birchandpine birchandpine

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Kate Oliver  "...ask me what I am living for, in detail, ask me what I think is keeping me from living fully for the thing I want to live for."

All these beautiful blooms are trying to kill me AND fun fact: I took this photo while stuck in traffic on the on ramp to I-10, with my head hanging awkwardly out the window because I just had to have a snap of this beautiful tree as the sun was setting. #allergies

Me and my beautiful daughter and all that matters.
Photograph by @thestorkandthebeanstalk

Prettiest vignette I found while working on some really fun client design projects that’s making me so excited for our @fireclaytile to get here!
Sourced via Pinterest, if you know the photographer/designer, please let me know!

Portrait of a tired woman who is wearing a top with three holes and a skirt with one, and her bathroom mirror is in the kitchen, naturally.

We're in a major Harry Potter phase right now, so there's a lot of potion making and a tire gauge (wand) being bandied about.

Some reallllly good thrift finds that'll always remind me of our time in Arizona...which is going too quickly already. I love it here. I always have.
Also, looking for short, fat beeswax tapers for those candlesticks that don't cost an arm and a leg - I used to buy mine at the local farmers market back in Indiana - any ideas? Would love to shop small!

She's brilliant and beautiful and has a heart so big it makes you want her to stay little forever and not know that the world can be harsh and scary sometimes, because sometimes big and open and vulnerable hearts get hurt the most. She's like me, nose in a book and always creating and sketching, but builds like her other mother does and loves to know how things work and plays in the dirt. She carries a doll around that my dad gave her and named her Anna, and she says that Anna's her sister and we know that one day, we're gonna have to slow down all this madness we're in and give her a sibling for real, and we can't wait. She has freckles across her cheeks and nose, and fair skin and lips like a little rosebud and blue eyes, and she looks so much like my sister, but sometimes like me, and I can see her dad in her expressions sometimes, especially when she's being silly. She loves airplanes, and maybe wants to be a pilot, but maybe wants to be an actress too, and we tell her she can do anything she puts her heart and mind to. She's small, and always has been, and I still call her my baby and when I lean down to pick her up and hold her, I ask if she'll always let me hold her, even when she's an adult someday, and she says yes every time, though she reminds me she's not a baby (every time). And then I smile and tell her that she will always be my baby, and I don't know why this is, but it is.

When Ellen doesn't take her with for a ride in the truck...she sits right here and stares and whines until her favorite human gets back.

Yesterday we put the shower stall back in, a process more complicated than it sounds. Days of sanding and refinishing, building a base, plumbing the drain. We began building the closet to the left of the shower, which will house hanging storage and dirty laundry and access to plumbing and maybe a broom if we're lucky. The work of not only living in the space while building, but also cash flow and waiting to be able to purchase items, has limited our ability to move forward when we'd like to. It's made doing this build complicated and messy. Building at night isn't an option with a sleeping child, so we wrap up and call it quits, and right everything we've wronged throughout the day. We put things back in order so we wake to order and can start our work week or work day, which are different.
Today we are working on things we can do as we wait for our fridge to be delivered, so we've halted progress on the street side bathroom build and are challenging ourselves to tackle as many unfinished things on the curb side as we can. Knobs, doors, shower surround, pocket door assembly, my nightstand - anything from this list, though never all, but we always set our sights on the impossible anyway. Maybe that's how we get through this work, this life. We believe we can at least try to overcome, and we set our sights where we'd like to go, and work ourselves to the bone until we're there.

I pulled out my camera today, the old, heavy one that I used to keep in arms reach at all times. I'd been wanting to, and thinking about how I should, and then I did, because Ellen put music on when she woke this morning, and neither of us could remember the last time she'd done that, but that once, a long time ago, acoustic songs always filled our house in the earliest hours. Time passes and we do let things slip away, even things we love, and love for anything or anyone must be nurtured. So today we listened to music, and today we gave haircuts all around, and Adelaide played in the dirt at our feet while we sweated and worked in the desert heat, and I flitted around like a bug, snapping photos.

We're greying together. It has only been six years, and we were young enough then, but things change, and our bodies must hear some sort of click on the eve of our thirtieth birthdays, and it seems to all go quicker from then: the years and our hair and our skin.
We laugh together over how our hair is changing, and our skin, and I tell her that she gets more beautiful as she ages, and it's true. She has deep ridges around her smiling eyes where I can feel the skin on my neck loosen and thin. Sometimes I think about us even older, and though I'm glad if time is slow to take us there, she is the woman I will stay beside, and wake to, and think is more beautiful with each passing day. Each day with her I am thankful that I broke free, that I opened myself to truth and love.

First Pilates class under my belt, a SHOWER and shaved legs, my vintage rug from Casablanca, Morocco arrived, and there's a concert Adelaide's been preparing to give us for weeks to look forward to tonight. A fine Tuesday.

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