joyfully gray

Soup Riddle

2014-02-03T21:39:00.002-06:00

This morning the sky is a fresh white and there is s snowy sleet on the ground. These are my favorite winter days because I know that Lucia and I will most likely be home from school tomorrow and I am giddy over the prospect of taking all the vegetables in the fridge and throwing them together in a huge pot of soup. A soup that everyone will eat because, hey -- there is nothing else in the house to eat and hell, it is cold outside, so we are supposed to eat soup anyway.

So soup it is.

I will stress over the consistency of it -- either it will be too thick and porridge like or it will be too thin and soup-like. It will be quite the conundrum. I will also talk to myself while pouring the soup into the blender to blend it all up, promising that one day I will just get an immersion blender and next time the soup will not be so bloody difficult to make. It's soup for God's sake. I will think of my friend, Sasha, who has watched me make soup, because I make it for everyone because it is just what I do, I make soup. I will even hear her saying, "why don't you just get an immersion blender, they only cost thirty dollars, Sarah." Except next year will come and I will have the same conversation with myself and I will hear her saying the same damn thing in my head all over again, just like she said three years ago.

And some winters eve next year, I will host a soup party with an extra special array of fancy soup garnishes, because - hey - I make soup and I make it pretty -- and I will have to use the blender twice as many times because so many people are coming over for the soup that I will have doubled the recipe that I made up in my head. And there, in that moment, again, I will curse myself for having to transfer all the soup into the blender and back again to the pot. The steam will burn my hands and if I do not hold the lid tight enough on top of the blender, bits of soup porridge will splatter the wall. And then it will be over and I will clean the blender up and not think about it again until the next soup day comes along -- because it is below freezing outside -- and I have extra carrots on hand.

When I finally get the soup on the table, I will ask Matt a thousand times if it is good, "Is it delicous? Is it good enough? Do you need something else with it? Do you feel like it is hearty? Too thick? Should I have added more broth? It is more like mashed potatoes than soup, isn't it?" And he will try to have all the right answers and be just dodgy enough with the wrong answers that he can sway my mind back to the middle. But I will fret and stew some more. Then I will promise grilled cheeses with the next batch because everyone likes grilled cheese with their soup and maybe it will be tomato -- I have a really great homemade tomato soup recipe that I have been wanting to try -- because won't that be good, Matt? Homemade tomato soup with grilled cheese? We will definitely have to try that. I have never made my own tomato soup before and I wonder how it would turn out -- most definitely, at least better than a can of tomato soup. Right, Matt?

Where is Lucia? She needs to try my damn soup. And someone please pass the salt.

Bits and Bobs

2014-01-12T10:32:00.000-06:00

Here lately

2013-12-10T10:25:00.001-06:00

Lucia and I have been home for an early holiday - iced in our house! We have escaped a few times, ventured to The Rink - our favorite vintage mall, she's played in the snow with her dad, and we have had coffee and biscuits at Ingrid's - another of our favorite OKC locales. My favorite thing, however, has been the evenings inside, bundled up and watching White Christmas - over and over again. We have also had our fair share of viewing The Rockettes Christmas via Netflix. Well, let's be clear, I watch the Rockettes, Lucia dances along with them. This am we have made smoothies and this afternoon we are trying our hand at some Christmas baking. xoxoxo

Best days ever.

Lucia Lately: Almost Four Years

2013-09-11T20:32:00.001-05:00

"You silly"

"Ru-telly"

What does "quit" mean?

Well then, I quit eating carrots, they are for bunnies anyway. And I am not a bunny, right?

On a Sunday

2013-05-26T20:58:00.000-05:00

Father John Misty's vinyl humming in the background; I at the stove with brussels sprouts sizzling and Matt and Lucia on the patio grilling burgers - with the occasional plea for supplies: buns, cheese, hey, could you bring me a serving platter in a few minutes? These requests to me in-between spouting fatherly reminders to Chee - mind your pretty blue dress, if you want to play in the dirt, at least disrobe before running a muck!

Lucia asking to watch Aristocats eight different times over the course of dinner. The two of us finally convincing her that our company is more favorable. And she, finally giving in, and dancing to Daft Punk while we cleared the dishes from the table.

Not long after, she was sneaking away to play dress up in her room, only coming out on occasion to model an outfit change. The girl and her unmatched ability to create - skirts over her head, one shoulder exposed, layered beneath it another skirt of bright colors; ribbons draped in various ways; and always a different stuffed animal at her side.

Then the quiet night settling in over us - a blanket of Oklahoma heat.
Teeth brushing, strawberry face scrubbing.
Soon to say goodnight.
Counting our blessings one by one.

www.joyfullygray.us is now www.joyfullygray.blogspot.com

2013-03-26T10:14:00.000-05:00

Hi everyone - www.joyfullygray.us is no longer our domain. We are only using a {free} domain now: www.joyfullygray.blogspot.com. Please update your bookmarks! The new address will be updated on blog lovin, pinterest, rss and all that jazz! Thanks.
Sarah

Dear Little Chee

2013-03-18T09:00:00.003-05:00

Four.

You are four-years-old. The days preceding your birthday, your dad and I kept mentioning our memories of the days leading up to your birth.

Lucia, four years ago today, your mom was very uncomfortable.
Lucia four years ago today, your mom thought she would wake up in labor any night.
Lucia, four years ago today, we were very anxious.
Lucia, four years ago today, you were born.

I think about the last four years and cannot believe how quickly they have flown by - like I have said a zillion times before - motherhood has made me the keeper of cliches. Time flies. And yes, babies grow up far too fast. Savoring every minute is crucial because time slips away like sand in a palm.

Gone is our little baby that liked to nurse through the night. Gone is our little toddler hid in the cabinets under bathroom sinks. Gone is the wee one that uttered words such as "bemeber" instead of remember and made up words like "doushane" that actually meant something that we never quite knew.

The days of "Ready or not, here I am not," have over night turned into rhetorically correct game of Hide and Seek - "Ready or not, here I come" you shout, as your dad attempts a good hiding place.

You are a little girl with strong opinions and favorite colors.You have a particular affection for playing pretend, dressing up in tutus and princess dresses at any chance.

Convincing me to read a zillion books to you before bed has become your nightly mission. The Bernstein Bears and The Pigeon stories are your favorites.

You love to visit Briar's house and are slowly learning about Peyton and her need for gentle hands because she is just a tiny tot.

You talk about your best friend, Shoghi nonstop; yesterday he was your prince and he "would be married to you." You came home from school the other day and told me that he had "circles on his head." I replied, "Yes, those are his curls," you adamantly demanded "NO!!! He is a boy and does not have curls! They are circles." Following up with the fact that "he does not have bangs either!" Got it.

You have some interest in being in the kitchen with me, but it does not stretch far beyond whisking the eggs and eating the dough. You request family pancakes on the weekends and would eat nothing but sweets if we would let you.

Riding your bike is your go-to after school activity and you recently started pedaling like a mad woman! (I have never been so proud to see someone pedal).

You are growing up more and more by the day. We love watching you transform into a beautiful little person. Your heart is strong and wild and you have such a kind spirit - I hope, as you develop into the lady that you will become, you never lose these things. You have a creative soul like your mama and a mind as sharp as whip like your daddy's.

My greatest wish for you is that you can someday experience the love that we feel for you with your own child. There is nothing like it. Happy Fourth.

Some things never get old...

2013-01-21T21:11:00.001-06:00

With Love from December

2012-12-30T12:21:00.002-06:00

Here is to the end of a lovely Christmas season and the start of a New Year!

The tree has been undressed and is ready to be recycled - not nearly the teary end of the holiday that I had imagined - there were too many good memories shared throughout December to let its finality knock me down. And so many cherished events and seasons to come in twenty-thirteen.

Here is to holding tight to the ones we love.
To reaching out and loving hard.
To sharing kindness everyday to everyone.
To planting baby trees.
To remembering with fondness those that we have loved and lost.
To holding tight to the power of forgiveness.
To prayer.
To hope.
To new beginnings.

Today we are off to the little town of Ponca City to share in Christmas with our Gray family this afternoon and with our Hobbs tomorrow. So excited to give lots of hugs and kisses and squeeze some nieces and nephews tight!

Cheers to all. xoxo

Hope is the thing with feathers - (314)

2012-12-26T10:15:00.005-06:00

By Emily Dickinson 1830–1886

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

Hope

2012-12-21T20:07:00.000-06:00

I wish the heaviest thing around was the big pot of soup on the stove, but instead, it is my heart. I wish I could easily gush over the gormeant grilled cheese sandwhiches I made, the concoctions of stew that I have been serving up, and how much I enjoy the hum and buzz of tunes that echo from our record player everyday.

But I cannot.

As many joyous things I find to fill my winter days - how I love this season - no matter what I do to spend the chilly time, my thoughts just keep going in one direction.

East.

Sandy Hook Elementary School.

I keep thinking of those babies, those teachers, that community. Those mamas and those papas.

My heart is heavy with ache.

So I am not going to write about my life and my days of late. I am instead sending thoughts and love to Sandy Hook. I am going to pray for that community. I am going to hope. I am going to try to conjure ideas of what I can do to help. If anything. But at least - or until then - I will pray.

Eastward.

For love and peace. For Christmas to fill the hearts of those in such pain.

xoxo

What Love Is: Oklahoma Christmas

2012-12-14T15:10:00.003-06:00

There is a queer peculiarity about the atmosphere when a little family goes-a-Christmas-tree hunting with crunchy leaves under foot and not even the slightest chill in the air.

On such an early December day, we went to meet our tree match. My husband clad in shorts and my daughter, overly dressed in her "snow boots." But I would not have had it any other way. We galloped down the lanes of trees, circled the great harvest with joy, and anticipated the hot cups of chocolate and candy canes we would later have, never minding the seventy degree weather. Lucia scurried in excitement, her daddy yelled from behind to watch for the holes where trees had already been claimed from the earth. From time to time she would give pause and investigate the trees with her mama - me, an overly curious gal, obsessed with the various pine specimens, comparing length of needles and widths between boughs.

Our afternoon was filled with a new tradition - the collection of our first real tree, picked out and fastened to the roof of our car. Our house later filled with the delicious smell of pine, hot cocoa and the sound of Christmas records scratching in the background as we trimmed our pretty. Cozy.

Casseroles and Farewells

2012-12-10T06:30:00.003-06:00

Before December takes full hold of me, I had to set aside a few words for November.

November, my favorite month, swept in quietly from the hold of October and greeted me with the known & thrilling excitement of family, friends and delicious food. November, a month that was kind to us, was filled with much family time - visitors from West Virginia, gatherings in Guthrie with the Grays, the discovery of a new church home and dates with lovely friends.

I could not help to think of Lucia this time last year. Our trip to Houston, her prancing around Sasha's mom's house in point shoes eight times too big. Her words that were there, but more strangled beneath her tongue -slightly less abundant. Suddenly she has blossomed in my eyes. But maybe that is because my memories from this time last year are so prevalent and strong. November has a way of sticking to my bones. I can see her, with her bouncy curls - shorter at the time - requesting milk and sitting on Lance and Sasha's couch, watching Sleeping Beauty. Sasha's childhood bunny at her side. A more limited palate she had - though cheese and jelly toast are still among her favorite snacks - just maybe she shared a few snap peas with me as we put our groceries away last week.

Thoughts of my grandparents and family - memories of my childhood and good times fill my heart during this time of year. I miss those that I cannot be near & hold the ones that I am with even closer. I dream up activities for my little family, try valiantly to create a holiday season for my daughter, just like the ones I always knew.

This year, though I could not have my Grandpa George's green beans or my Grandma Airie's chocolate pie, I made a casserole in their honor - my first ever - because I know they would have had something eighty times more delicious at their table, and I know that they would be proud of me for using that damn stalk of celery: waste not, want not. They must have been watching over me that Thanksgiving morning that I baked because my dish came out of the oven a huge hit - my dad says my Grandma Airie must have left a gift to me. I like that thought.

Happy December.

Ingredients:

1 bunch of celery, thinly sliced
1.5 cans creamy onion soup
1/2 cup sliced almonds
1/2 cup grated parmesan cheese
1/2 cup of bread crumbs
salt and pepper to taste
1 tablespoon of butter

Instructions:
Preheat oven to 375 degrees and prepare a two quart casserole by greasing the bottom and set aside. Chop and prep all other goodies. In dish, layer celery, soup, almonds, cheese and bread crumbs. Repeat. Top with bread crumbs and some dollops of butter. Bake approximately 40 minutes.

Organic Pumpkin Butter: A Neighborly Gift, A November Favorite

2012-12-07T09:07:00.001-06:00

Ingredients:

1 can organic pumpkin puree or approx. 3 1/2 cups or fresh
1 cup organic apple cider
2 teaspoons ogranic ground ginger (optional, sometimes I omit)
1 teaspoon organic ground cloves
1 cup organic brown sugar
2 tablespoons organic ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg

Directions:
1. Combine pumpkin, apple cider, spices, and sugar in a large saucepan and stir well. Bring mixture to a boil, covered.
2. After your mixture stirs up to a boil, reduce heat to and simmer, covered with lid ajar, for 35-45 minutes, stirring frequently.
3. Stir frequently. And be mindful of the pumpkin butter bubbling and popping!
4. Remove from heat and let it sit for a few minutes before removing lid. Adjust spices to taste. Husbands are a great addition to this step - Matt is definitely my taste tester.
5. Once cool, pumpkin butter can be kept in an airtight container in the fridge for up to 3 weeks. Makes enough to fill one large mason jar or several small jars. I like to double the batch and fill about six to seven at a time.
6. I buy my cute mason jars at the local grocer. I have also recently started to collect old jelly jars and have quite the eclectic brigade to to fill next time.
7. Garnish jars with cute ribbon or fabric squares.
8. Deliver to neighbors with cute tags suggesting to serve with fresh bread and butter.

The Second of December

2012-12-03T15:04:00.002-06:00

Decking ourselves in light garb, we spent a seventy-something December Sunday in mid-town.
We walked away from November with warm hearts and good memories, into a month of even more family and love.

The stockings have been hung,
the tree has been trimmed,
and our elf, William, has already started playing around our house.

Tonight we have our co-op veggie and fruit pick up and I am ever-anxious to see what goodies we get to stir up in the kitchen for the next couple of weeks! It is Christmas before Christmas at the Gray abode winter evening.

Photos snapped by my Mateo, my photographer.

DIY, Adoration.

2012-11-21T11:42:00.002-06:00

Per the English Language Dictionary:

a·dore

verb (used with object)

to regard with the utmost esteem, love, and respect; honor.

to pay divine honor to; worship: to adore God.

to like or admire very much: I simply adore the way your hair is done!

I adore the creativity of the "do it yourself" inspired crafts to follow. Enjoy! And happiest holidays to you.
DIY Mason Jar Snow Globes: A must do with Lucia for the holidays; perhaps we will give a few as gifts!

DIY Eye Makeup Remover: So much better than spending loot on gross store-bought chemicals.

DIY Wire Crown: How cute would this be for the holidays? Such a fun accessory. Shall Lucia and I both wear one?

DIY Pon Pom Garland: I am so crazy obsessed with garlands and instead of splurging on Etsy, I am resolving to make my own.

DIY Hand Painted Quilt Squares: I will be honest, this project will probably never happen because I just do not have the patience for it, but wow - it is adorable.

DIY Faux Fur + Flannel Blanket: Now, I could probably handle this: SO CUTE!

A word or two about teaching

2012-11-19T22:10:00.002-06:00

Most days I look out into a sea of faces and wonder what the hell I am doing. Beautiful little faces full of life and potential - full of interest in subjects and life and most things other than English. Good little people. People I end up hoping and dreaming for ... even if on some days they leave me questioning my place in this world.

What can a teacher do?

Try.

And Everyday I try.

I have the greatest profession - and the most cliche. The only other thing in this world - more than motherhood - that can make me believe in cliches, is teaching. Wholeheartedly.

Teaching is the everything I want everyday and everything I fight. Some days I am discouraged and despondent. Some days are a knock-down-drag-out-fight.

But most days I laugh. And get tons of hugs and high fives.

And I have stories. I know the stories of hearts that I would have never known. I have forged bonds that I may have never known and have a life that I could have never imagined.

Creativity - I have it. I know there are other things to do with my time, other professions in which I could seek, but I also know this is the very time I am supposed to endure, enjoy, engage.

I thrive in a world where there are things happening, where minds connect and find controversy. I am a promoter of hyperbole, a speaker of cliche. I find hope in despair and find joy in the tiniest of moments. I know - because of the job that I have - that there are no mistakes and that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. And I know that even in the darkest of places - the very darkest of moments, this world is a beautiful place.

In this world, we will all find our way.

Words to Live By

2012-11-16T12:21:00.002-06:00

One of my favorite Instagram feeds that I follow is Free People Greenwich because,not only do they post awesome office style, but they load my page chock-full of inspirational quotes. Below is one of my recent loves because it reminds me of myself: the adventure my wanderlusting soul seeks, the happiness in simplicity I strive to attain, the wish to do and be around only those that care for and celebrate me for me, the ability to say no and do just as I please. Most importantly, these are the things that I hope my daughter will also have in her life.

Happy Friday!!!

Lovely image by FreePeopleGreenwich/Free People.

Fancy a Stroll?

2012-11-06T05:41:00.001-06:00

It is already Tuesday morning as I finally sit down to jot some notes from the weekend. Fall has swooped in and set the world a spinning for us and we have enjoyed it so! From Trick-or-Treating with lovely friends and grubbing on big pots of chili to brunching on Sundays and exploring the Myriad Children's Park in OKC.

November will be bringing in even more cheer - a multitude of family from West Virginia will be sweeping through the plains, our favorite Houston friends will be joining us for a long weekend, and we will get to soak in lots of good family time at Thanksgiving. I adore this time of year.

Let us know if you fancy a downtown stroll in between our gatherings - we will surely join you.

This Morning

2012-10-27T09:08:00.001-05:00

I woke thinking of nothing else - only my Grandma Airy. My cousin Stacy and I joined my dad at her bedside a few weeks ago, when I was in West Virginia. I remember looking at her big brown eyes and thinking how I had never realized how confidingly brown and beautiful they were. Perfectly brown. Like marbles. I wondered why I had never noticed before. Was it that they were camouflaged by the rims of her glasses? Was it that her hair was always coiffed and pulling my eyes upward to her bright white curls? Or was it her voice, so intense that I never took a moment to recognize the sight of her mahogany eyes. always distracted by sound?

Slow down.

Slow down more.

In that hour we sat with her, her eyes starred at ours - like she was looking deep into our hearts. I wonder if she was saying goodbye to us in those moments. I wonder many things about that day. I wonder much about her death and if she new it was coming and if she knew my dad was at her bedside everyday.

Thinking of her eyes, I find comfort. She could not say much to us, but she did not have to because her eyes were speaking for her. I find comfort in her faith because I know she was going home. She is home now.

Everywhere my thoughts are this morning - the many places filled with memories - everywhere and nowhere at all, they are with her.

This photo is one I love because she looks so happy holding my nephew, Aven.
A playlist from this morning.

Seasons Change

2012-10-18T09:39:00.002-05:00

This fall day my thoughts continually linger to those that I love so much in the hills of West Virginia. The fall leaves have probably transformed even more from the time that Lucia and I departed last Sunday. I imagine they are brighter now with orange, darker with a rainbow of maroons. The leaves will soon fall and crunch under the feet of those who tread upon them.

The spirit of my Grandma Airy fluttered away from those mountain breezes - that changing season - not last night, but the night before. My dad called me the evening she passed and told me that he thought it might be the night of her last breath. His instincts were correct and when I saw his name appear on my screen the following morning, I already knew the news he was calling to convey.

I saw Grandma Airy last weekend when she was still alert enough to know my cousin, my dad and I were at her bedside. We talked to her about her love of cooking and told her our favorites from her kitchen. She finished my sentence when I professed my love for her chocolate pie.

Once she tried to teach me to make her chocolate pie. I was young, perhaps early teens and staying with her for a few weeks over the summer. We decided that since I liked it so much, I should know how to make it. I hardly lasted five minutes in the kitchen with her - stirring the chocolate over the hot stove was too much for my breath of attention. Really stand over the pot so long?

I think now I will learn to make her pie. I will make it and remember her hands that stirred, that loved to bake, loved to cook - loved to prepare for others and share in feast. I will think about her food more, share it with my husband and daughter, just as I will share childhood stories of winding country roads.

Airy loved to feed all of us at her table - she loved that we loved her food and that we all loved each other. I can hear her telling us all that it is time for super, in her raspy and sweetly bossy tone. I can see the food lined down the table and on the sidebar - not an inch of space waisted, one casserole tucked neatly beside the next, jello salad, baked beans for Stacy, green beans for me. Pie for everyone - more kinds that one might imagine.

We love you Grandma Airy.

The Wisdom of the Augusta Place Trees

2012-10-16T15:10:00.001-05:00

So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.” ― Hermann Hesse, Bäume. Betrachtungen und Gedichte

Autumn Trees, South Charleston, West Virginia

32nd Birthday Breakfast

2012-10-09T16:47:00.000-05:00

For Mateo's 32nd Birthday Breakfast, he chose a Waffle Champion feast of champions. We three bundled up tightly on the chilly-chilly morning, snagged some coffee for we thirty-folk, milk for our Chee, and ventured down to 23rd street and Walker to find the infamous waffle truck. Two delicious concoctions ordered right up - one sweet with lemon tart cream and blueberries, the other savory with turkey chili and avocado. We picnicked along the bustling street, busy with cars going to and fro their Sunday destinations. Three ducks in a row on a bruised picnic table in the cold, observing the vacant shops across the way - noting the emptiness that haunts the window fronts, craving life behind their doors. We eyed a kitty cat near by that Lucia longed to chase. And Matt and I relished in the idea of thirty-two ... what is to come and what has been. And glad to have our little family of three together.

Happy Thirty-Second to my husband.
And many more.

xoxo

Music & Baking

2012-09-27T10:27:00.001-05:00

Playing music and baking are Lucia's two most favorite things to do. Together she and I can make some rather delicious concoctions - brownies from scratch with honey and cocoa, banana bread with raisins and pecans - most perfect toasted and buttered for breakfast, and chocolate chip cookies.

She cracks the eggs,
I measure the ingredients,
she plops them in the bowl.
We stir and stir.
Quite the team.

Just like she and daddy are quite the duet with their guitars at their laps and the dog at their feet. Strumming along.

Lots of music in the house - walls echoing with laughter and song and the aroma of fresh baked goodies clouding the atmosphere.

Thank You + Nerdy School Photos

2012-09-22T11:30:00.000-05:00

Hello out there - I just wanted to take a few minutes to say thank you to everyone that reads my little blog and cheers me along. I have been taking it easy on posting lately, as we have had much happening. And, oh so kindly, I have received emails from many of you asking where I have been. I am here and all is well; I promise to be back soon with regular posting, but the new school year has eaten my lunch, ear infections have taken a toll on our little gal, and the internet world has simply been put on the back burner.

Thank you for your kind comments and for hanging in here with me. I appreciate each and everyone of my readers; it is so nice to have you all here.

I always find it funny to receive my school portraits in my mailbox. Thirty-one years old and the same gray background photo since first grade.

Sarah