Living-Deliberately.com

This morning I opened my eyes to greet the day at my eastern window and there streaking the sky was a resplendant sunrise, all pale blue and yellow and pink.

Last night there was a little “dream come true” moment when I was outside long after dark, searching in the cold for the baby’s “donkey”, and happened to look up and see the blackest of skies punctuated with white stars. I’ve always wanted to live out far enough from a city to see stars and now that I do I find I’m so busy I’m rarely out there in it. It was a still night; wood smoke and cold air, the contrast of that black and white above, and it felt sacred indeed.

The title line is from “What a Wonderful World”, one of my absolute favorites. I had always kind of liked it and then when Clara was in the hospital and we were in that “holding pattern” of not being sure if she was healing or dying, the words of the song came to me and I darkly wondered if there ever would come a day when I would think it was a wonderful world again. A year and half later, 1:20 in the morning, I sat in a tub of water having birthed a little red-faced boy and we played that song. Only Louis Armstrong’s gravely voice can sing that with the journey of having known the contrast of wonderful, back to the joy on the other side.

Dinner last night was true comfort food. I’d pretty much given up on baked versions of mac and cheese because every recipe I’d tried was gritty and not cheesey enough. In looking for meatless meals for the Nativity Fast I found this recipe in the latest issue of Real Simple magazine (the cookbook must be worth getting as every recipe I’ve tried from them has been a keeper). It called for Gruyere cheese; something I can’t pronounce and can’t spell right, and, as it turns out, couldn’t afford and used Montery Jack instead. It was FAB. U. LOUS. Crispy edges, smooth inside, zesty and intense. And next time I’m using pepper jack to make it a wee bit spicey.

Family Funny: the other day Andrew was eating his Chick Fil A fries and said, “I’m so glad they didn’t deskin these potatoes.” I think I may refer to peeling as “deskinning” for years to come now….

We’re ripping out our ground floor carpet today, hoping to find useable 100 year old oak flooring beneath. Here’s hopin’ ‘eh?

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