by Krista | Nov 20, 2012 | Bits 'n' Bobs
“Behind our unremarkable front door waits the little world of our own making,
a place of safety, exploration, comfort, and love.”
Gretchen Rubin
I’ve loved old doors for as long as I can remember.
They’re so heavy and sturdy and somehow always make me feel safe, even if I’m on the outside looking in. I feel happy for whoever lives behind them, thinking it must be awfully nice to have that big ol’ door between them and the outside world.
I like seeing the front doors of people I love. Smiling at the sight of their familiar house number or door knocker or grotty old mat that has been trodden on by innumerable feet and paws.
Pulling up in front of their house or flat gives me a little thrill of excitement, that delicious assurance that soon I will be enveloped in the arms and hearts of people who cherish me as much as I treasure them.
And of course my favorite front door is my very own.
I love coming home after a time away, whether a journey to some far flung locale or simply a day spent running errands in town.
Trudging up worn wooden steps, shooing chickens out of the way, juggling grocery bags while a hyper puppy leaps all over me with unfettered joy at my arrival.
It fills me with inestimable comfort knowing I am home at last. I am where I belong.
Where are your favorite doors?
by Krista | Nov 19, 2012 | Bits 'n' Bobs
After a wondrously stormy weekend with house-shaking thunder and sky-dancing lightning, I’m still in that peaceful, cozy frame of mind that inevitably comes with rainy days at home.
I’m craving quietness, that deep quietness that comes when TV, computer and music are turned off and all you hear is the wind rustling the poplar leaves and the contented clucking of chickens searching the ground for seeds they might’ve missed.
It’s a bread and jam sort of day.
Slices of chewy artisan bread with a floured crust topped with soft cheese and strawberry preserves.
Or maybe homemade fig jam with hardly any sugar so you can actually taste the figs.
And even though it’s the simplest of fare, a pretty plate is essential, a pretty plate on an old wooden table set by a window letting in soft light. A window that lends itself to leisurely breakfasts and dreamy thoughts.
I love windows like that.
I’m grateful for these quiet moments. Being ill for so long does have it’s perks! I have lots of quiet moments to breathe deeply and dream, filling notebooks with ideas for all the things I’m going to do when I feel better.
One of those things is making homemade preserves. I’ve been so inspired by my friends Ann and Jackie who make glistening jars of delicious things like Burnished Marmalade and Beetroot Relish, Apple Sage Jelly and Pear, Blueberry and Star Anise Jam. Mmm.
I’ve been poring over preserving books from the library, marking recipes that call out to me like Piccalilli (the name alone makes me happy!), Sweet Ginger Mustard, and Peach Chutney.
Have you ever done preserving? What is your favorite homemade preserve?
by Krista | Nov 13, 2012 | Bits 'n' Bobs
“In the garden I tend to drop my thoughts here and there.
To the flowers I whisper the secrets I keep and the hopes I breathe.
I know they are there to eavesdrop for the angels.”
Dodinsky
I love the serenity of a beautiful garden, especially a wild one planted by birds and nurtured by the sky.
I love a crumbling stone wall overgrown with ivy and moss, like this lovely one by the side of a mountain road in Southern Italy.
“It is good to be alone in a garden at dawn or dark
so that all its shy presences may haunt you
and possess you in a reverie of suspended thought.”
James Douglas
As I mentioned last time, I’m not doing so well these days, but lots of rest has built up my strength and today I got to take a little walk through an Aussie garden.
It was completely different from these photos of Italian ruins and wildflowers, but still a wonderful place to amble slowly through the grass, breathing deeply of sun-warmed blossoms and freshly-watered earth.
Wildflowers are my favorite – scarlet poppies, cheery daisies, even bright yellow dandelions. They look so carefree sprinkled throughout a meadow, swaying in the wind.
And is there anything better than a garden with a ramshackle stone cottage begging to be fixed up and used for a garden shed or a splendid little hideaway?
Where is your favorite place to go for a quiet walk?
by Krista | Nov 8, 2012 | Bits 'n' Bobs
“I have always been delighted at the prospect of a new day,
a fresh try,
one more start,
with perhaps a bit of magic waiting somewhere behind the morning.”
J. B. Priestley
Thank you so much for the kindness, hugs and support you gave me yesterday. Just sharing my burden with you made it lighter, and I can face this next round of tests with greater strength and courage. XO
Now let us set aside all thoughts of proddings and pokings and return to the village of Vogogna, Italy where (last week) we explored the medieval Visconti Castle.
Just past this imposing edifice is a bumpy stone trail that wends along behind the castle, over a bridge, and past a small stone cottage.
It is not possible, for me at least, to see such a trail and not feel compelled to follow it. Thankfully such notions also appeal to my English friend Katy, so we gamely set off for parts unknown to see what we could see.
Clad in breezy sundresses and strappy sandals we didn’t look even remotely like mountain climbers, but such trifles are not to be considered when there are adventures to be had.
So up we went the increasingly steep trail, treading carefully on stones worn smooth by countless trekkers.
We passed abandoned stone huts overgrown with vines and bushes, sun-dappled rock walls, and berries, ferns and tiny flowers in the underbrush.
As we trekked higher up the mountain, it felt like we had inadvertently stepped into an Italian version of Heidi.
“Are you tired, Heidi?” Deta asked the child.
“No, but hot,” she replied.
“We shall be up in an hour, if you take big steps and climb with all your little might! ”
Johanna Spyri, Heidi
And we did. 🙂
We stopped often to catch our breath, finding shady spots to rest and visit, turning our heads to catch glimpses of the hazy valley and smoky mountains behind us.
Our legs were burning and lungs bursting when we trudged around a corner and gaped in wonder at a beautiful little mountain village that seemingly appeared out of nowhere: Genestredo.
There were no voices, no slamming of doors or static from a radio.
No people or dogs or vehicles and the only sounds were morning birdsong and the gurgle of water from the village spring.
I don’t know where the inhabitants were, but you could see their mark in tidy courtyards and flower pot lined balconies.
Awash in sunshine and void of noise, the village was indescribably peaceful.
We loved it, and happily wandered the deserted streets dreaming up all sorts of stories about the people who called this tiny place home.
I especially wanted to know who lived in this beautiful stone house with its weathered shutters and overflowing window boxes.
Can’t you imagine flinging open the windows on fine days and leaning out on your elbows to take in views of towering peaks and ancient ruins? Or perhaps sitting on that old bench with a dear friend, nattering about the day and watching the townsfolk pass by?
Sigh. Tis a lovely thing to imagine. 🙂
Next time we’ll continue our trek up the mountain and explore the ruins of an Italian medieval fortress: the Rocca.
Wishing you a beautiful weekend.
xo
by Krista | Nov 8, 2012 | Bits 'n' Bobs
I’m in a lot of pain today. Have been for several months now.
A few months ago I underwent a lot of tests and they’ve been monitoring me since then. Tomorrow I go in for more, and hopefully we’ll have a better handle on what we’re dealing with.
The last few days have been especially bad and the truth is, I’m scared.
I try not to be, of course. I try to think good, cheering thoughts, notions brimming with hope and bravery, but sometimes the very best thing is simply to have a good cry and blurt out all the things I’m scared of: another surgery, inability to have babies, a whole lot more pain.
So I do, and for a while I feel a lot better and can see clearly all the things I have to be grateful for: I’m alive, I am loved by a dear man who cherishes me whether I can have babies or not, and I have good friends who check on me regularly and make sure I never feel alone.
Those are the things that keep me going and help me find joy again.
The last few days I haven’t been up to blogging, but today I want to chronicle some of the beautiful things in my life that make me smile in the midst of doctor visits and pill swallowing and a body that’s having a rather rough time of it.
This morning I walked out to my garden for the first time in a while and, wonder of wonders, it was not only growing but thriving! (Thank you unexpected rainfall that rescues neglected gardens) I found baby beets, some lovely white radishes, and even pulled one tiny purple carrot just so I could taste that amazing fresh-carrot-flavor. 🙂
We found some treasures at the market this week – bunches of gorgeous kale, lovely new potatoes, and these beautiful white nectarines that remind me of my years spent in California.
And last but not least, luscious, silky, juicy mangoes.
Much to my delight, it is Mango Season in Australia again. The very best time of the year. 🙂
I know a lot of you are going through hard times right now too. I wish I could hug you tight so we could both feel better. Hugs are lovely things like that. 🙂
Is there anything putting a smile on your face today? I’d love to hear about it. 🙂
XO
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