Tuesday Grace Notes – the Delicate Scent of Clean

I remember the first whiff. The inhale that felt like the cleanest breath I’d take in ages. It fit the shop of course; all delicately decked out like an English garden. All soft lighting and pale wood. An abundance of white. Beautiful, painted graphics like something from a John Constable landscape.

The Crabtree & Evelyn store I walked into blended florals, woods, and delicate spices into an attractive, inviting welcome into another world. That world originated in the early 70s as a small family business focused one man’s passion for travel and well-turned products into one of the world’s most respected luxury brands.  Long before health and wellness became buzzwords, Crabtree & Evelyn blended botanicals with rich, natural products to create beautiful soaps, lotions, and even edibles.

Of all the products Crabtree & Evelyn have produced, my all-time favourite will always be their triple-milled Goat Milk Soap. Originally packed in white, then upgraded to a classic blue, this soap was a luxury indeed at about $25 for a box of three. But it was very much worth it.

Milk proteins blend with just a hint of alpine lavender for one of the cleanest, sweetest smelling soaps you could ever hope to use. I can’t remember who discovered it first, my mother or I, but we have both been head over heels for this soap for decades. In fact, after learning that she had nowhere to buy this soap locally, I bought out the stock at a downtown store in my neighborhood for her Christmas gift last year.

This is one of those items I save for special occasions – I know my mother does too. This is the kind of soap you want to put in a special dish to make it last as long as possible.

And now we have even more reason to hang out to our stash. In one of our conversations last week, my mother broke the bad news. Crabtree & Evelyn are no longer carrying this product line. I have to admit, I was more broken up about this than I should be over mere soap.

Now, I am grateful for my tendency to hang on to things – I still have a few bars tucked away. And they still smell amazing. I’m astonished at the asking price for these little blue boxes on eBay and Etsy, but know that for some buyers out there, it will be worth every penny.

Tuesday Grace Notes are an opportunity for me to share a small bit of harmony amidst the other things I write about. Truly, they are meant to be shorter than my usual pieces (laugh with me here), and just a little something to add a touch of beauty to my life and yours. One week it might be a
wonderful book I’ve read and can’t put down. Maybe it will be one of the movies I love (or its soundtrack). You might find a favourite recipe here. Or the new soap I’ve just discovered. You’ll find that many of them are inspired by my mother and the things she taught me about living a gentle, elegant life. I hope you’ll join me as more things are shared.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

My Own First Corinthians Thirteen

Even if you’re not overly familiar with your Bible, I’m sure you’ve heard of, or even seen part of the book of First Corinthians they call the Love Chapter. It’s a beautiful exploration of true love – what it is, and what it’s not.

My mind wandered there over the weekend – just reflecting on where I am at this point in my life; considering things that are happening around me; and being incredibly grateful for the relationship I have with my husband. It’s not perfect by a long shot, but it’s good. We continue to work on the relationship and invest in each other, and are in all the best ways, the perfect balance for each other.

Because this is a blessing and a gift I don’t ever want to take for granted, I decided to write my own paraphrase of I Corinthians 13. My own love chapter, dedicated to my best friend and love of my life.

He is the most patient man I have even known – standing firm in the face of some of life’s hardest challenges; the kind of things that would have broken a lesser man, or chased a less persistent man away.

He is always proud of my accomplishments; being my loudest cheerleader and biggest source of encouragement.

He knows that we are not the same, and never feels diminished by my success. In fact, he relishes it.

He does not suffer from an overblown ego, but remains confident in his abilities and strengths. Very often, he graciously acquiesces to my teasing and cajoling – and frankly – we have enough in common that we have so many things we can enjoy doing together. But we’re also very different and can enjoy our space apart. Sometimes, we just enjoy being quiet together. And that is a gift.

He has a strong sense of justice and celebrates when right prevails. He has stood with me through financial struggles, the upending and startling painfulness of family ups and downs, health issues – the ones that have almost ended me, and the ones that continue to hang on in debilitating, chronic ways. Oh, the health issues. He has hope that I will get better, but until then, often operates as my hands and feet; as my driver; as my comforter; as my guide; as my rock when I have low moments and feel as if I can’t go on.

He is the only person I am completely comfortable with – and by that I mean he sees the good, the bad, and the awful. He sees the giddy and the goofy. He sees the serious and the struggle. He sees the committed and the determined. He sees the whole of me.

No one makes me laugh like this man – in some ways; he reminds me what it’s like to be a child again.

He believes in me. He has hope for our future. But most of all, he loves me.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

Tuesday Grace Notes – a Discovery of Art

For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to be an artist. Some things I love and have wanted seemed to come as easily and naturally as breathing. For instance writing. I cannot remember a time when words were not my friends; when language and syntax did not pulse and leap for me like throb of the blood in my veins. It has never been a problem for me to say, “I am a writer.” I also love to cook, and find relaxation and joy in the kitchen. I love music too, and at least at one point in my life new how to bring a keyboard and a cello to life.

But art.

The second feather - I'm putting this one on note cards

It has taken me a long time to even tentatively utter the words, “I am an artist.” Inside my head, I can still see my hyper-critical shadow self shaking her head sarcastically; rolling her eyes; saying, “whatever.” I adore color. I have an immense collection of pens, pencils, stickers, paint, paper, and other art supplies. I have delved into art journaling and fallen in love. I create images I’m proud of in Photoshop – moving light and shadow and font to make statements and tell a story. I consider my writing an art – same for my cooking.

But I still have trouble saying, “I am an artist.”

I think what I mean is, "I can’t paint anything that looks like it exists in this universe."

Because somehow in my mind – for me – art equals painting.

The first feather, a work in progress, and new art supplies

Which makes no sense at all, because art is so much more than that. I even led a small group earlier this Spring where one of the goals of my heart (along with my two fearless leader friends), was to teach other women that you didn’t have to be Michelangelo to be an artist.

So imagine my surprise over the last twenty-four hours, when I’ve discovered something I can paint. And draw. And not too badly.

An online friend had been sharing images of her feathers. Beautiful, colorful creations. They are amazing. I was so tempted. I wrote her on Facebook and asked about the hows and whys, and she encouraged me so kindly. So I tried.

Toucan feathers - at a friend's suggestion

Focusing on not focusing (and thus over thinking – which I do so very well), I tumbled my oversize art journal down from the top shelf and grabbed a pencil. And drew a feather. I thought it wasn’t half bad and showed it to my family who gave me huge kudos (because they’re amazing) and cheered me on. I started surfing on Pinterest – looking for other feather ideas and found another to try. I did. And it actually looked like a feather. The next morning, I took on another challenge and tried my hand at a fish – albeit a feathery looking fish, but a fish nonetheless. And it looked like a fish.

My feathery fish - still a work in progress - but it looks like a fish!

I’m so excited.

This newfound art is a grace note for me because it is a dream fulfilled and an experiment in wonder altogether. It is an adventure in giving grace, of sorts, because despite the cheers and encouragement from my friends and family, there’s part of me – that cranky shadow self – that still sees nothing but flaws and errors in the art.

But I’m choosing to ignore her completely for now, and simply revel in the beauty and imagination that flows out from my brush, and give thanks that I have a small bit of the Creator’s gift at my fingertips. I want to honor that gift.


Tuesday Grace Notes are an opportunity for me to share a small bit of harmony amidst the other things I write about. Truly, they are meant to be shorter than my usual pieces (laugh with me here), and just a little something to add a touch of beauty to my life and yours. One week it might be a
wonderful book I’ve read and can’t put down. Maybe it will be one of the movies I love (or its soundtrack). You might find a favourite recipe here. Or the new soap I’ve just discovered. You’ll find that many of them are inspired by my mother and the things she taught me about living a gentle, elegant life. I hope you’ll join me as more things are shared.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

Where I'm From

My daughter brought home her first writing assignment from school today - building a poem from prompts built on a poem by George Ella Lyon called, Where I'm From. It draws on childhood experience, favourite foods, things your family said all the time, common things around your home, plants, pets, and more. It's memory and identity. Because it's writing, I couldn't resist. I had to try my hand at the exercise. It's poetry, but not my usual style.

And yet, it speaks so much of where I'm from:

I am from piles of books –
stacked from floor to hip to ceiling, spilling off shelves;
creating literary architecture of their own.
From a rainbow swirl of pen and ink,
and the quilt patterned patches of notebooks –
blank, lines, and quad-squared pages.

I am from crumbling driveways,
walls that pulse and dance with color
(a different one in every room)
and echoes of jazz and quiet cellos in intimate corners.
I am from soft cats warming themselves in the sun;
a stunted dogwood of southern memory;
and a lilac bush with competitive growth spurts.

I am from quiet times in sacred spaces,
tea poured hot, and an endless pattern of  blue and white.
From gentle elegance and fierce determination,
patience anchored in rock firm safety,
and joy bursting with imagination and wildness.

I’m from tooth-grinding stubbornness,
undaunted loyalty,
and a rich vein of creativity shot through with iron and gold.

I’m from trust in the Lord with all your heart,
Do your very best, and
noblesse oblige.

I’m from ham for Christmas and lamb at Easter.
I’m from the Gathering Place in the islands,
fields of rice paddies,
and hills sheltering castles at Cardiff.

I’m from baked chow mein and stir fry,
from journey across oceans,
and the soft palm of a hand.
From teacups and journals,
old woks and more books,
walls covered over and again in memory,
painted art from hands I know,
and more books.
Because books are at the heart of all we love.

I am sifted like sand and flour,
elementally twined, rooted, blossomed, and risen
from earth, and bread, and binding
of the ones I love.



I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

I'm joining Simply Beth for her Three Word Wednesday link up. For this link up, choose three words; share a post, photo, or scripture that highlights those three words; link up here; and share some encouragement and blog love with other writers.

Tuesday Grace Notes - Space to Breathe

As I move into an incredibly busy season of the year – back to school for my daughter; peak times on my job supporting the technological needs of the back to school crowds; husband working full time; little time at home for anything outside the schedule; swim team starting up again … I am so thankful for the gift of time and space we had just a couple of weeks ago.

My husband’s parents gave us the gift of a timeshare; far up on the coast of the Pacific Northwest. It was only a couple of hours away from home, but it might as well as been four time zones.

With limited technology and only a television to contend with – we haven’t had access in years, so it’s fairly easy to pretend it wasn’t there – there was time for seaside exploring; hours of book reading; extended time to journal; and just time to be still.

I continue to be sometimes surprised at my own evolution as a person. The girl who once lived for the hum of city life; who couldn’t let a week go by without stopping by Nordstrom, Gene Juarez, or any other number of overpriced shopping haunts; who didn’t want to wander too far away from the latest happenings – she’s given way. Now, I’m the woman who stays away from the mall and shopping and crowds as much as possible, who shops online – and then mostly for books; who yearns for long, wild grass and grey oceans with pale skies above.

Sometimes grace notes are things – I still love my pretty things around me. But sometimes grace notes are the quiet times; the still times; the sacred moments of space that buffer us from the crowding, demanding necessities of the everyday.

Sometimes grace notes are just the space to breathe.
Deeply.
Fully.
Until you are so satisfied with just the sound of your breath,
that nothing else matters.


Tuesday Grace Notes are an opportunity for me to share a small bit of harmony amidst the other things I write about. Truly, they are meant to be shorter than my usual pieces (laugh with me here), and just a little something to add a touch of beauty to my life and yours. One week it might be a wonderful book I’ve read and can’t put down. Maybe it will be one of the movies I love (or its soundtrack). You might find a favourite recipe here. Or the new soap I’ve just discovered. You’ll find that many of them are inspired by my mother and the things she taught me about living a gentle, elegant life. I hope you’ll join me as more things are shared.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

Five Minute Friday - Whisper

On Fridays a bunch of brave writers gather here to all spend five collective minutes writing on a single prompt. It’s a great way to catch your breath at the end of a long week. This blessed, beautiful place where we open our hearts and let words and tears and the inner workings of our lives bleed and flow and dance across the virtual pages. Yes, this community opens wide and invites you in to share. Come and visit and read. You will be blessed.

This week: Whisper 

Go 

It’s been pressing at me. The faintest pulse. An urge. A sweet, gentle proposition curling like pipe smoke around me – as if I were the image of an old man, rocking gently on a well-worn porch.

I hear it like an echo in the books that I’m reading – and even the ones I’m not. The titles thrusting themselves with modest insistence as I pass the stacks piled up throughout my home. I hear it in the melodies of the songs on my iPod and on the radio. Even when the tune stands alone and there are no words. The message remains. I am gathered and surrounded by it in the scriptures I've been meditating on and soaking in.

It is more than a question, but less than a statement. It is an invitation to a life well lived. A life of spirit-filled joy and contentment found in stillness and in service.

Layers upon layers are building. Structure forming. Images and intention coalescing into something yet to be revealed. I know the direction. I am watching the story arc unfold. I have a glimmer of an idea of the ending. But I will not know all of it. Not in this lifetime.

But the offer remains. On the breath of the dawn and in the sigh of twilight, He speaks and asks, “Follow me.” So simple. It could not be more simple. My Lord and my God calls me in a whisper: love me with all your heart; love those with you as you love yourself; do justice; love mercy; walk humbly. Follow me.

I want to take brave, small steps and follow after this invitation. Brave, in spite of my fearfulness of the cost unknown. Brave, even in the face of the unexpected – sheer terror for an organized planner with control issues. Brave, because the strength is not mine alone.

A step into surrender.
A step into sacrifice.
A step into a holy calling of dying to self.
This is where I’m going.

I pray that He doesn’t mind that I whisper my yes inside my heart.
I pray my whisper echoes into eternity.
Come with me?

Stop



How to Join
Want to know about how Five Minute Friday got started, and how to participate? All the details are here. No editing or second guessing. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!