doors. I got out, walked onto the patio and knocked on the glass.

And then I processed what my eyes were seeing.

I was gazing into a master bedroom. The closet was wide open. And so was the master bathroom, where a woman stood in panty hoes and a shirt, curling her hair.

A huge dog was barking on the other side of the sliding door and an adult daughter was trying to wrestle it into the hallway to close it out so she could open the door to let me in.

And I just had to stand there, processing all that I was peeping into, while slowly acknowledging in my head, "Rory was so right. He was so right. Tape it and Leave." But there I was.

The daughter opened the door and the mom came to the door too. And I started up my sorry story, "Hi, my kids and I are out for a drive looking at christmas lights, and they love yours on your house and wanted you to have this award..."

I used the word award. Because it seemed a bigger deal, necessitating my standing on their back patio that looked into their bedroom on a dark winters night.

And maybe it was because she was in her nylons getting ready for a fun party, or maybe it was because my pitch was so awkward, or maybe it was because she just wanted me off of her deck, but this lady acted so grateful and pleased at the award she had just won. By my two and four year old.

I got in the car and told Rory to, "drive. now. please."

And he didn't laugh nearly as hard as I did. His discomfort was palpable.

But I still got one more house out of him. We drove up to a dark house, except for the stunning outline in colorful lights all around the roof lines. I walked up to the unlit front door, confident no one was home. And as I taped the envelope to the door of this isolated country front door, the large dog that I hadn't noticed woke up beside me, stood tall and started to sniff me out. And I graciously explained to him, "I'm just leaving this award on your door, because we like your lights and I'm going to leave, see, I'm leaving, so..."

And then I told Rory we could call it a night.

Oh we have laughed about this. I still stand by this idea as a quality one. It's got some kinks to be sure, but I still think it's novel and fun.

And now when we drive past the house with the horse shoe driveway Rory tells us all to, "wave to mrs. pantyhose, kids!"

my 2015 one-little-word

It's my favorite way to start a new year. To pick one little word to focus on all year long. Last year I chose the word Anticipation, recognizing my role in making fun events to anticipate on the calendar. It was another long winter and I was able to see how my choices and plans and creativity led to fun events, outings and things to look forward to.

The funny thing is that I wasn't mindful of my word hardly at all this year. I even had to look it up to see what it was. But looking back over the past year we did a lot that created a lot of Anticipation. We held lots of big events at The Grovestead: a tree tapping party, honeyfest, a wiener roast, a corn feed, a few work days and countless picnics. We went on two vacations this summer, one to Mount Carmel and one to the North Shore. We had lots of exciting deliveries to anticipate: honey bees, apple trees, a wood stove, blueberry bushes, a tractor, baby chicks, two little kittens (though they were not anticipated! A total surprise!)

But all in all, Anticipation was a great word for the year. We lived it. There were few dull moments. And 2014 was filled with people, projects and productivity.

My one-little-word for 2015 was very slow in coming, but I landed on a good one. And I think this word has the power to change me from the inside out.

For Christmas, my mom gave me the book Jesus Calling by Sarah Young. For years I have had people rave about this book and how much it has changed them, to the point of annoyance. For real. I had become sort of skeptical just based on the crazy following this book had. But this summer, while in the Mount Carmel bookstore with my mom, I picked it up, told her about all the people who have told me to read it, and she asked if I wanted it for Christmas. So six months later, I opened it up.

And every day since I have been opening to the next page for a short little note written based on scripture, in the voice of Jesus, telling me all the truths and realities written in his word that are for me. It is like taking a deep inhale of oxygen.

I have become one of the crazy fans of this book. And if I had money unending, I'd send you a copy right to your doorstep.

The subtitle of the book is "Enjoying Peace in His Presence."

And I suppose that phrase could be my one-little-word. Because that is my goal.

I think I've written about all of these things before, but I'm going to say them all again, because they're my struggles that don't seem to go away. I always wonder if I'm doing enough. I have friends I went to the seminary with who are mothers and pastors and somehow make that work. And I'm in awe, and on hard days envious of their outlet to preach and teach. But in all honesty, I don't feel called to that vocation right now. I have friends who have great jobs and sometimes I envy the thought of a workplace and a lunch break.

This is a super sensitive subject because all moms make their own decisions based on thousands of variables unique to their own situation. But I'm just here to say from where I stand, it is also hard to be a stay-at-home mom, wondering if I should be doing more. Especially because every book written on motherhood is by a mom with a platform. Someone who somehow had enough time to write a book. And go on a speaking circuit. And speak at seminars. There are countless blogs and instagram feeds devoted to goal setting, living your life fully, executing huge projects. And it becomes hard to believe that just staying at home with my kids, putting one foot in front of the other, is enough.

I get itchy in my skin wondering, "should I open an etsy shop? should I start a podcast? will I fall behind if I don't build a brand, a following, an audience?" And I only wonder those things because those options are visibly lived out on the blogs I read and feeds I follow.

So those words: Enjoying Peace in His Presence feel like a wave of freedom. It feels like a little side door exit to leave the crazy mind-games of 'Am I doing enough?' And says instead, 'You are enough.'

This year, my one little word has less to do with doing, and much more to do with being. Being present. Feeling God's presence. Enjoying his Peace when I'm feeling insecure and wondering if I'm living my life fully enough. Recognizing His Presence in every part of my life. To feel filled up by God daily.

I expect that with these intentions 2015 will be a year of personal revival. It has to be, because the Bible promises that when you're drawing near to God he'll draw near to you. And I want him near to me. Filling me with the Peace of his Presence. If you want to join me, click here to get your copy of Jesus Calling. It's $10 and so, so good.

ice luminaries

I had my sister's three girls for an overnight on Monday. And since they are my most supportive side-kicks for any project I suggest, we tend to get crafty. Our time together usually starts with a little browse through pinterest deciding what we are going to do, make, build or sew. 

But this time I got my idea from a newspaper article my mom had cut out for me. It showed these ice globes and told enough of the how-to's that I knew we had-to. We ran to Target and bought the balloons, came back home and started our project by filling up 20 very large water balloons at the kitchen sink. A perfect project for a very enthused group of girls.

I loaded up two big storage tubs and took them outside in the -8 degree night. One by one, I lifted each balloon and placed it on the snow. The plan was for them to freeze all the way around, from the outside in. But I had no idea snow is such a tremendous insulator! Five hours later, in sub zero weather, the bottoms of the balloons still had not frozen.

But I was frozen. And I wasn't going to stay up any later watching water freeze. So, working very quickly, I cut the balloon off  the top of the frozen dome, and let the water gush out the bottom, flipped it over and found I had a bowl.

The next morning it was even colder and Mara and I worked hard moving the bowls to the picnic table and placing tea lights in the middle. We actually had to go inside a few times to warm up our legs...it was brutal. But totally worth it!

I'm inspired and excited to keep experimenting. Maybe I'll put the balloons on the driveway, and see if they freeze all the way around. I'm not sure. But I do love having a new winter hobby that brightens these long, cold nights!