Merry & Mod at home

summer snaps

August already. No matter how we have tried to savor summer, I know that all seasons eventually transition to a new phase. Lists of seed to plant and trees to trim gives way to school supplies and cool weather layers. Part of me rebels, not yet. And it's true: there are still blueberries to pick, trips to the lake, tomatoes ripening on the vine. We will wring every sweet, lingering drop from our magical summer. 

Once the weather turns cool and hats and scarves have been unearthed from the bottom of the hall closet, I will return to this post to revisit the warm memories. We have camped, worked, planted and harvested. We have lazed the days away and traveled to be with our family. Ah, yes, we have loved every moment.  

This summer our family has enjoyed visiting the McKenzie River and the Oregon Coast. Growing up in the Willamette Valley my family summered in both locations - lush and verdant woods flanking the frigid, rushing river; majestic and towering forest colliding with the powerful ocean. These places are part of me and I will always feel at home when I am there. But there is also a sense of wonder in returning to our small piece of earth which we tend with great care. That we - my husband, children and I - have created that same sense of belonging, together in a new place. It, too, is part of me.

 

 

Ella Bella laid an egg.

I have a chicken and she laid an egg. That's a fairly mundane announcement - chickens are bred to lay, after all. But for our family, discovering a tiny, pale brown, perfectly shaped egg in the nest box was nothing short of miraculous. All the waiting, tending, and building came to fruition and each of us experienced a thrill of delight.

There was a brief discussion over how to taste this first egg. Scrambled? Poached? Then my oldest requested a classic preparation: sunny side up. I heated a pat of butter and some oil in a skillet, waited until it bubbled, then cracked the shell on the side of the pan and dropped it's contents into the fat. The little egg sat up high and firm - the freshest I've ever experienced. We gathered around one plate with four forks and cut into it. The yolk ran deep orange: proof of her healthy diet, fresh air, happy existence.