Happy weekend friends.
After what felt like a trying week, Friday called for my comfiest work clothes, and a smidge of celebratory teal eyeliner that the 15 year old discarded. They say dress for success but today I dressed for rest and threw in a giant vanilla milkshake at lunch time for good measure.
Whatever your doing I hope your celebrating life in simple ways and as always I hope these few words and reads will be fresh air and kind company – – –
A Good Word
If all you value is work, then productivity is the metric.
But if you can shift out from under the weight of that, then the world refracts against itself like a kaleidoscope, again, again, again.
And you will start to see that time is worth something different, and minutes and hours are ticked out differently – for joy, for play, for another chapter of a book, for setting up for a dinner party with a friend, or for another hour at the table.
Shauna Niequist, “I Guess I Havent Learned That Yet”
A Good Look
Pouring rain here but this idea translates across all seasons. See more gorgeous art works by John Sloane HERE
A Good Idea
From Kaitlyn Bouchillon
(Thanks to my friend Ros who sent this to me)
Most likely, this will be another week of a lot of things.
After all, these are the days of . . . so much.
Beauty, heartache, joy, loss, wonder, overwhelm, delight, exhaustion, fear, surprise, love, grief, laughter.
The list could go on and on and on.
In case no one has told you lately, you are stronger than you know and the strength you’ve been given is a gift, but it’s also okay to let yourself take a breath.
To pause.
To be vulnerable.
To text a friend or turn all the devices off or stand barefoot in the grass and just stare at the sky as the clouds pass by.
You are holding so much at one time . . .
But you don’t have to hold it all together.
What if, instead, you chose to be held?
You are loved by the One who comes close and never leaves.
A Few Good Reads
From Bon Appetite
The Impractical Pleasure of Eating Fish and Chips on the Beach
It’s messy, but you haven’t lived until you’ve tried it.
Eating on the beach is an impractical choice. The wind blows sand into food with ease, seagulls will not respect your boundaries, and everything feels sticky to the touch. Still, this evening my family carries our haul of fish and chips past the groups eating their meals straight-backed at real tables featuring plastic cups of Sauvignon Blanc and toward the ocean. Our fried food is swaddled in off-white paper like a newborn coming home. We stop at the border between sidewalk and sand, and even my dad, who eats pizza with a knife and fork, understands we must remove our shoes and feel the warm grains nestle snugly around our toes.
Sitting cross-legged near the water sans towels, we watch the hermit crabs scuttle into their holes. And with only fingers to eat our pile of food, we let any sense of dinner decorum crumble. We dig our heels deeper into the sand until we uncover the damp, cool pockets still wet from the morning tide. We tear into steaming hunks of cod, shower everything in lemon juice, and let all the crumbs tumble onto the paper, now almost transparent with oil drippings. The breeze is thick and briny and it makes us giddy, a little bit wild. We’re all grown, but for now my Australian family are toddlers; sticky and laughing
– – – keep reading
From The Stories Between Us
There’s Still Hope
Gratitude makes optimism sustainable.
The sign that says this quote hangs suspended between two black plastic arms. The letters are made out of bendable plastic that allows each one to slide into the white plastic grooves on the display. It’s not fancy. The opposite of high tech, in fact. For that matter, I’m not even sure who owns the sign. It sits outside of a house that I think might double as a business. I’ve never really paid attention. But I always notice the sign. Each week it displays a new quote. They’re always inspirational; sometimes quirky, sometimes cliché. But occasionally there’s one that hits me square in the heart.
Like this one.
Gratitude makes optimism sustainable.
Full disclosure: I’ve been a bit of a “Negative Nancy” lately. Not to throw around excuses and all that, but I do come from a long and sturdy line of pessimists, so it’s not exactly surprising considering my pedigree. But in recent years, I’ve tried to make a change. Why? Well, look around you. Crappy things happen to optimistic people and pessimistic people alike. And the optimistic people just seem to be having more fun while the you-know-what hits the fan. I get one life, and I’d rather enjoy it than bemoan it.
Of course, Mary Oliver says it best in “The Summer Day”:
From Food52
16 Ways to Make Jarred Tomato Sauce Sooo Much Better
For when you need to face-plant into a bowl of pasta without delay.
For most weeknight dinners, my goal is to reduce the amount of time between entering my apartment and eating pasta. The ultimate victory, of course, would be to walk through the door while eating pasta (or—if angels have descended—to arrive home to a table already set with mac and cheese). Instead, I usually settle for marinara sauce made from scratch in 30-ish minutes: Bring water to a boil while changing clothes; cook noodles while sautéing greens with fresh garlic; add pasta to said greens with a splash of cooking liquid and copious amounts of pecorino, olive oil, and fresh herbs; face-plant into plate.
My parents, on the other hand, reduced the door-to-pasta period by handily employing the microwave and a glass jar of store-bought marinara sauce we always had in the fridge. Boil pasta, microwave sauce (or heat it up in a saucepan on the stove if you’re really feeling extra), mix the two together, and hush your hungry crew of children.
That’s all for now friends. Have a beautiful weekend. Rest up. Do something you love xx
Water Into Wine 