A decade of William

William Sinclair Dunphey, my second beautiful boy, born mere hours after celebrating Ryan’s 36th birthday, turned ten this past weekend.

How we cherish him!

Sitting here and pondering who he is and all that there is to value in him, I’m struck by how intense and aggressive his love is. He is deeply invested in each member of his family, aware of us and who we all are, engaging with each of us each day in meaningful ways. He is also incredibly self-disciplined and already has a tough time when I direct the day in a way that disrupts his carefully laid out school and chore plan. He is learning already to take a deep breath and cheerfully serve, trusting that God knows the needs and desires of his little heart. He is black and white and likes rules to be observed, and here, too, he is already being shaped as he lives in a house full of renegades and wretches who are in the process of sanctification. Gentleness. Kindness. Understanding that life is not always lived through his perspective. These are lessons he struggles with and then latches on to with that intensity. He is deeply sincere and will occasionally weep over revelation of his sin and the brokenness it has wrought. He is sweet and funny and kind but he is not all softness. No, there is a rod of iron in there, a burning heart of integrity that makes me think of David who aggressively pursued the presence of God.

And now he is 10. Again, I wouldn’t trade this blossoming young man for the world! But oh — his sweet little dimpled face and games of dress up and crying for Mama at night… that all was too fleeting.

Happy birthday, dear sweet William. We treasure you.

autumn catch-up

Oh, another month of living, pressed down and running over — that’s the only way to measure these incredibly full days. Days full of beauty and adventure, or the refining rhythm of routine, read alouds we love and workbook pages that must be done, church things, work things, school things, family things… So much, and most of it with a baby in arms, which is why my thoughts tend to stay jumbled in my head instead of getting straightened out into neat and tidy sentences here.

Tonight, while I laid in bed with Enid next to me, amusing herself with the crinkly package of baby wipes, I looked through pictures and was a bit astounded to realize how long ago the end of September already feels. And so, a quick photo / memory dump:


Daily work with this eager kindergartener.


Thursday’s nature journaling, packed up and moved to the park.


A Sunday afternoon with the whole family, soaking in September sunshine.


Farewell to this old friend, and even more, to my favorite neighbors EVER.


Paint and journals abandoned and Mama left just sitting in silence. I may or may not have sat there for quite awhile.


Getting rounder, cuter, and more smiley all the time.


A crazy day that managed to get collected and calmed and tied up with the comforts of Autumn.


Another year of CFA begins!

We made it to John Brown’s House, near Lake Placid. We are history buffs and history buffs in the making and studying the Underground Railroad is all the more real with trips like this.

Our day doubled as an autumn holiday in the mountains.


Besides the stunning leaves, the array of mushrooms caught Beatrice’s eye.


Passing through and noticing three friends playing piano together in the evening, and realizing, somehow in a very profound way, that this moment is their real life.


And another moment that stopped me in my tracks: turning around to see my brand new baby playing on her tummy with toys. *sigh*

That’s all for now. A son is in need of tick removal. Life never stops, does it?

a favorite kitchen corner and my favorite granola recipe

I really do love this beautiful, quirky and customized, finally for real and not just on paper kitchen! I love how the room has opened up, how the cherry counters gleam and glow with just the right warmth, how the cupboards open and close without any loud magnets, and of course the beautiful craftsmanship of each detailed trim piece and mitered corner. As the days are beginning to cool, I’m eager to give this heart-of-the-home its first fall and winter experience: fill it with heavy pots of apple sauce and the scent of stews and floured counters and floors as we cut out cookies for the holidays… Food is an amazing thing, isn’t it? How physical and basic it is, but how deeply it nourishes souls and creates community and family identity? Amazing.

One of my favorite quirky-custom parts of the kitchen is this long, shallow drawer right next to the stove. I wanted a space for my spices, and I knew I didn’t want an open shelf because too much dusting, and I didn’t want them just in a cupboard because I was tired of digging and rearranging and knocking them over. And so I designated this space for them. I open the drawer, and ta-da! There they are. (I bought those jars on Amazon for my most-used spices.)

And below, my flours and oats and sugar have a pull-out drawer perfectly sized for the jars I keep them in. They used to sit on my counter top, and as much as I love the look of them, I just didn’t want to devote the space to them anymore. I also didn’t want my kids pulling huge jars out of cupboards, so this seemed like a good solution. So far, I love it.

Also, I love the hardware on this little corner of the kitchen! It matches the patina and style on the antique Swedish hutch across the room, and that little tie-in just makes me happy. It’s the little things, right?

And because I’m thinking about food and kitchens, a quick nod to summer eating:

Those tomatoes have seriously changed breakfast and spoiled me for all winter eating. I don’t know what I’m going to do when my CSA pick-up is devoid of them. Seriously: if you’re local, you need to try a Kent tomato. Their veg is simply some of the best I’ve had.

While William and Jameson have rather commandeered the kitchen as far as baking goes (cookies are their new passion!), I do manage to slip in every other week or so to make a big batch of granola. I have not delegated that task, as it’s primarily for me and I have particular ideas of how I like it. Probably you do, too, or maybe you’re still looking for the perfect granola recipe. I can’t promise you that your particular ideas will be satisfied by my particular recipe, but if you’d like to give it a whirl, here it is:

My Granola (at least, currently)

Mix in large bowl:
6 cups old fashioned oats
1/2 – 1 cup whole wheat flour (optional; helps bind)
1 – 2 cups unsweetened coconut
2 cups mixed chopped nuts (I do walnuts, almonds, pecans, cashews, and pepitas)
1/2 – 1 cup dried cherries
1/4 cup chopped candied ginger
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp ginger
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1/4 tsp cardamom
dash allspice
1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper

In small bowl, stir together:
1 cup melted coconut oil
1/2 cup maple syrup
1 T kosher salt
2 tsp vanilla

Add wet ing to dry ing and stir well. Spread in sheet pan. Bake at 300* for 90 minutes, stirring halfway through. (This makes a crunchy, fairly loose granola. Lower baking temp and shorten time for chewier results.)

twelve; seasons; pray for Jack

This past Saturday, that adorable little boy turned 12. Twelve! There’s such a strange tangle of emotions as he grows, because I could just weep buckets of tears with sadness of the precious days I’ll never have again with a sweet first baby and a sparkly-eyed toddler and a helpful 5yo and every other day of this always-by-my-side firstborn’s life. And I most certainly would weep those buckets if I wasn’t so busy being filled with delight over the young man he is today, and how much enjoyment there is as his life unfolds.

He spent the morning of his twelfth birthday completely engrossed in writing and presenting a play with his siblings. This isn’t an everyday occurrence; most of his ideas these days have less pretend and fewer sisters involved. To say, then, that the younger set was in heaven would be an understatement. He couldn’t have planned a more special morning for them if he’d tried. What a blessing of a big brother!

Then an afternoon of playing some video games with William and two friends (oh, the hard decision of two friends! Whose idea was it to limit the birthdays in such a way? Oh yes, mine…) Ryan brought them into town for a couple of hours, and then we girls joined, carrying bags of gifts and picnic baskets of food and dishes, and of course, a chocolate cake! We closed the coffee shop a bit early and took it over: “Closed for a Private Party” — yup, that was us! Bagels and soda for the kids, salad and water for the grown ups. Gifts — such kind and thoughtful gifts those two friends gave! Again, the joy of watching young boys grow into thoughtful young men! — and voiced appreciation. Cake and milk.

Twelve.

And while it’s still just a warm-up to those [regularly regarded as infamous but difficult doesn’t need to mean bad] teen years, in our church and social circles, twelve is a pretty big milestone. Two days later, he scrambled through his dinner clean up and put on clean clothes and got himself ready for a first in our family: youth group at church. Ryan and I were one big jumble of emotion — in disbelief that we’re already here and wanting to put him back in kindergarten just one more time, and full of so much expectation for how God will meet him in these coming days.

So he joined this tribe of young men and women, and launched into a new season of life.

And in so doing, launched me, too. Here I go. Laugh-crying all the way.

Appropriately, his first night at youth, many of them wore their “Jack’s Army” t-shirts, a visible representation of their spiritual support of my nephew, Jackson Paladin. This morning, as the sun rose, so did my prayers for the nephew I love so dearly. Today that port he had installed on Monday will carry the first doses of chemotherapy to his body. This is hard for me to think about. This whole procedure of a bone marrow transplant has made me feel as I do when I’m boarding an airplane and everything in me is screaming to turn around and run from that little tiny plane that will bring feelings of claustrophobia. But there is nothing for it but to press forward, buckle in, and know that the destination is worth the difficulty between. And so this morning dawns with that same sensation of me wanting to bundle us all up and just run the other way — but no. Forward, resolute, and knowing that God is in this place. He will deliver and is delivering, as He stands guard over Jackson’s body every moment and speaks His nearness to His heart with every breath.

Pray for Jack, if you will. There is a great destination of health and strength awaiting him on the other side of this journey.

first week of school!

A whole first week of school with my precious kiddos is already done. I meant to take a photo of them all on Monday, but you know. We got busy.

We had such a good week. Kids so excited and whole-hearted, diligent and focused, and eager to take on a new year of chores and routines and growth. Not every first week has been so free-from-drama, my own included, so I know to be thankful for this unique gift. Ha!

Day One: Ridiculously hot and humid. Our outside time was spent in the sprinkler. Another “unique” start to a North Country school year!

Multi-tasking: Jameson is so good with Enid, and I found them here. She’s getting a head start on Harriet Tubman’s life.

Mornings: Starting early outdoors, before temps reached into the 90s. And we even needed blankets! September is so strange.

Ordered chaos: What homeschooling looks like in real life. This is the silent version; now imagine a boy practicing piano in the other room, another boy listening to a math lecture, and all three of these little girls talking to me. I had to laugh.

Day Two: We brought our lunch to the park, did our history reading by the river, and spent our play hour on slides and swings. Enid and I opted for quiet shade and observation.

Breakfast Duty: Jameson has assumed full responsibility for the children’s breakfasts. He has a rotating menu he’s learned to bake or prepare, and by 8am he has it ready, table set, a classical musical selection playing, and is calling the family to the table. This is the routine I’ve been implementing for several years, but somehow putting him in charge means the kids suddenly LOVE the music. So besides the wonderful benefits of having him grow in this responsibility, I also have the makes-my-heart-sing benefit of hearing kids singing Beethoven piano sonata themes randomly throughout the day. And Fiona singing the theme from Rhapsody in Blue? MADE MY WEEK.

Circle Time: The boys take turns holding Enid during the first portion, so I can lead the family in some worship. She is well loved.

Change it up: Thursday we did a mid-morning grocery run, followed by lunch and history reading in another park. And I finally remembered to take a picture of the crew. Happy Fourth Day of School! (Is that a thing?)

Science meets Art: We’re trying to be diligent about nature journaling this semester. I’m feeling pretty good about a full week of staying on track, culminating in our Thursday afternoon painting session. Making Charlotte Mason proud.

Outdoors on Friday: Before our homeschool group begins their Friday group program in October, I like to spend that fifth day of the week exploring the outdoors. We live in such a beautiful area! Last week was spent near the St Lawrence River with friends; yesterday we followed a trail along the Raquette with one of my sisters. The temps broke and yesterday was a perfect low 70s. What a perfect day for a day of integrated learning: everything from trying to find “north” the way fugitive slaves did while in the woods and spotting the prettiest varieties of wild mushrooms to being patient with younger siblings and handling an auntie’s dog.

James and trials vs temptations

I’ve been getting a jump start on our fall study, slowly reading and re-reading chapter 1 of James on my own and with the kids.

It is reminding me of something I need a regular reminder of: trials and temptations are not one and the same.

That’s hard to feel when you’re in the middle of real life, though, because trials are rife with temptation. Whether it be a kid slogging through math and messing up your whole morning plan, or something far more serious, such as sickness and disease, trials bring with them a whole host of temptations that I am quick to fall headlong into.

I fall so quickly, in fact, that I end up confusing the issue at hand, and find myself saying, “The reason I’m exploding with anger every day is that my child is taking forever with their math work!” Or, “the reason I’m fearful and anxious is that this sickness is serious.”

Fortunately, those aren’t true statements. If they were, we wouldn’t be able to count trials as joy, would we? We’d be too busy losing our cool and cowering in fear to have anything like joy. No, the reason I am responding in a sinful way is that I’ve given into temptation. God wants to show me how to walk through the valleys of trials without tripping over every loose stone and falling into every chasm along the way. In the situation of slow math, He wants my sight clear enough that I can hear His wisdom for how to help and deal with my child in a constructive way. In the situation of sickness, He wants my heart free from suffocating fear and instead aware of His amazing power and the tender nearness of His presence.

The Holy Spirit wants to help sort out trial from temptation. We are not captive to our situation. When I say, “How can I have joy in this? I’m so afraid. I’m so angry. I’m so resentful. I’m so ____,” the Holy Spirit sheds light on my path and I discover that anger and fear and bitterness and whatever else were temptations I caved to — that I can also repent of, get free from, and then find my feet firmly on the path of righteousness once again.

This post, read a few years ago, articulated so well the things God had been showing me. Maybe you’ll enjoy it, too.

And totally unrelated: I love these people and am so thankful for spontaneous evenings out, enjoying sunsets.