Simple Summer Savorings...

Because Life is a Journey and not a Race...
And because Happiness is not a Destination, but a manner of travelling your way There...

 (Because we like to try and drown ourselves daily.....)

Because Life is full of a lot of the same...

Day after Day.
Diaper after diaper.
Meal after Meal.
Laundry Load after Laundry Load.

Wash, Rinse, Repeat....
Of such is all of Life....
Or, at least the life of a Mama...

Because of all of this...
It's good to remember some things....

"It is the Joy of the small that makes Life large...."  ~ Ann Voskamp

And it is in the counting of the small gifts that makes Life Full...
And Free...
And Life Giving.

Gardens growing.  Happiness.

Because Maine summers are the tiniest of blips in the course of our year...
And because living with Children teaches you how to Savor the Simple.

 Like plopping down on the grass and watching your lap get filled up with Love....

Or sneaking out to the back porch first thing in the morning with your Sister Friend ~

~ Bedhead, jammies, and all.... ~

Because

It's the little things.

The things we can miss if we do not choose to see.

Because Joy is never tied up into things you can buy...
And because He is the Source of it all.

Slow...
See the Sacred in the Chaos...

Somebody thinks she can just start walking all on her own....
No permission was given for this.

Count the Gifts.
Thank the Gift Giver....

~ My four little souls who remind me....day after day after day.
~ And for six little souls total...who fill own Home with Crazy...but our Hearts with Love...
~ Soul friends with which to walk life alongside.
~ Morning coffee on the back deck...gentle breezes...slow starts to the day.
~ A bed not big enough for the six of us first thing in the morning.
~ Simple days.  No agendas.
~ Learning to give myself grace.  And others.
~ Settling into "my best," as opposed to everyone else's.
~ Finding....finally, a whole year later...truly finding my rhythm as a Mama of four...
~ Learning...and re-learning...that "comparison destroys contentment."

~ Resting.  In His Grace.
~ Celebrating.  Summer and the pace that comes with it.
~ Accepting.  That "Life" is big.  And I am not...
~ Growing.  As a Mama.  As a perfectionist.  As one who likes her lists checked off....
~ Savoring.  Summer simplicity in our own backyard....
~ Finding Freedom.  In accepting that I cannot do it all.
~  Acknowledging.  My need for Him...in everything....
~  Finding Joy....in knowing that in Him...I am enough....
~ She and I...just us...first thing every morning.
~ He and I...just us...to end our every evening.

~ #5192-5211.  My Joy Journey...

"Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under the trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of water, or watching the clouds float across the blue sky, is by no means a waste of time."
~ Sir John Lubbock

Boy Camping.

Every year, to kick off summer vacation in the most epic of fashions, my boys - along with one of Kev's best friends and his boy - go on an "all guy only" three day and two night tenting and fishing trip down in the Mattagamon wilderness.  They have been doing this since Jesse was about three years old, and it's one of their absolute most favorite summer traditions.  We were trying to remember exactly what number trip this makes for the guys, and we think this is about their 5th go around.  This year was Ransom's first to join the big boys, so London and I were left home alone, free and clear of all things loud and rowdy.

Three hour nap.  Right here on the side of the river.

Every year, the boys tell me somewhat sheepishly that they're going to miss me, and they really wish that I could go, but "This is just an all boys, no girls allowed trip...you understand, don't you Mama?"

Oh yes, my Loves.
Trust me.  No hard feelings here.
All boy trips have quite a different flavor than the trips that have one or two women present.

Exhibit A:

This year, "just for fun" they decided to walk a mile and a half into the fly infested woods to look for a fishing hole that  might possibly be amazing.  It might not be too.  But, we should check it out "just for fun."  They caught a kajillion bug bites - and very few if any fishies - and then traipsed themselves a mile and half back out the same trail.  Three miles.  Round trip.  Straight into Bug Land.

So sad I missed that experience, said I, not even once in my life.....

And Exhibit B:

The crowning moment of this entire all-boy trip, however -  that I'm not even the least bit sorry that I missed out on, by the way - was in the middle of one of those nights, one of the boys completely woofed his cookies all over one of the other boys...and the completely hurled on boy had nary a clue that it even happened.  He just kept on sleeping all blissy like.  Well, that is until the next morning when he crawled out of the tent with the entire front of his shirt covered, and he said to his father in the most curious of voices:  "Um, Daddy?  There's something slimy all over my shirt...and it smells like puke!"  Aaaah, well Buddy....that's because it is puke.

Classic.
They'll be talking about this for years to come.

In fact, Kev took vast amounts of glee and pleasure in re-telling me this story while I was trying to eat my supper after coming home from work the next night.  We almost had "Hurl Your Cookies, The Sequel," right there on my couch.  That would have been fun.  He said:  "I knew it smelled a little growthy in the tent when I woke up in the morning...but you know, there were six guys sleeping in there."

And there you have it:  Exhibit C of why I'm not sad that I couldn't go.
But, I wasn't sad to have them come back home to me, either...

They had a blast.
They ate tons of fun food.
They caught tons of trouties and salmon.

They tubed down the river.
They built fires.
They made their own schedules.
They never changed their undies.
And they came home filthy, stinky, and filled right up to the tippy top brim with HAPPY.

This.  I Love....

Camp Grub.

Okay.

So...one of my very most favorite things to do when we go camping is sit around a glorious fire with all of my friends and family around me, sharing stories, being cozy, sipping large cups of camp coffee, and eating all things burned/toasted/roasted/cooked or what-have-you- over an old coleman stove or just the plain old camp fire.

It's my fave.
And I can handle the smoke in my eyes like nobody's business.
Once my rump is down in that camp chair with coffee in hand, I am staying put, no matter what.

So, every year we do the classic s'mores, pudgy pie pizzas and berry pies, etc. etc.  Sometimes we mix the fillings up and use cookies or reese's cups instead of the chocolate; and sometimes we vary our pie fillings from blueberry to apple...or fluff with raspberry jam.

We're pretty sophisticated that way...

Pancakes, bacon, and eggs....all with a wee little essence of fire.  I heart this.

Well, this year, I just wasn't feeling it.
I wanted something new and glorious.
I wanted to impress my folks and get my boys a'raving.
And I found the ticket, ya'll...

Homemade.  Fire Roasted.  Deelish.  Boston Cream Pies.
Or Eclairs.  Or Boston Cream Donuts.  Call them whatever you'd like.
I call them a plain old Party In My Mouth.

Easy Peasy.  Cheap.  And fun to make.
Here's what you need:

We actually didn't end up using the hot fudge topping.  Chocolate frosting is what was recommended - which I also didn't have any of, but, my Daddy-O has a crazy stash of everything-you-can-think-of, and he whipped out a jar of Nutella to use in place of both the fudge and the frosting.

Best choice ever.  SO good.

So.

You need to find a relatively thick stick - one larger than what you would cook a hotdog on.  It doesn't matter if you found it lying on the ground in the woods, because you're going to wrap some tinfoil around the end of said stick and then you'll take one of those triangles of crescent roll dough and kind of form it all around the foil.

Besides, a little dirt never hurt.
That's what the experts all around are telling us these days.
I knew it all along....

Once you wrap the dough around your stick, you kind of want to cook it hot and fast.  Don't slow roast it like you would a marshmallow or it starts to get all slimy and slide off the stick.  I think it's probably because there is so much butter in these things.  You don't want to get it too close to the flames and burn it, either.  It's a delicate dance here.  You can't rush perfection...but you can go too slowly as well...

Just buy extra crescent rolls.
You're going to want more than one anyways.
Trust me.

Once your roll is toasted a lovely golden brown, gently ease it off the stick.  It's going to be HOT!!
Fill that baby right up to the tippy top brim with vanilla pudding, and then top it all off with Nutella.

Ease back into that camp chair and welcome yourself into A Little Piece of Heaven.
You are most welcome....

One more fun little tradition that Dad always brings along with him is all of the fixings for Bannock Bread, or what some might call "Cowboy Bread."  Basically, he fills an old coffee can up with all of the dry ingredients for a simple, yeast-less bread dough - flour, salt, baking soda, and baking powder.

He typically likes to wait until the Darrah girls come and visit us.
Then he has free labor.

It's kind of a messy job, so we lay down wax paper, and then he gives each kid a cupful of the flour mix to make their own "individual pizzas."  They add a little bit of water to their dry mix, roll it out, and then add whatever sauces and topping they want... and create to their heart's content.

Dad butters up a skillet on the Coleman stove, and as soon as the kids make 'em, he cooks 'em...
Another yummy way to eat them is just plain with butter and jam.

So, there you have it.
A couple of fun camp foodies to try the next time you're sitting around a campfire...

That's right.

Father's Day.

They say that often a little girl grows up to marry a man much like her own father.
They say that if a little girl has a good relationship with her own Daddy, she will grow up with a healthy view of men and of marriage.

Chances are greater that she will view her own Heavenly Father as good.
As trustworthy.
And as safe.

Well, I am no expert... and I am no student of such things as these...
But, I am a student of life.
And I have indeed had success in this thing called Love.

No little girl could have asked for a better childhood than me.
No young woman could have asked for a better man to lead her in all things Marriage and Love.
And no 4 little babies could have asked for a more doting father who loves with wild abandon - completely full and free.

We are blessed indeed.
Pressed down, pouring over, above and beyond all that we could have ever asked for or imagined - Blessed.

To my own Father - the first man I ever fell in love with - I thank you.
For my childhood. 
For your example. 
For the safety of your arms. 
And for the security of my Home.

To my Husband - the only man who has ever captured my heart completely - I love you.
For who you are. 
For your example. 
For the safety of your arms. 
And for this wild and crazy life.

And to the Father of my children - I honor you. 
And I respect you like none other.

For looking to your own Heavenly Daddy to teach you - when you had no earthly Dad of your own.
For being strong....in your gentleness, in your vulnerability, and in your grace.
For bearing this responsibility of Family and of Fatherhood with seriousness and with joy.
For your tender love for Jesus - for your passion and your zeal.

For being the kind of man whom I want my three sons to grow up to be like.
And for being the kind of husband whom I want my London to wait for.

Happy Father's Day, Kev.
How I love you...
You are my greatest gift.

"But who can find a trustworthy man?  A righteous man who walks in his integrity? ~ How blessed are his sons {and daughters :o)} after him." ~ Proverbs 20:6b, 7

"A child is not likely to find a Father in God unless he finds something of God in his father." ~ Austin L Sorenson

This, indeed, is the greatest gift you have given to your children, my Love....

A Camping We Did Go...

We had our birthday camping weekend at Peaks-Kenny State Park last weekend.
And per our tradition, the rains came down and the flies swarmed 'round.

It was lovely.
No, really.  It was.  Most of it.

Our view of the lake the first night there.  We had the place to ourselves.

We have grown to expect these sorts of things, and each year we become a little more fine-tuned in our knowledge of what to expect, so - at least in my boys' minds - even though the forecast predicted rain two out of the three days that we would be there, nary a soul even entertained any thoughts of rescheduling.

Our old bitty jumped in the driver's seat, but we told her she was too old for such a trip.

 One thing we have not become fine-tuned in, is our packing.  Holy Hannah -we don't know how to pack lightly for a camping trip.  I think that we literally brought everything but the kitchen sink....

There are 4 children hidden in this van.

"It's tradition!"  said they with great enthusiasm.  "It always rains when we go camping!"
"For crying out loud!" said I with great irritation.  "Can't it just NOT rain for one. freakin'. year?!!?!?!"

Confession is good for the soul, so I confess that I was less than excited going into this birthday expedition.
Grumpy, might even be a better term to use.
For one thing, London is not walking yet - and she's super busy, so how in the whole wide world was I going to keep her dry?  And remotely clean even?!

 "We'll just roll with it." said Kevy.
So roll with it, we did.

I packed an umbrella stroller, an exersaucer, a swing that we rigged up to a couple of trees, and a backpack - and we basically just rotated between those four things and our tent....

But, long about middle of day two, I just called uncle and let her down.  There is at least one area in her life so far where this child is no girly-girl.  She does not give one flying flip about being dirty.  So, we just let her have at it.

We also gave the Hoolie boys their very own tent this year, and a fabulous idea indeed it was!  They stayed up later, were far stinkier and messier, and they could trash their place with glee - while my tent stayed cleaner, drier, smelling nicer, and it remained much quieter for London and her naps.  Their tent was also lit up with an eerie hue each night by the kajillion glow sticks that they had cracked...along with a June bug or 4 which they had been collecting by flashlight.  No thank you....

All parties involved were quite happy with our arrangement this year...

One of the perks about knowingly camping on a not-so-summery weekend is that you pretty much have the entire campground to yourself.  Most normal people reschedule their trips, because most normal people like to tent in sunshine as opposed to sogginess.  But you know....  whateve.

Another perk about the location where we like to go camping is that there are real toilets.  And showers.  It's really kind of like "gourmet camping."  I like gourmet camping with babies.  It's easier.

 I also like this location because one of my dearest friends lives like 5 minutes down the road with all of my future sons and daughters-in-law.  And none of them give a flying flip about the rain, either.  That makes them super cool in my book.  And maybe not really all that normal, either....

Traditions:  Peaks-Kenny, rain, friends, and pinatas.
Red-neck pinatas, but pinatas, nonetheless....

And food.  We like food.
Another perk about scuzzy-ish weather, is that we just sit around the camp fire and cook a lot.
It's glorious, really.

Dad's fudge.  My drug of choice.

Dad likes putting the Darrah girls to work making campfire fudge, cowboy bread, and whatever else he can think of.  We all love these girls.  And we love their Mama and Daddy, too.  Did you know that they actually fell in love in my old kitchen at home - washing my Mama's dishes?  It's true.  They can thank me for all of these offspring of theirs...

Here's a  rare moment I captured where they are both standing still and not chasing after one of their hilarious little toddler twin boys.  I love how we have flipped worlds:  me to all things baby girl, and her to all things little boy.  God has a funny sense of humor..

All in all, it was a fabulous weekend.
The kids ran wild and free.
Grampy's and Grammy's came to play.

We ate a ton of fun camp food...
...and bugs.
And coffee.

My brother and wife and their sweet little boys joined us.
The rain was bearable and not torrential.
The boys were loved on and cousins were friends.

And Wee Missy-Miss camper extraordinaire woke up at 4:45 each morning to let me watch the sunrise.
How very thoughtful of her...

My name is London and I enjoy pooping my pants, playing in potty water, waking at zero dark thirty, and looking deliciously cute regardless, so that Mama can't possibly get angry.  I have it down to a science...