• Have a special prayer time each morning with your family. Use simple prayers, perhaps thanking God for the birds who are starting to return, the coldness that comes before the buds on trees, and the preparation of the soil for a new garden.

• In the early evenings, notice the changing phases of the moon. The days are lengthening during this time, and this is a tangible way to mark that change. Also, Easter will come after the full moon that follows the first day of Spring (the vernal equinox).

• On Ash Wednesday, place a bowl of dirt on your kitchen table. This will be your centerpiece throughout Lent. On Palm Sunday (the Sunday before Easter), sprinkle some grass seed in your bowl. You will have grass growing in your bowl for Easter! (The Easter hare also may add a few died eggs to the dish for children to find in the morning).

Finding tangible ways to mark the festivals and seasons of the year is one of the ways that we center our home life on family and create traditions. These are three ideas we will be trying in our house this Lent. How do you share Lent with your children?

Now though, we have reached a new February in a brand new decade (Happy new year!). And I find that I have many things I want to write about. In the coming weeks, look for posts about animals and God, schooling decisions (B— starts kindergarten in the fall), celebrating Valentine’s Day, and creating Lenten family rituals. As always, I look forward to sharing with and learning from you all.

Advent

Earth grown old, yet still so green,
Deep beneath her crust of cold
Nurses fire unfelt, unseen:
Earth grown old.

We who live are quickly told:
Millions more lie hid between
Inner swathings of her fold.

When will fire break up her screen?
When will life burst thro’ her mould?
Earth, earth, earth, thy cold is keen,
Earth grown old.

Today is the last day of November, which means that it is the last day of National Blog Posting Month. My November challenge was to write for this blog every day, no matter how the day went. So, I posted when my 4-year-old was sick, when I was sick, when we were on a trip, when I was tired, and on a holiday. Here are a few things I learned.

First, there is something to be said for the discipline of writing every day, regardless of how inspired I feel. In many ways, I grew with this blog as I considered new styles and subjects on which to post. I strived and struggled to make almost every post this month something of substance that I hoped would be worth reading. Some of my favorite posts (like “Stillness in Chaos: The Practice of Centering Prayer” and “On Squeamishness and Being a Boy Mom”) came about at the end of a long day when I didn’t feel like writing. A few posts (like “On Dreaming”) experimented with new writing styles, an exercise I found it to be freeing. I also enjoyed a new rhythm by offering Wednesday Night Poems…which challenged me to pour over poetry to find gems to share.

A second lesson is that sometimes it’s good not to post. There were a couple of days (like when I found out my dog is sick and when I was on a date) where I posted only so that I would meet my quota. On those occasions, I felt like I was doing a disservice to my readers. I didn’t start this blog to be a life confessional (although I have read some excellent blogs in that genre). I started it to share ideas and thoughts…and to gain inspiration from others. However, when I post every, every day, a few of those posts end up being in the “this-is-about-me” style, and I get tired of my own voice. I hope that such posts were kept to a minimum for readers.

My biggest surprise was the massive popularity of “Geoff’s Famous Maple Bourbon Pecan Pie.” That post garnered almost twice the views of my next-highest-read post (on centering prayer). My personal favorite post this month was “The Autumnal Art of Being Cold.” This post was inspired by some other blog readings (linked in my post) and my reality. For some reason, transcribing those experiences onto the screen made them more concrete for me. And, as the season has gotten colder, I have been even more conscious of the art of creating warmth for my family than I was before I wrote the post.

In the end, one of the hardest aspects of blogging for me is the uncertainty of reader response. Does my writing make sense? Does it challenge readers as something new, familiar, or disagreeable? Which sort of posts do readers prefer and why? In short, does Basil & Butterflies overall resonate with an audience? These are questions about which I have little insight.

One thing I do know is that Ba&Bu has a core group of readers (Feedburner statistics, comments, and emails indicate that). This is gratifying knowledge that inspires me to keep writing for this blog (and to hold out hope that someday my book will find an audience).

If you have the chance and inclination, I would love to hear back from readers about this month. Which posts work(ed) for you and which didn’t? Why? Ba&Bu is a work in progress. I am excited to watch (and participate in) its evolution. I hope you are too!

The core of my theology (thinking about God) is that it has to be lived or it is meaningless. I have an earthy concept of God, based on a Creator who became incarnate (took on flesh) in the form of a low-born baby. God’s good creation is full of unexpectedness like incarnation. Thus, we are called to engage this world for what it is: a sacred place where every being matters. We find God in relationships when we love, serve, welcome, offer hope, and are filled with joy and wonder. The ways we respond to one another and creation, the ways we affect one another, these are the opportunities to live a Spirit-filled life or not.

With this understanding, I try to live according to my calling, with the general belief that God’s creation is good and intentional, and that my imperfections, though many, are not roadblocks to God. This affects my parenting style (where I see aspects from breastfeeding to encouraging imagination as sacred acts), my health philosophy (good nutrition, time outdoors, and balance promote good health), and my creative impulses (humans are creative beings, made in the image of a creator God). My beliefs also lead me to seek opportunities to serve others. (This blog partly springs from that desire.)

So, yes, here you may find posts on centering prayer mixed in with recipes for delicious homemade food (good nutrition and hospitality). Or you may find posts on serving the hungry mixed with parenting lessons and poetry. All of these writings are about striving to live consciously, with wonder in a sacred world, where God’s presence is palpable and all our actions matter.

This period of waiting and preparing is such a special one. It distinguishes the month of December from a purely commercial season, by encouraging patience, steadfastness, trust, mindfulness, hospitality, and generosity. In churches and homes, we may mark the season with wreaths and calendars. Each week, we light a new candle on our Advent wreath to show the ever-growing light of the coming Christ in the darkness of winter. Each day, we open a new door on our calendar to mark the rhythm of the season. Every moment, we prepare ourselves and our families for the coming event. And as our anticipation grows, so does our outflow of generosity, love, peace, and hope.

Over the next few weeks, I will share some of the ways my family enjoys the Advent season. I am also interested in how you spend Advent. So, please check back frequently and share liberally.

May mindfulness, peace, and joy be yours this Advent season.

Brute consumption is the point of Black Friday. Any sale scheme that entices customers to part with their money is deemed fair game. And, really, I can’t blame businesses, whose whole purpose is to make a profit. But, I do often wonder about the society, we as a whole, are creating where finding deals and finding more stuff (as opposed to necessities) is so thrilling. My local news carried a story yesterday about people who got in line on Thanksgiving for deals on Black Friday. Presumably, at least some of these folks had families; yet, for some reason these people found it more compelling to get in line for stuff than to spend time with those families.

I wonder if we are sacrificing too much in the ironic quest to obtain things we don’t need. In exchange for free services and low-cost goods, we get phone solicitations at home (interrupting family time), we take in hundreds (if not thousands) of advertisements per day, we cut short family time to seek out and pay for better deals, and we allow a holiday that was originally about the miracle of Incarnation to be transformed into a “season” of buying. Of course, this doesn’t even get into the ecological, social justice, and moral costs of contributing to a consumption-focused society.

So, I understand the impetus for movements like “Buy Nothing Day.” The organizers of this day specifically ask people to buy nothing on Black Friday (hopefully also including incurring limited utility costs by unplugging appliances, etc.). It may seem as if only a coordinated effort will have any effect on the spiraling culture of consumption. I commend their efforts at raising public awareness about the day, but this movement isn’t really my bag either. Why? Because Buy Nothing Day comes across as the exact opposite of Buy Everything Day (Black Friday), right down to dictating how people should spend their day.

I am interested in more organic pursuits. If people have something that they need (say, a new refrigerator), why shouldn’t they go and purchase it on the day of a sale where they can save $250? This is even more crucial in our current reality in the United States, where 1 out of every 10 people is at least 30 days behind on their mortgages, and our unemployment rate is an increasing 10.2 percent. If Black Friday deals make it possible for people to afford winter coats or household goods, who am I to tell them that they shouldn’t support the institution of Black Friday?

In the end, I suppose the element of Black Friday that bothers me most is the notion that people who miss out on the deals are fools…that everyone can be persuaded by bright signs and shiny tchotkes to part with their hard-earned money.  But, it is almost as irritating to be told that people are wrong or bad for participating in the day. Either way, there are implied, judgment-based messages of how people should spend their time on the day after Thanksgiving. I prefer to move past this notion that people are animals (sheep, anyone?) who can be prodded with relative ease into a course of action that may be contrary to the interests of their families. Of course, moving past this farm framework may take a coordinated movement…

By the way, my family had a fantastic Black Friday. We went on a hike and spent money on dinner out (which included a shared pumpkin milkshake at an outside table….cold, but hilarious). I suppose, we were in-between on the spectrum of spending…the retail folks would be unhappy with us, as would the buy-nothing group. But we had a fun, memorable day. And that’s what matters to me.

Sweet dreams.

Posting a poem on Wednesday nights is part of my Ba&Bu rhythm. It feels all the more appropriate on this quiet night before a lively, chaotic, and comforting day. As we put the final touches on our Thanksgiving feasts, I offer a lovely poem by Christina Rossetti. This is a poem of labor, life, and hope.

Peace to you.

Up-Hill

Does the road wind up-hill all the way?
Yes, to the very end.
Will the day’s journey take the whole long day?
From morn to night, my friend.

But is there for the night a resting-place?
A roof for when the slow dark hours begin.
May not the darkness hide it from my face?
You cannot miss that inn.

Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?
Those who have gone before.
Then must I knock, or call when just in sight?
They will not keep you standing at that door.

Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak?
Of labor you shall find the sum.
Will there be beds for me and all who seek?
Yea, beds for all who come.

Our recipe for Maple Bourbon Pecan Pie is from a 1999 issue of Martha Stewart Living magazine (which makes this our decade year with this pie). Geoff makes this pie so well that I have actually seen grown adults tear up at the table when they take a bite. Part of this is my husband’s natural talent, no doubt. But as you can see, the recipe is also pure genius. (Note, I am not including a crust recipe, but I do recommend a homemade one, if possible). Enjoy!

The Pie

Ingredients

All-purpose flour, for dusting
Pie Dough
1 cup sugar
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
4 large whole eggs
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons dark corn syrup
1/2 cup pure maple syrup
2 tablespoons bourbon
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups (5 1/4 ounces) pecan halves
2 large egg yolks
2 tablespoons heavy cream
Whipped cream (optional—not really though)

Directions

1. On a lightly floured surface, roll dough to 1/8 inch thick. Transfer to a 9-inch pie tin, leaving a 1/2-inch overhang. Fold overhang under evenly. Transfer lined pie tin to refrigerator. Chill for at least 30 minutes.
2. Heat oven to 400 degrees. In a medium bowl, whisk together sugar, butter, 4 whole eggs, corn syrup, maple syrup, bourbon, and vanilla. Fold in half the pecan halves. Pour filling into pie shell; arrange remaining pecan halves on top of pie.
3. Score the outer rim of pie. Beat 1 egg yolk, and brush over hatch marks. Chill the pie for 30 minutes. Mix 2 tablespoons heavy cream with remaining egg yolk. Brush the egg glaze over the leaves, and transfer pie to the oven.
4. Bake 15 minutes, then reduce heat to 350 degrees. Bake until a knife tip comes out clean, about 1 hour 15 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature.