"Listen to the mustn'ts then listen close to me. Anything can happen, child, anything can be." Shel Silverstein

I have to start telling myself that I can't drink coffee after dinner. Ever. Because when I do, I turn into Rosie O'Donnell. I'm loud, digressive. Oy. And I usually end up talking to people I am really rather fond of and then kicking myself later as I try to gag myself with a sock. Rereading that, I make it sound like I'm drunk. Maybe the universe is trying to tell me: DRINK WATER.

It is fall. I think it's official and I only think it's official because it was foggy yesterday and has been raining all day. My weather compass is only so forgiving and the "spring" we had turned my weather-heart to stone. Or at least a semi-precious rock. But I got to wear my Fall clothes which made me happy. Layering is tough on the West Coast. Everything has to fit under a rain jacket which really doesn't breathe very well, so usually by midday you come back smelling like the inside of a rain boot.

Started some training at a bread bakery today because I obviously eat through jobs like goldfish crackers. Management turnover at the cafe I was at before and not only me but everyone else is also out of a job. Luckily, I had a kick ass opportunity right around the corner (aka the next day). This job will mean some EARLY mornings, basically before God is up but it's all good. He'll have some fresh bread, baked by me, ready for him when he gets up. Today was the first time that I felt a pang of nostalgia for school. But I thought through it and what I thought I was missing out on. And I realized, though I wish I was taking my Conversational Russian class (that's the only class I missing!), the only thing I was missing was the physical movement of routine. I miss waking up, picking out my clothes, waking up on the bus ride to school, grabbing a coffee before class, having the anonymity time of the academy. Besides that, I realized I don't miss UBC at all.

I'm feeling it's a Simple Daybook kind of day because my days are all over the place lately.
FOR TODAY
Outside my window… Rain. Blech. It's fall. But I bought in and had pumpkin spice latte yesterday. I'm a sucker.
I'm thinking...
I'm thankful…
From the Learning Rooms…I am trying to relearn all of the Russian I forgot over the summer. All I remember how to say is "I eat pizza with my hands". Not good.
In the kitchen…Newly baked caraway rye artisan bread. Win!
I am wearing…new skinnies and a tank with wooden beads. It's a mix of weather appropriate wear.
I am creating…Smitten Kitchen posted a recipe for peach butter (as opposed to apple butter) and I'm pretty stoked to give it a shot. The lemon-grapefruit is gone (Thank God! I was putting it on everything!) so I have an empty jam jar that needs fillin'!
I am going…the Alibi Room tomorrow. It's a sweet pub/restaurant in Gastown and our friend Todd is having his birthday there tomorrow night.
I am wondering…how I'm going to handle 'bakers hours'. 4 o'clock starts. Whoa.
I am reading…Flannery O'Connor. Moozh bought me one of her anthologies for Christmouse and I haven't even cracked it yet. I love her interpretation of gothic.
I am hoping…to spend tomorrow afternoon buried in some writing.
I am looking forward to…dinner with friends from the Reeg on Saturday! Some old, some new. I have a majestic cake planned and Moozh will pull one of his epic meal times out of a hat. It's gonna be a gooder.
I am hearing…Yukon Blonde. I have to give Florence and the Machine a break. Yukon Blonde is kind of a cross between Sloan and Fleet Foxes.
Around the house…a half finished baby blanket. Moozh's beer training book. The carnage left over from making bread.
One of my favourite things…Fall! The leaves are turning and that has to be one of my favourite things in the whole world. One of my Seven Favourite Things? Hmmmm…..
A few plans for the rest of the week…Seeing good friends. Praying over what this fall looks like and this year. Counting down the days until The Adventures of Tin Tin: Secret of the Unicorn comes out. Ya know, big stuff.

‎"Life's real, it's made up of little things -minutes, hours, naps, errands, routine. And it has to be enough." Barney's Version

Deep breath.

So recently I mentioned working through some hefty considerations and those considerations have given birth to some serious changes. Remember when I was a neurotic stress case about getting into my program at the Yoob? And then I did I said, "Victory"? I have spent the past four months feeling lost in the middle of it and feeling like I didn't bring my ball of string with me. Moozh went through serious self-reflection and making a really hard decisions, all the while I spent that time convincing myself that I wanted to be in my program. I don't think I've ever really given it the depth here that I feel for it but writing for me is such an emotional conviction. It has been my rescue for as long as I can remember. When I was stressed out as a kid, as young as first grade, it was how I dealt with stress. I could either develop multiple personalities or I could write. *I've always chosen the latter, just in case you're wondering.* So I faced into so many emotional road blocks when it came to actually thinking through my program, which Moozh totally had to do too. I felt somehow that saying I didn't want to do my program meant I wasn't a writer and I didn't believe that, I did't have the strength to swallow that.

But as I prayed about it, and as Moozh and I worked through it, I realized that I never wanted to leave writing behind and
Realizing that, while it seriously pains me to admit this, I"m not Virginia Woolf and I can't write ten hours a day, seven days a week. (Something makes me think Virginia Woolf couldn't either. Walking into a river with rocks in your pocket doesn't seem optimal.) I know that there are people out there that can write ad infinitum and I really admire them. But it's okay for me to not be that way, even though I say that through gritted teeth. I was in the program of my dreams and wondering why I couldn't get away from the feeling that it wasn't what I wanted. Made me feel guilty about all the people that supported me and prayed for me through the portfolio process and all of the incredible writers I know who didn't get in.

So this past Wednesday, when everyone else was catching a bus or grabbing a coffee, crunching through the leaves walking to class, I was sitting at home in my pyjamas, printing off resumes. I got from texts from awesome friends who remembered that I was supposed to be in their classes and I think all of my texts started off with "Oh yeah sooooooo…"  

But none of this was made in a void. As we worked through what I wasn't going to do, we waded through what I WAS going to do. We thought about what made me excited to do as a JOB. I could get my degree in Creative Writing and wait tables once I'm done to facilitate me writing. OR I could get my education in something I like that facilitates my writing. When I live in my head too long, I get internal. I become morbidly introspective, self-critical, aloof. I know for myself that I need B-A-L-A-N-C-E. I need something that pulls me out of my imaginary world where I talk to people that aren't real into a world where I am reminded of my husband, my life, my friends, my responsibilities, my other passions. I don't' want to be the kind of mom that is so aloof that her kids know she's not a place they can bring anything important. That sucks. This process has been an exercise in courage. I tend to hedge my bets. "If this doesn't work, it's not going to be hard or embarrassing or shocking because I have all of THESE things in place." Life is not meant to be lived like that and we were never called to live a life seeking security.
So we thought about the things that I do when I get home: look at food blogs, read cookbooks like novels, bake bread, make jam. I thought about when I have to get a summer job or a job that I can do during school, I never look for a job at  magazine or a newspaper. Because it freakin' stresses me out! I got to bakeries and cafes. I want to make things that make people feel good. I volunteer on farms.
So y'all, I'm going to bakery school. In January. Same place as Moozh. We gon' be Ma and Pa. I get to learn how to make wedding cakes! And chocolate! And profiteroles! And a whole bunch of stuff I can't even pronounce. I'm going to learn how to make the best bread you've ever had in your life. And I will find a way to share it with you over the 'inter web'. (I'll stuff it through my screen and it will pop out your USB drive.)

This all makes me want to wade into the ocean and watch the sun rise, ealize the autonomy of the world, how choices that I think are going to make me unhappy don't change the world, don't change the ticking and chugging of my life. It's like that Donald Miller quote, the beauty of the story means I matter. I can create, I can step out in courage, I can question, as the world was created for me to be in it.
My Moozh has been my exhale in a serious way. This process is one of those examples I will use when someone asks me what is so amazing about marriage. It's someone who loves you, someone you love, someone to talk you off a ledge, someone to call you to better living. But more than that, it's someone that when you feel small in the face of eternity and in the face of the the world, you have someone who as my bestie would say "holds you in the warmth of the night and thanks God for you". Someone who looks at the same future you do, a future like a three-legged race, and says in the middle of the craziness and uncertainty, "Let's do this".  And that moment, when you've totally fallen on your ass, they are there to help carry you through it (or drag your across the finish line and give you road rash on your back -the metaphor doesn't really work here but you get the gist). I had parents that showed me it is never too late to make a course correction and it has been a blessing to me. I want to be a model of the same. Course correction is hard and totally scary because it amalgamates emotions and ambitions and uncertainties and ties them into a huge monster you have to have the courage to cut down to size.

So if you see me walking around in the New Year in a white suit with my name on it, no I'm not doing probation. I'm in baking school! And if you don't see me at the Yoob, don't be mad that I don't have to stand in line for a upass every month. I have to buy a real pass :(

In so many words, next time you come to my house, you should bring a trophy with you or something because we're gonna kick the ass off of any hospitality you've ever had in your life. That's not really a joke.

Totally going to start a baking blog. Probs going to name it "You Can't Trust a Skinny Baker". Trust.

As of right now, I'm working at a little gluten-free, vegan bakery which is super cute and really chill. I'm not sure to what degree my program will deal with baking for those kind of alternative diets. Let me tell you, I am SHOCKED how much corn starch is in gluten-free baking. I want to see if I can find something at a bread bakery, where I can learn from different perspectives how people make bread. I'm gonna get so fat. Security in marriage, I'm tellin' ya.

Psalm 37:4
"Abide in me and I will give you the desires of your heart." Beaut.

P.S ~ I have to figure out how to learn Russian from here on out ON MY OWN. Guess who is always going to sound foreign?
P.P.S ~ Watched the movie "Morning Glory" which I didn't actually want to see initially because it didn't look interesting but Moozh has a crush on Rachel McAdams. She's super cute in the movie and actually redeemed it a little bit for me. But most of all the movie had a great soundtrack. Newton Faulkner, Corrine Bailey Rae and The Weepies. I freakin' LOVE THE WEEPIES. And this song kind of makes me 'weepy' (no seriously awesome right?!) but it's super relevant to my mind right now.

"Well I ask, doesn't anything stay the same.
No, No, No
Just same changes."

"The fabric of your flesh, as pure as a wedding dress…"

I've been listening to "Howl" by Florence and the Machine for probably a half an hour. It's like when I listen to "One" by U2 and Mary J. Blige. I'm pulling a Mary J, ya know breakin' it down. Moozh always get a hefty laugh out of that because he doesn't understand the fierce bitch inside me, all locked up inside an awkward white girl. All good. At least Florence is white too. She's a ginger even! But the beats in her music matched with her howling (Ha! No pun…well yeah pun intended), practically rearranges my heartbeat. And makes me want to take my shoes off and dance on the lawn. And we have to share our lawn. Awkward.

Moozh and I took in the sunset last night playing chess and having wine and bread for dinner. Because we can. And because I grew up on the prairies and I always feel a little bit guilty when I don't take advantage of the waterfront, especially when the sun is OUT. It has been remarkably sunny lately, I will concede.

And because it sounds like a cool thing to do. There I said it. Sigh.

Made soup and popovers for dinner from the Moosewood cookbook lent to me by a lovely new friend. We swapped cookbooks after we had had too much wine. It's the female version of "I love you man."
"Make this cake. Oh my gawd, it's so good. But it's so easy. Seriously, I'm not kidding."
And so I did. No cake yet, but "Gypsy Soup". It just kinda sounds like I'd want to eat it. And popovers are always yummy. LIke puffy muffins. Puffy muffin biscuits. Puffinscuits…..new word.

I found this blog called "The Daybook" through Pinterest. She taught some of my first Photoshop photo processing. But she has this fun portion called "Awesome and Awkward" where you categorize what happened in your day. My days would be a tad one-sided methinks. IN THE AWESOME CATEGORY. Obviously.

Here goes:
Awesome -

• Handing out resumes like I was on a paper route. Let's get us a fine job!
• I didn't get beaten at chess every round last night. I never won but I managed enough stalemates to stay above water. 
• We saw someone walking their dog on the beach and the dog was a dead ringer for Stitch from Lilo and Stitch. It made me seriously want one. I think it's a French Bulldog. "I got a dog! It's a collie…that was hit by a truck." Cutester. 

Awkward -

• When it gets hot my hair gets all droopy and my bangs look like Nick Carter from The Backstreet Boys. You know, when the 90's where the 90's (said with a serious sad face). 
• Standing in my pyjamas in the sunlight pouring through our front windows, drinking my coffee and being thankful when a painter who's here because our building is being painted walks past my window and stares at me in my pjs. Awkward. 
• Giving people the 'death stare' when they stand in my way as I wait for the crosswalk. There is no way I could be in that much of a hurry. 

Happy September! Hope everyone had a nice Labor Day long weekend. I realized today…that it was yesterday. This is what happens when you're unemployed. You have absolutely no need to keep track of time. Unless you have to volunteer at a farm.

Question for today: What would your ideal meal be? Ritzy? Chill? Alone? With company?
I know mine would be a loaf of crusty bread, a chunk of cheese, a bottle of wine and my Moozh. I could eat this meal on the side of a highway and would still be beyond content. Mmm-mmm.

"…Muckers might make angels in its drafts as children do in snow, lovers in sheets, lie down and leave imprinted where they lay a feathered creature holier than they." Photos of a Salt Mine by P.K Page

Dear Y'all,


This week has drawn my summer to a close but I in fact feel less and less sure about what this Fall and, consequently this year, holds for me. I'm processing a lot of questions about school, about my writing degree and about my vision for my future. In the wake of these questions, I just decided to fill my timetable with achievable crafts and carbs to ensure a blithe contentment with what I'm working into. Discouragement can be a hard thing to work through because it unavoidably required taking a hard look at your expectations and whether they are…appropriate. It also takes examining a certain degree of romanticism in life. I would be the first proponent of maintaining the romance in life. But romanticism can also become idealistic and that is the perfect breeding ground for disappointment and discouragement. Blabbity-blab and so goes the mouth. I'll probably be digesting all this stuff here as well. And posting fun things that feed the romance of life. 


Psychosomatic Side Note: I always think of the curry Barracks Farmer's Market in Cowtown when I talk about 'romanticism'. The Farmer's Market was right across the street from where I studied Romantic literature. 


I tried out artisan bread, which has long plagued me with it's irresistible crust and upwards of 18 hour prep time. Letting it sit overnight didn't really gel with my unfettered obsession with carbs and my need for instant gratification with baking. I followed the process listed on the blog Ivory Hut, in which she uses a recipe from Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day, which I now have on my bookshelf. This bread is the bomb-diggity. What made me nervous about the bread was the involved nature of it and most of the recipes I had seen required it to be baked in a Dutch Oven. This recipe, while it did require about eight hours of 'prep' time, most of it was just waited for the dough and letting t just hang out in a bowl. You don't need to knead it and you really only handle the dough for about five minutes in total (thus the name). Moist, great crust, mild flavour and endlessly adaptable. I want to make an olive-rosemary loaf next and I've seen a recipe for spinach-feta that would be fantastic.  If you have a spare Saturday where you want to make some bread that's going to make you feel like a superhero, try this bread. Plus, I split the dough into three and froze the other two. They still bake up perfect and it makes the time commitment a little bit more rewarding. I have baked two out of my three loaves and I don't have any pictures because we eat it too fast. Perfect with soup, for bruschetta, or….


Grapefruit curd! I mentioned it with baited breath earlier in the week. And on Friday I actually got around to making it work. I have been a part of making lemon curd so many times during a holiday season. It's one of my dad's favourite treats to make around Christmas. It's always made with the intention of spooning it into tarts for Christmas Day but it inevitably is eaten by the spoonful at regular intervals that come Christmas Day there is not a sniff of curd to be found. My dad makes his in the microwave but I found a recipe for a grapefruit curd made on the stovetop and given my recent track record, I found myself dreading whatever would manage to go wrong with a lemon curd, namely 'curdling the eggs'. Nothing is more disgusting to me than curdled eggs. I'm on the fence about eggs anyway (it's my veggie head brainwashing) but eggs going awry in a sweet spread: gross. But after my achievement with the bread, I felt emboldened and dare I say, a tad punch drunk that I put my hesitations aside.

Taste-wise, it was a thing of beauty. Sweet but with a refreshing citrusy tartness, it is flecked with grapefruit and lemon zest and mixed with chunks of fresh ruby red grapefruit. But as you can see, it is a bit…loose. The recipe said that cooking it for less time would result in a soft curd (read: runny). I cooked it, inspecting each flick of the whisk for any trace of opaque egg white, for almost an hour waiting for it to thicken into a spread, more like this:

from Saint Marty via google images

But it did not materialize. There is no such "dollop capacity" with my curd. Look at the definable 'hole' left by the spoon! But as I said, it tastes wonderful. I gifted some of it to some of our favourite people who just tap danced back into Bankybear and they told me they tried it by the spoonful. Which means it was a success.

Happy Monday! Eat something with zucchini in it. I know I will be. 

P.S ~ Moozh and I want to do a home brew this year. Got any tips? 

"Enjoy your place in my story. The beauty of it means you matter, and you can create in my story, even as I have created you." Donald Miller

Dear Y'all,

My apologies for the infrequency of my posting lately. After our amazing vacay in the Land of Plenty and the Rapture I think I had a hard time getting back into the swing of things. But I've also been in the midst of something a little different. On our holiday, I read Donald Miller's "A Million Miles in a Thousand Years", which centres around 'living a good story'. It applies some of the theories about writing a good story and applies that to life. It was beautiful and for a writer made a ton of sense. So I looked at my story.
I have entered a period which I have deemed the "Age of Intentionality". One thing that truly frightens me when I look around at my generation is the tendency of people my age to be voyeurs in life, to not truly engage who and what is happening in their lives. When you ask people what they are about, they don't know what to say and when you ask them who they want to become and how they are going to get there, they are similarly at a loss of words. They do not invent and create community, or even engage it. They stand around in groups and assume that in doing that they are a part of people's lives.  I will not do that. But I have definitely slumped in that direction.
I have seen a tendency in my life to settle into what is easy, and what is accessible. I have let the creative pieces of my mind collect dust while I try and escape into that which is gratifying and does not require concentration, like food blogs. I let the creative outlets that I love, like baking, sewing, crafting, photography or reading, all fall into dormancy. Do you realize that this past year this blog was the only regular writing I did? I was in a friggin' writing program!!
As a wife, I want to inspire and empower my husband in his creative pursuits. He's a beautifully creative man! I want to create a space and a model for that for my children one day. And wanting that starts now. One of Moozh's courses that he took in the summer was on Vocation Work and Ministry. It really focussed on being obedient to the things that you want
Basically this is all to explain a recent absence in my posting. I definitely want to keep a record of what I am accomplishing in posting about them. If anything, that may motivate me to actually do new things because if I don't post anything, you'll think I've given up. Peer pressure has it's bonuses.

So here are my goals:

~ I will be writing a TON more. Not just for my program, but for me too. In the past week I have given myself full days worth of time where I create a space and an opportunity to write and I totally forgot how much I love it! Donald Miller writes about how there are some authors who like to be special and successful  and talk about their books to people but they actually don't enjoy the act of writing. I'm the opposite. I love to write. I don't want to talk about it, how it's going, etc. Some of this writing I hope to post here, but not all of it.
~ Craft Night! Craft nights are so fun. A cafe I worked at in Cowtown started it all. The girls who worked there would get together and crochet or knit. Then Bubby's in Victoria we did the same thing. A different person would host every couple weeks and would pick a different craft to teach to everybody. I know so many wonderful, inspiring, creative women in Bankybear that would make a craft so freakin' fun. And one of them is pregnant which puts a whole different purpose behind crafting, am I right?
~ 100 Books to Read Before you Die: Being in a literature class and a history class this summer reminded me how much I love to read, both fiction and non-fiction. To be a good writer, you have to be a good reader. It also makes you a good speller. (Speller? Spellist? I think 'speller' is kind of like 'funnest'. It doesn't sound right but it technically is.) I have tentatively decided on this list. It's not exhaustive by any means and there are a lot of classics that I want to read that aren't on there. I may have to create my own list. Any suggestions?
~ I posted a while ago about wanting to work my way through the ReBar Cookbook and the Joy of Cooking. Nothing really happened with that hey? Well I have begun. Yesterday I made bread from the JOC, which malfunctioned slightly, so I don't have a picture and last Friday I made pie crust from the JOC, which also didn't' turn out. Hmm. I will make something that will turn out :) I have a zucchini on my counter that is almost a foot and a half long so something will become of that. Maybe I'll take a break from the JOC for a few recipes. It's a gooder but my track record thus far is disappointing.
Plus: Moozh is going to culinary school so as he works through that there will definitely be pictures of his process and his yummy creations!
~ Photography: Bankybear is a physically breathtaking city and there is so much to see. I don't want to leave after three years here and not have anything to show for it. And there is nothing I love more than looking through old pictures. Friends of ours Marcus and Megs moved back to Winnipeg this spring but they really inspired us in photography. Megs does photography and Marcus is a web designer but they have the coolest creative partnership and gave us some really great ideas for getting started.
~ 12 Project: I already do this with my bestie Lacey but I've wanted to do it with Moozh for a long time and just never got around to it. (You seeing a theme?) So at least, once a month I want to have a picture of Moozh and I, ya know, for posterity. When we're grumpy and old, we can look back on our blithely happy faces and tight bodies and reminisce. So can our kids ;)

And in the midst of all of this I will be in school at the same time. So balance is key. But I didn't have any balance this past year and goals are fun. Here's to the Age of Intentionality. Kind of sounds like I should be wearing a hoop skirt.

Blue Bird Creative

"Everybody look to their left, everybody look to their right…"

Whoa. I just read my previous entry. Kind sounds like I was watching a tv show while I was writing. Which I was. Resolution #1: No creative multi-tasking. That is how you get personality disorders.

This week has gone by so fast and has really been so bizarre. Quite a bit of tension has been released but I feel a bit like I'm wandering around waiting to be the victim of slap-ass. Or the Gobble Gobble game. Have you ever played that? It's when you try to grab the skin underneath your opponents chin and you hold it until they say "Gobble gobble!" It's a bit like "Uncle" but so much better. My sister is the queen of that game. I, consequently, always lose. I've had bruises under my chin.

Next Friday will be the culmination of my year at UBC. My application to the creative writing program will be in and the Lord has it from there. Everything will be awesome, I know it. If my original plan had worked, I would be in Toronto studying fashion at Ryerson University and I would be so unhappy. Instead, I am married to my hot husband, I live in an adorable hobbit hole in a beautiful city and I'm in a program that, though at times it infuriates me, leaves me inspired and eager to slog through the frustration. The Lord has been teaching me a lot lately just about trusting him. And to not worry and fixate on the minutae of my life but find joy in all that is going on around me. My sister-in-law AND my sister are getting married this summer. The Lord is so in their relationships and in how they are moving through life. We've had a couple of friends pop out gorgeous healthy babies that will be presidents and wholesome pop stars one day. Flowers are growing! Out of the ground!

Aside from that, I have lots to keep me busy. Today was the first day that my swim was really impressive. I think it has to do something with me…eating before hand. Why has nobody told me this?! I am trying to wrap my head around personal genomics. One huge 'hella yeah' to whoever not only understands that but is majoring in it. I pretty much just nod when they ask me if I understand so that they won't keep me after class and say, "So, umm…should you be here?"

And allergies are here! Woot.

Linkies:
~ Umm I don't know about y'all (because I'm southern now) but these sound phenomenal. Like some of the comments say, I don't know if these would make it into anything but my mouth but they would be uh to the mazing.
~ My heart is warmed by how everyone is using all they have at their disposal to raise financial aid for Japan. Go onto any site and type in "Japan Earthquake Relief" and it is beautiful what you find.
~ This has been on my mind a lot lately. I don't know if it's because of anxiety over career or anxiety over pregnancy. Maybe it's because I'm writing a paper on stay at home dads. Either way, imma obsessed.

~ This is beautiful, especially as a table centrepiece.
~ Ha, I don't know why I found this so funny. It's actually really cool in it's own way. A different kind of boudoir session. Ummm safe for work?
~ I think I'm gonna make this. This seems to be the only way I can wholeheartedly take in St. Pat's this year.

Tomorrow's TGIF!

So scared of getting older. I'm only good at bein' young.

What's the biggest sacrifice you've ever made for another person? Was it worth it?

My independence is easily one of the most powerful forces in my life. It is in being alone that I get recharged. It is being alone that I am most productive. It is when I am alone that I can be the most selfish. I've often been very selfish with my time with everyone in my life. I trained my friends and family growing up that leaving me alone was a necessary factor to bei

ng in relationship with me. It is only since I got married and had my heart burst wide open that I realize how unwise this is.

Giving up my independence, or more accurately, transforming my independence when I got married has been a profound change for me. Being in love and desiring to be around him all the time, I thought little of what my independence looks like. But marriage educates you in that very quickly. I missed having my own bed. I missed being able to go where I wanted to when I wanted to. But then seeing, the breath of my marriage and when it skipped along and when it sagged and heaved. Loneliness, nightly panic attacks, busy minds and heavy hearts melt away the moment we can sink into that sacred space. My husband wants me to be fulfilled and free. How independence changes in marriage is not entr

apment. Independence in marriage is not selfishness. And the personal metamorphosis that occurs in exploring these things and figuring them out is incredible.

What makes marriage, in its purest, truest form, so profound to me is the exchange of yourself for something infinitely different and complex. You are not merely yourself anymore, you are a unit. Two souls fuse. They become one in their intentions, goals and focus. Myself being nurtured is inextricably one with nurturing my partner.

We create worlds in each other and the vibrancy of marriage is dependent on that aspect. When you forget and disregard that, you negate the force that the Lord has chosen to move most in your life through. No one knows me better than my husband. There are people who have known me longer, who have seen me through stag

es but my husband is only one I give my life to.

And having independence and surrendering independence in marriage is not unified across the board. And for me it has been important to be vigilant of how I contextualize that sacrifice in my mind. I can see as it was taken or that I unwillingly, unknowingly gave it up. But then I stare those feelings in the face and I see they are created out of selfishness. For some women, keeping their name is a big deal. For me it wasn't. For some, having defined roles in the home is important. For some, gender roles are important, childhood traditions, spending habits. Each couple has their hill to die on. But it's theirs. And they do it together.

In other words, it's pretty amazing.

Cute!

"See Jesus, see Judas...See Ceasar, see Brutus."

This is pillaged from a 'Blog of Note'

10 Things about Myself that I think are interesting:

10. I'm going into debt for a degree that won't get me a job. Creative Writing is a blessed department but it houses the people in the world who will be asked 'Where do you wait tables?" after they tell people what they do for a living. Going to school won't make me a better writer. It will make me a more aware writer. It will arm me with connections, possible publication credits and lots of constructive feedback but the quality of my talent relies heavily upon my passion for growth and my humility.

9. I'm a year into my marriage and I'm twenty-one. I am twenty-one chronologically at least. Age is a disarmingly amorphous concept for me. I don't feel twenty-one because I don't have any idea of what twenty-one is supposed to feel like. I'll be twenty-two in a couple of months but when I say that I find that no expectations boil up within me. I don't know if being married

saved me from all that. Marriage has absolutely been the most enlightening, emboldening, dynamic and refining experiences of my life, of life period. No I'm not too young. No it's not always a cake walk. Yes it is the best. The best.

8. I'm obsessed with words. I love them. I love how they sound, I love how they feel, I love how they act and what they mean. Taking another language has proven that to me. Assonance and alliteration. Syllables. Consonants. It is all great. Tickling. Jamaican ginger. "Sail in the frail bark of flesh".

7. I am already a published author. I don't actually count it among the things I brag about (like the facts that I have a hot husband or that I'm learning Russian). It was an amazing experience and it taught me a lot about who I am as a writer and what it takes to be a mature writer. Becoming a mature is still a ways off for me but I at least know some of the things that are required. The published (and unpublished) writers I know I respect very much because they all learned it the legit way.

6. I come from a very peculiar, gorgeous French-Scandinavian family. Each and every member

of my family I hold a great amount of respect for (even though at times I do not like them). Oo menya yist dve costri (I have two sisters) ee adeen brata (and one brother). They are some of

the most creative people I know. My parents are just freakin' real. They've done real shit. They've seen real disappointments. They've been through the actual trying times of life, everything from "I hate my job" to "I hate myself" and they are still here and they are not afraid. They are powerful.

5. I am a Christian and that is one of the most conflicting statementsof my personhood. I am aware in a way I can't ignore that I (and therefore my life, thoughts, and actions) do not exist in a vacuum. I've struggled since I was in junior high, staring at the Jerry Falwells and the George Bushes of the world to try and associate what I believe as the same as them. But then I look at the Rob Bells, the Donald Millers, the Henry Nouwens of the world and I absolutely adore who they are and what they stand for. I do not only believe in Christ, I have given my life to him.

4. I absolutely had more fun as a blonde.

3. I love my in-laws. Legit. Some people have horror stories about their in laws, which in most cases is just people being...people. It's the family you got without a choice by making a choice to make your own family. Matt and I went on vacation with his parents this summer and it was so so so awesome. They make me laugh.

2. I have three scars. One is on my left eyelid from when I had chicken pox as a kid. Now eyelashes don't grow there anymore. One is just below my left eyebrow. I was hit in the face by a metal clothing rack when I worked retail after graduation. I had an awesome shiner for a couple days. And I got workers comp! The last runs all the way up the inside of my left calf from when I was landscaping before I got married. It's about 8 inches long and I scraped it against a piece of plastic poking through a garbage bag. And now it's here forever.

1. I play the trumpet, I love to dance and I sew. I'm not Miles Davis, Mia Michaels or Maria Von Trapp but those are things I love. I have a beautiful silver trumpet from a beautiful grandfather of mine. I have hips that sway from everything from the national anthem to Stevie Wonder. And I made my wedding dress and I liked it.