Friday, March 22, 2013


Do you ever dream of a really simple life? I do. I sometimes wish we could sell our house and move into a tiny little country cottage on a piece of land big enough to do what we wish, but not too big to tend to. I want fewer things to take care of. Fewer things to break. Fewer things to clean. I wish my day involved painting, crafting, and tending to chickens and a garden. I wish everything was within a bike ride. I wish my favorite coffee shop was just around the corner and that a library was down the street. 
I often dream of what that would be like. I often wonder why we don't just do it. Sell most of our things, keep only what we truly need and love, and just go. Go where there is less stuff and more us. More time being together. More time to bake and sew and play. Less stress, less time wasted and more time doing what makes us happy. More time in the Word instead of in the car. More time reading and less time cleaning. 
My kids asked me the other day why Dad was the one who always played with them while I cleaned and did stuff inside. I hate to say it, but before I even gave it a thought, I muttered, "If I had some help, I might be able to play more and clean less." Just thinking about the words that came out of my mouth makes me cry all over again...and I replay it often.
Since then, my house has been a little more messy. Dishes have begun to stack up regularly. Clothes are always in piles with one load in the washer, and one in the dryer. Countertops are rarely clean...but, I play with my kids more. I'll admit, it is hard. It is very hard to overlook the mess and pretend to be carefree. I know it will get better. Every time I see their faces light up when they ask me to play, and I stop what I'm doing and say "okay", it gets easier. They just want me. They don't care about the dishes, or made beds, or the lack of socks in their drawer. They just want their mom to play with them.
Would living more simply be the answer? Maybe. One thing I do know is that no matter where you are, not matter what your situation, you can be what your kid needs. Sometimes it just means being the bouncer on the trampoline. :)


Monday, March 11, 2013

linen & grey

As a young girl, I remember frequenting fabric stores with my Memom. I remember looking at and feeling the fabric between my fingers. I remember being overwhelmed by the rows and rows of fabrics, ribbons, and trims. I would leave with eyes burning from the dyes, as my mom did when she shopped with her many years before me. I don't remember being particularly excited about going, but I endured it, and grew to love it over the years. Every time I go to a fabric store, I remember those days with my Memom.
Memom suffered a heart attack this past week, and these memories have never been as important to me as they are now. She is 85. She is still one of my best friends. She is the one who taught me how to sew. She would let me pick out my own pattern and fabrics at Hancock Fabrics (or "Hancockylockies", as she would call it), and would turn me loose. 
Sometimes I would just watch her work. Lips pursed, head tilted back so she could see through her glasses, and a frequent head scratch, she would create. 
I remember how much she appreciated beautiful fabrics. She still does. I do as well. And I really love linen.
I also remember being very interested in decorating from a young age. I guess I really never realized that people actually did it for living. If I had, I would have known from the first time I picked a paint color for my room (which was a hideous deep turquoise with a sponge painted finish...yikes!), that being an interior designer was exactly what I wanted to be. I still dream of it. I dabble in paint colors, fabrics, crafts, and sewing in between schooling my children, cooking dinner and making sure everyone has clean socks. Being in front of a wall of paint swatches is pure bliss. There is no other transformation equal to that of paint on a wall. My favorite color is grey.
That is how I came to the name "Linen & Grey". Two of my favorite things in my own little fantasy world of pretty things. 
I look forward to many more trips to the fabric store with my Memom. Maybe I can even convince her to do a little sewing with her favorite granddaughter (inside joke here...). 

Blessings from my home to yours,