The view

Karis and I headed downtown for an early morning appointment. I entered the parking garage hopeful for a spot amongst the early birds and lucky ones. I was neither. So higher and higher I drove, one floor after the next, feeling some sort of disappointment with each floor, though any floor past the first only meant a short, insignificant elevator ride. (I'm trivial beyond measure.)

As I rounded the bend leading to the fourth floor, the last floor before the rooftop, with a large patch of sunlight beaming through from above, I noticed the view and close proximity to the helipad just beyond the railing. We both squealed at the sight. And that's when I remembered. I'd been in this same garage about 6 months prior. I'd experienced the same slow and disappointing drive up, and the same excited reaction at the view upon arrival.

I was reminded that there is so much joy in the waiting and trusting.

Thursday's snapshot

Watering the flower beds...and Karis' hands.

I've been a little slow at blogging lately, but I'm gearing back up to write, photograph, and share it all with you. There is so much to share with you...the update on last week's wedding, the article which hits the streets tomorrow, and other general noteworthiness. But for now, I'm just going to aim to get my blogging engine back up and running. Toward that end, I thought I'd post a few snapshots of our life over the next few days. Some words but mostly pictures that capture the moments worth remembering. I've missed this place. I'm glad to be back.

Look who I found crawling through the garden this morning. And, yes, I know I have a thing for snails. My obsession has been well documented.

Him

:: Sexy
After a hard day's work, Matt sits across the dinner table from Karis and me and says, "It's great to be home with you, ladies." These two ladies giggle and smile from ear to ear.

:: Sexier
We've been doing a lot of gardening in our front yard. Weeds pulled, rocks and other debris excavated from the flower beds, and flowers planted. We've been having a lot of fun shopping for flowers and exploring all the varieties available. So much fun, in fact, that Matt called me in the middle of his workday on Monday to say he'd gone shopping on his lunch break to buy some African Daisies which he'd seen a few days prior and just had to have. I smiled when I heard his voice over the phone, "I guess I'm a daisy man." Not only is that statement sexy, but it's also incredibly manly, not to mention wonderful for our home's curb appeal.

:: Sexiest
Of all Mexican cuisine I've tasted, pork carnitas stand proudly and deliciously at the top of the list. I've recently discovered a great, relatively simple recipe from America's Test Kitchen. I made them for the second time last week but was a little disappointed with how they turned out compared to my first attempt. But when Matt tasted them, he instantly declared, "If these are your 'bad' carnitas, I'd gladly have them any day of the week."

(Sigh)

It's perhaps the sexiest thing he could ever say to me.

Eggs-traodinary

Good friends don't keep secrets from you. They come for a visit and share with you the divine nature of soft boiled eggs. At weekend's end, they pack up their bags, say good bye, and leave you with the recipe for future enjoyment.

Make such friends. Keep such friends, and for the love all that's beautiful and yummy, make these eggs.

Soft boiled eggs

Bring water to a rolling boil. Carefully lower each egg into the boiling water, making sure that the eggs don't bump into each other as they are very fragile at this stage. Boil for 5 minutes, remove from water, and peel immediately under cool running water. Season with a dash of sea salt and ground pepper. Enjoy with a few thin slices of toasted Italian white bread.

Full on

::Into my 30's
I turned 31 on Saturday. The gift of sleeping in, a trip to the beach with old friends, spicy chicken fajitas, and a gooey chocolate fudge cake were on hand to help ring in another wonderful year and help me ignore the reality that 31 means I'm solidly into my 30's.

::Bribery
With a bed pushed up against the guestroom window, 5 o'clock sunlight teasing me, and Karis antsy to do some jumping, I began shooting. And when Karis got tired before my creative drive did, Reese's Pieces were generously promised. I realize I'm creating a monster here.

::Writer's block
I'm easy with the words on my blog, so long as no one's grading me or, more importantly, giving me a deadline. I love the total artistic control and freedom that blogging allows. But now that I'm scheduled and expected to deliver? Blank. Nada. Zilch.

At least I'm writing about something I care about, visiting the Main Street Library. But it's almost too good. I can't narrow my thoughts down. And so what do I do to help jog my brain? Blog. Here's to hoping blogging does the jogging...

Pictured here is Karis admiring the 3 story murals at the library last week.

In the balance

I took an unintended break from blogging last week. Life just seemed so full of "to do's" and "to do right nows" that I couldn't help but ignore blogging and mostly anything creative during that time. I've been tossing around thoughts in my mind regarding how to maintain a level of creativity in the midst of the busyness and responsibility of life. I've asked myself, "Does growing up mean giving up the artistic and creative?" NO, I say a million times over. I was made to create art.

But I will admit I'm not sure how to balance them both, especially when life enters a busy phase, which our little family seems to be entering into right now. Matt is taking on some large projects in the next few months on top of a full-time job, and in an effort to minimize his stress, I'm taking on more responsibility at home, i.e. paying bills and managing the budget. These are yucky tasks, ones my brain balks at, my will digs its heels against, and my emotions insist it can't handle. (I'm obviously not one for drama, right?) But it's true. I don't love the finer points of budgeting, only the broad, sweeping strokes such as walking up to my husband and carefreely asking him, "Is there money for me to buy a new dress?" I'd simply rather not figure it out myself.

There have been tears shed and words thrown haphazardly about so as to hurt the hearers (read: former budget-handler). But I am making head way in accepting this balancing act of juggling wife-ing, mothering, budgeting, cooking, cleaning, shopping, befriending, so on and so forth. But creating art? Sitting down and typing out words in such a way that I feel fulfilled, rejuvenated, and full of purpose afterwards? Picking up my camera and snapping shots of my beautiful life around me? No. I'm no good at this balancing act. It feels like a trapeze walk, a brain-exploding act.

There has been very little photographing and writing going on lately. But I don't want to give you the impression that I've done nothing related to my artistic abilities in the last few busy weeks. That's not true. I have been busy pursuing creative outlets for the future. In fact, I have a few projects in the works, and though I've kept my lips shut before now, I think it's high time I come clean.

For starters, I'm photographing my first wedding next weekend!! The opportunity fell into my lap, and since I'd been looking to challenge my photography skills and branch out, I couldn't very well say no. It was, I believe, exactly the challenge I was looking for. As a result, I've been doing a lot of preparing, i.e. reading books, blogs, and my camera manual. The best photography resource I've found so far is the book Understanding Exposure by Bryan Peterson (Go get it! It's awesome!). Every time I read some of this book, I walk away gushing about how much I love photography and how well this book explains it. Just ask my husband. He'll testify to my gushing.

Secondly, I recently contacted a local arts and entertainment publication in my city, EU Jacksonville. I submitted some samples of my writing, and I've been invited to contribute a monthly column focusing on the idea of exploring the arts in Jacksonville with my child. If you read this blog regularly you'll know how much this is right up my alley! That combination of writing and pursuing an artistic life with my child in tow is something that could have me talk (or write) about for hours. And, coincidentally, I have to write my first article by April 15, the day before the wedding! So are you beginning to understand why I've felt so busy (a.k.a. strung out)?

But I have to go back to my earlier point on balance. For me, I find comfort in some truths integral to my faith. Anglican priest and writer John Newton writes this about God, "Everything is needful that He sends; nothing can be needful that He withholds." God is sending creative opportunities, and He's also sending budgeting responsibilities. I have to balance them both, not neglecting either one as they are both vital to my survival.

I'm not sure how this will go. After all, anxiety is my middle name and perfectionism my last. It's a terrible combination. A dream-stealing combination. But nevertheless, my plate is filling up, and I both love it and fear it.

I'm reminded of a fantastic HBO movie, Temple Grandin, which I recently watched. It's based on the real life of Temple Grandin, PH.D., an autistic woman who has achieved amazing success in her life in the midst of her immense struggle with autism. A reoccurring theme in the movie is doors. Throughout the film Temple struggles to convince herself to walk through the doors of opportunity that come along, and as each new door opens, she reminds herself that it is a passage to a new and better world. Clearly, she's all the better for having walked through them.

I have no idea what will come of these current opportunities in my life. But I see doors, people, and I'm walking through them.

Easter lessons (of the unspiritual variety)

Dying eggs with three toddlers will cause the moms to wonder if this is more fun "when the kids get older."

If lacking a special Easter dress, pin a fabric flower to your favorite necklace and you've got an outfit worth celebrating.

Photo shoots before lunch are never appreciated.

If Dad hides the eggs, Karis may end up sticking her hands into strange, not mom-approved places. (She's not in pain here, just straining to get the egg out. Dad eventually stuck his hand in and got it out.)

But hiding an egg at the top of a gravel "mountain" is totally fun.

When Daddy B (grandpa) sits down at the piano, Karis will saunter up and demand "Holy, Holy, Holy." They will sing it together, and it will be a picture worth taking.

Happy Easter to you and yours!