July has been warm and beautiful and busy. One of the articles I wrote in June was published: you can read about it in HerLife Magazine Central Valley’s July issue. I have a few more upcoming that I’ll be sure to link and share for anyone interested.

Jake has had a few interviews and currently some hopeful leads, but nothing definitive as of yet. We appreciate your continuing prayers as we keep moving forward in faith.

We had a quiet but fun 4th of July. Our local fireworks were cancelled due to the tragic warehouse explosion in NorCal that occurred a few days prior, but we enjoyed BBQ, sparklers, ice cream, and confetti with family and friends.

Jake and I celebrated our 6th anniversary on July 6th. It was a simple celebration: we went out to dinner at our favorite local restaurant. But even the simplest things feel special when I get to do them with him. He makes me a better person, he’s the best husband and father I could’ve ever asked for, and he continues to be the greatest blessing I’ve ever received.

Goodness, I love him so.

We had an impromptu trip to SoCal to see Jake’s oldest niece and nephew, who were in the state visiting (Sorry to all my beloved SoCal friends who I didn’t tell/didn’t get to visit — next time, I promise!). It was a very, very quick turnaround, but we were so happy to spend whatever precious time we could with family that we rarely get to see.

The kids had a lot of fun with their cousins and celebrating the 4th, and now we’re settling into our daily routine again. Jake takes the kids in the early morning so I can sleep in a little (Beatrice is still awake at least three times a night, and we’re still slowly, slowly working on weaning). I take them for the mid-morning and afternoon while he works in his office, then I have an hour or two to write at my desk before we all have dinner together and begin the bedtime routine.

Screen time has increased a little but so has outdoor time and independent play, so I consider it an okay trade for now. They’re actually starting to learn how to play together instead of each taking turns infuriating the other. I’m hopeful that soon we’ll be spending less time separating them and have a moment’s peace during the day.

Despite toddler sibling squabbles, they’re the most wonderful kids. Michael has found a new fascination with trains — specifically Thomas the Tank Engine — and my mom has been enabling him by sporadically ordering him more engines to play with whenever they pop up at a reasonable price. He loves going to the thrift store with me to find “treasures” like a jumbo checker board or books. He loves singing, often at the top of his lungs. If he could ride his bike or swim all day, he would: they’re his two favorite activities.

Beatrice continues to grow quickly: she loves pointing out body parts, dancing to music, wearing any shoes she stumbles across, and drinking from any cup except her own. She has FOMO (fear of missing out) just like her brother, and wants to go everywhere and do everything he does. She also loves swimming and playing in the water. Sleep interferes with her grand plans to take over the world and is the enemy, and she treats it as such.

I’m grateful for our garden and its bounties in this season: drip irrigation has been a game changer. Our veggies are growing happily, and I’m swimming in a sea of tomatoes. I’m still not a dutiful enough gardener: all of my herbs have bolted and gone to seed in the summer sun, but at least they’re beautiful and drawing pollinators to my vegetables. The weeds are also atrocious — I will be fighting crab grass both awake and in my dreams til I die.

My making continues to take a back seat to life’s current demands. However, I knit a small, light head/neck scarf on the drive down to SoCal from leftover handspun. I made some progress on a pair of socks I’ve been knitting for an embarrassing amount of time. I’m also making another bonnet for a sweet baby at our church.

When my brain is absolutely dead in the evenings I’ve been slowly working on the same counted cross stitch embroidery piece while Jake and I watch our podcasts/shows together. And I have hopes of catching up on my Goodreads reading goal for 2025: 55 books, even though I’m currently 6 books behind.

I finished The Listeners by Maggie Stiefvater (beautifully atmospheric and intriguing) and On Tyranny by Timothy Snyder (powerful and convicting). I’m working through Lois McMaster Bujold’s Sharing Knife series (I love her way with words, especially dialogue) and chipping away at a collection of Simone Weil’s essays and letters.

I’ve found that I’ve had to prioritize reading if I want my writing process to go more smoothly. It makes sense if you think about it: words in, words out. Being surrounded by words and intentionally taking time to absorb them in multiple forms. Letting thoughts and phrases and adverbs and punctuation flow through you — then finally from you and your pen, changed and uniquely your own. For a writer, it’s as important as stretching and conditioning for an athlete.

For that reason, I cherish both my reading and my writing time. It’s been good to build the habits back up. It’s nice to have a small side income through my articles in this season of our lives, but I’m also slowly drafting short stories and longer form fiction in the few precious hours I have.

I’ve been struggling with feeling like I can’t do anything in the face of all that’s wrong with the world right now. I can’t magically get Jake a new job, I can’t fix the anger and pain and injustice ravaging our nation; I can’t stop wars.

But I can write.

It may not be much. It might never be published or seen by another person. But the act of writing changes me, and that’s where it begins. Each word is work I put towards a better tomorrow, and a better me.

The world feels heavy lately. We have our personal stress and work: Jake continues on the job search in a difficult market, I continue to write for local magazines and online markets, and we both continue to maintain the homestead as best we can. But we’re very well taken care of by our community and we’re doing quite well all things considered. The heaviness comes from outside. I’ve caught myself doomscrolling more often than I’d like, drawn in by the tragedies and chaos that’s happening all over the world. Angered and grieved by the injustices; frightened by the “what ifs”. And there’s so many of both.

There are very real evils happening all around us. When we see them, we must call them by their name. But I’ve also been feeling convicted: it’s not my job to solve all the world’s problems. I can’t fight every wrong and address every injury. Our internet-connected world sometimes makes it feel like we must attend to it all, but obviously that gets overwhelming and can lead to despair.

So what is my job? What is my duty?

To serve God, love my family, and mend whatever lies within my ability to mend.

And that’s what I will be focusing on, primarily. I’m dragging my attention back to my own little Shire and the souls that live within it, and protecting it with all my heart.

So here’s what’s been happening in our little Shire.

Our sweet Bea had her name’s day for St Margaret of Scotland on June 10th. We celebrated it simply, enjoying some strawberry cake and singing to her. I felt a bit guilty it was so simple, but I’m trying to be gentle with myself and accept that I have less bandwidth in this season of life.

Partially, I have less bandwidth because Beatrice is going through some sort of sleep regression. She’s started fighting all naps and bedtime with a vengeance (sometimes for 90 minutes or more) and waking several times at night. We’re also trying to wean, which doesn’t help matters. I am surviving purely off of coffee, matcha, and naps courtesy of my amazing husband and family.

In the mornings, I’ve been prioritizing quiet, screen-free time while we listen to a Spotify playlist I made of kids’ folk songs or CDs of classical music. Here’s my playlist for anyone interested. CD wise, we’ve been listening to Mozart, Tchaikovsky, and various “classics for kids”. 

I spent a few days reorganizing, cleaning, and rearranging all the toys in the kids’ room and living room, and now they’re spending a lot more time playing. I can’t recommend toy rotations enough: suddenly everything becomes new and exciting again.

We’ve been spending less time in front of screens all in all, and I’ve noticed much nicer play between the kids. It’s still difficult, given their age gap and current development stages, but I’ve still noticed a difference. I’ve found setting up simple activities — trains or magnatiles for Michael, wooden stackers or animals for Bea — can give me a solid few minutes of independent play and peace so I can finish my coffee.

During Beatrice’s naptime, Michael and I have been doing more crafts and reading books together. We read a lot of smaller books, and try to do a chapter of Charlotte’s Web at least once a week. He really enjoys tracing letters with his dot paint pens and following pattern cards with the wooden blocks and dowels. We’re slowly working on recognizing letters and numbers, too.

Michael got a haircut that really transformed him from toddler to little boy. It’s made his adorable and insane cowlicks much more manageable — but also, my heart still aches a little as I see him looking so grown up.

Speaking of being so grown up, Michael learned to ride a bike this past week. He’s been excelling on his balance bike for quite a while, and my parents bought him a “real bike with pedals”. It only took him an hour of practice, and he was riding up and down the street with Jake jogging alongside. Now they go on daily bike rides together up and down our street or around the block.

We did the calculations: since he learned how to ride his new bike he’s already ridden almost 20 miles. He’s unstoppable.

I’ve had less time and energy for my crafting lately — I’ve been doing more writing, which is good and wonderful work, but time consuming. However, during the evenings when I’m not writing, I’ve continued working on a cross stitch embroidery piece and finished spinning up a skein of vibrant hand-spun yarn.

Michael helped me wind it from the bobbins to my swift, and then wanted to take a picture with it. I couldn’t say no to those eyes.

I’m also finishing knitting a pair of socks for Jake (his belated Father’s Day gift) and knitting a light summer scarf out of leftover handspun.

Even though the world outside our garden gate is dark and full of the unknown, I’ve been working hard to cultivate peace within these walls. I’ve had two different quotes bouncing around in my head lately as I navigate parenting currently. First is the one this post is named after:

I do not believe this darkness will endure.

J.R.R. Tolkien

I think that one might be self-explanatory, but in case not: I’m holding onto the fact that “in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach”. No matter the difficulties of this season, in our personal lives and world-wide, this darkness won’t endure. It never does.

And the other quote is this one:

The world is rated R, and no one is checking IDs. Do not try to make it G by imagining the shadows away. Do not try to hide your children from the world forever, but do not try to pretend there is no danger. Train them. Give them sharp eyes and bellies full of laughter. Make them dangerous. Make them yeast, and when they’ve grown, they will pollute the shadows.

N.D. Wilson

This quote reminds me to persevere in making our home a greenhouse of light and laughter; of love and warmth. I am beyond privileged to shape the childhood of my two babies — and as they grow, may they carry that light and laughter and love and warmth out into the world with them.

Thanks for staying with me through this slightly disjointed, tired post. I hope a bit of the light I try to preserve in our home makes its way to you, too, through my words.

It’s been a busy few weeks for us between job searching for Jake and writing research/work for me. I’m writing some articles for local magazines and have a few short stories being prepped for submission, and Jake has done almost 40 job applications.

Keeping so busy has helped us maintain a relatively normal routine, but for Memorial Day we escaped the routine and drove up north to the coast with some dear friends of ours.

Having two nature-focused vacations in May was a great blessing. The sea air was a balm to our souls, the company bolstered our spirits, and there’s not many things cuter than watching kids run and play so hard they collapse every night.

It was a quiet vacation. We went for delightful walks to the beach, watched the sunset on the ocean, explored the town, visited thrift stores, read books, and did numerous puzzles. Both my mom and I got very excited over thrift store book hauls, and I got to visit a local yarn store (which is always a highlight for me). I got a sock yarn to commemorate this vacation — my favorite type of souvenir.

I cast on a hat for Bea with a skein of my handspun on the drive up, and I finished it over the weekend. It’s the Traveler Hat by Andrea Mowry, and I really enjoyed knitting it. Michael even helped me do a few stitches! Every time Bea wears it, I’ll remember this lovely vacation.

We also got to visit Glass Beach, which was a bucket list item for my mom. The main beach was quite disappointing: so many people were (illegally) gathering glass from the sand, and it was so combed over it looked like a regular beach. We found a side beach nearby that had been treated more respectfully, and it was beautiful. The sound of the waves crashing over the glass pebbles was like music — a rushing swell, crescendoing and fading.

Watching Michael run and play with the other kids on the trip really opened my eyes to how much he’s grown and matured this year. He’s so big, and so inquisitive, and so kind hearted. Yes, he’s also impulsive and active and three years old — but when we’re cuddling or talking together, sometimes I catch glimpses of him as a teenager or an adult, and I realize how quickly this sweet time is going by.

Beatrice has also had a growth spurt: she’s started to run whenever she can, despite not being fully steady on her feet. She delights in wearing shoes (especially her sparkly Crocs) and tries on anyone’s shoes that are left unattended. She loves singing, playing with water, and stealing her brother’s snacks and toys at any given opportunity.

The Northern California coast is one of my favorite places in the whole world. It’s where Jake and I spent both our honeymoon and several vacations pre-kids, and it was so sweet to bring them to the rocky beaches and foggy forests we love.

And now we’re back home, continuing on with the day-to-day. We’re weathering a heatwave of 100+ degree temperatures this weekend, but the rest of June is looking less oppressive. All around us the cherry orchards are ripening, and due to the kindness of our neighbors we’ve been able to glean from some of the trees. My children have turned into little cherry fairies, fingers and mouths constantly stained, spitting pits joyfully into the bushes.

We’ve been playing outdoors in the mornings, sitting in the shade and coloring together with crayons on the large drawing pad. The garden is flourishing, and I’ve already harvested three zucchini from my one plant. My tomatoes, yellow squash, and peppers seem to be thriving as well.

As I’ve said before, making is one of the ways I deal with stress…so my hands have been quite busy lately. I finished a row of my quilt top (sewn together while Jake did bathtimes), added some inches to my Ranunculus sweater and finished a few baby bonnets (knitted during Bea’s naps/quiet times), and began plying a vibrant worsted weight handspun (spun in the evenings after bedtime).

We continue to ask for your prayers as we navigate the unknown and the job search in a pretty crazy market. I’ve been learning the lesson that asking for help isn’t a weakness: it’s a strength. We’ve been leaning on our family and church community. I’ve had phone calls and dinners with friends where they generously listen to me vent my anxieties. I’ve increased my medication dosage to help me better cope with some of the stresses. And I’ve had to learn none of that is a sign of weakness. I think it will be a constant lesson I will revisit throughout my life.

The last few weeks haven’t been easy, but they’ve still been full of little glimmers of joy. And I’m so grateful for the support and help we’ve received which makes those glimmers easier to see.

May has been an eventful month for our family. The first week of May, PwC laid off 1500 of its US employees, citing “market alignment” as the reason. Unfortunately, Jake was one of them. His team was one of the hardest hit, and so his 8 years of loyal employment came to a very unexpected and unceremonious end.

It unsettled us more than we would’ve expected, mostly because of how out of the blue and unjust it felt. As a dear friend of mine said, “The ugliness of the machine world embedded in the hearts of men came right up to your door”. We spent the week processing, grieving, venting, and planning next steps. We appreciate your prayers as we continue discerning what’s next for our little family.

But there is only so much one can do directly after something like this, and our planned camping trip over Mother’s Day weekend ended up being very providential: an escape from cell service and our uprooted routines, and a retreat to the beauty of God’s creation and a reminder of His promises.

Our trip started with a bang: the trailer tire exploding on the freeway. Between changing tires and replacing spares through two different tire shops, it added an extra three hours to the trip — but we made it to the mountains before sunset. We even got our preferred campsite despite the delay.

And it was so good. If you’ve never visited Sequoia/Kings Canyon National Forest/Park, all I can say is: please visit at least once. It’s breathtaking. The National Parks truly are one of the best things about the United States.

Camping for us isn’t as much about “doing things” as getting away from the demands of technology and civilization. We still took walks and visited landmarks, but our main goal was just simply existing in the beauty and letting it soak into us and heal us.

Jake and the kids walked uncounted miles around the small campground loop, Bea in the stroller and Michael on his balance bike. He got incredibly good at it and is excited to soon upgrade to a pedal bike.

We spent an afternoon lakeside, reading, skipping stones, tossing sticks and rocks, and building sandcastles. Michael got to see fish and water snakes and explore further upriver with me and grandpa.

In the evenings, when the kids slept, we played Euchre and Spit with decks of cards, keeping the curious moths away from our beers. Jake and I also played several games of Othello, one of our nightly favorites.

Beatrice’s language skills exploded over the few days we were gone: she now says “cheese!” whenever you take her photo, and points and says “please” when she wants something. She also gives kisses with a big “mwah!” and when you say “Ready, Set…” she finishes with an enthusiastic “GO!”.

While Bea, Jake, and I napped and stayed with the dogs (yes, we brought all three of the dogs with us), my parents took Michael to see the largest living tree in the world. They took some beautiful pictures to share the experience with us. I can’t believe how old Michael looks — it seems like only yesterday he was a tiny baby.

There is something so healing about the sound of wind through the pine trees and eagles calling in the distance. Watching our children play in frigid lake water and run barefoot through the forest, eating meals cooked outdoors together, examining bugs and pinecones under magnifying glasses, seeing the stars unpolluted by fluorescent light, and playing cards by lantern’s glow — all these things brought us back to what’s truly important.

And now, rejuvenated by our mountain retreat, we are home and maintaining the homestead routine as we move forward with the job search. Despite picking up on our anxiety at the unknown, the kids are doing well, full of life and laughter. We have a fantastic community surrounding and rallying around us. Our church, our friends, our family — despite the difficult circumstances, we’ve never felt less alone.

The words of Dame Julian of Norwich keep coming to me, as fresh as the mountain breeze, countering my desire for control and certainty and the anxiety that whirls around both:

All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.

Spring has fully arrived and Beatrice has put it in her step: she has finally decided that walking suits her. She toddles everywhere very excitedly, though she often sits down whenever Michael comes near — preemptively making sure she doesn’t get bowled over by his exuberance. It’s been so sweet watching her grow. She is such a joy.

Michael, too, seems to have gone through a spring growth spurt. He’s grown more inquisitive and articulate, constantly wanting to know how things work and why things are the way they are. He’s currently trying to figure out knock-knock jokes, but he doesn’t quite have the hang of it. Right now, they go like this:

Michael: Knock knock!

Me: Who’s there?

Michael: Orange!

Me: Orange who?

Michael: OWL!! *laughing uproariously*

It’s a joke half inspired by an episode of Little Bear and half inspired by his own goofy sense of humor.

We’ve had some other cute toddlerisms recently:

Michael calls above the torso “upper body” and below the torso “downer body”

Michael: I love you!

Jake: I love you more!

Michael: I love you SIX!

Michael: I love making friends! I’m good at making friends! Mama, I can teach YOU how!

My brother was unexpectedly in town last week for twenty-four hours after touring grad schools in our state, and the kids were so delighted to see him.

Michael especially loved playing on the trampoline with his uncle/godfather. We had a great weekend of quality family time.

In household news, I successfully made (and have kept alive!) a sourdough starter. In the past when I’d tried to make a starter or been given one, I promptly killed it. But it’s been a month of success with this one! I must admit, I’m a little too absent-minded to be any good at bread-making. This might make sourdough enthusiasts cringe, but I don’t measure when I feed my starter: I just add flour and water until it looks like thick pancake batter. I’ve only made one loaf of bread so far, and it was adequate enough, but I have used lots of the discard to make crackers. The kids love them, they’re super easy to make, and they’re absolutely delicious topped with Trader Joe’s Green Goddess seasoning and eaten with hummus.

I’ve been on a sewing spree after months of not touching my machine. Again, I blame spring: I usually get bitten by the sewing bug around April. I made my dress for Pascha: I have no pictures of me wearing it yet, as I want to take some nice ones on Pascha. But I’m very proud of it and can’t wait to show it off.

One of my favorite pattern designers released a free laptop sleeve. I’ve needed one for ages, and had almost everything I needed to make one in my stash.

I hand-quilted the front and back and sewed it together in an afternoon during Bea’s nap. It was such a delight to make, even though it was my first time ever sewing with zippers. It’s a little wonky, but that’s the joy of handmade things, isn’t it?

Now that we’re not sick and we’ve taken intentional steps to reduce stress in our family life, we’ve been spending a lot more time outdoors. It’s been so good for our collective health (mental and physical). Like we used to do when Michael was a baby, I spread a blanket out in the shade of the orange tree in the mid afternoon. I bring snacks and books, and we play. Michael rides his balance bike, Bea climbs around and chases the dogs, and I read or knit or kick the soccer ball with Michael.

I’ve been thinking lately on the importance of playtime.

As a culture, we’ve lost the concept of play and good leisure time: everything must be productive or lucrative in some material sense. Hobbies become side-hustles. Having a healthy work-life balance negatively impacts utilization metrics at work. Sleeplessness and exhaustion are badges of merit. And don’t get me started on the loss of play and leisure time in the average child’s school life.

I’m the first to admit I care much too much about productivity. But both becoming a parent and reading about childhood development have convicted me about this. Play is crucial for children: there’s so much research that supports this. We need to play. It’s good for us — and not just for kids, but for adults too.

I know my kids watch everything I do (Lord have mercy). They look to me and to Jake for how to live their lives. So I really want them to see US play too. So we’ve been trying, very imperfectly, to play more. To open more space in our days for doing “nothing”, and letting the kids have those moments of boredom that lead to some of the most golden playtimes.

And of course, it’s led to me renewing my age-old struggle against screen time, finding that balance between ideals and reality. I’m sure I’ll be doing it all my life. If I had more brainpower I’d incorporate Aristotle and his concept of the virtuous mean into this blog post somehow, but instead…I’ll go play with my kids.

One of my favorite times of year is this brief moment in February when the almond trees explode into bloom, showering a carpet of white petals down our street and turning bare stick orchards into fairy wonderlands. With the occasional storm looming dark blue-black on the horizon, the flowers are often a striking contrast against the sky. Soft petals spreading against frost and wind and rain, trees blooming in spite of the storms: I’m in awe of the joyful defiance of life.

We’re mostly healthy after the storm of illnesses that kept us down for most of January. We’re now preparing for the season of Lent as it fast approaches. Given I’m still breastfeeding Beatrice and Michael is just 3, we’re taking an amended approach to Eastern Orthodox fasting this Lent — no meat or alcohol, but keeping dairy and oil. I’m also taking a break from social media (Instagram, etc) though I’ll continue writing blog posts. I appreciate the intentionality fasting requires of me: I’ve learned to meal plan for the entire week and use up leftovers in other meals. I’m hoping the social media fast also helps me prioritize intentionality in my leisure time, too.

I took advantage of our good weather and good health over the past week to work in our garden. The crabgrass had infested all the beds over winter, and it was satisfying but backbreaking work to clear it out. I also hauled a cubic yard of compost into the cleared beds to get the soil nice and ready for planting. I still have 1.5 beds to weed and one more cubic yard of compost to shovel, but all the rest are clear and ready for plants.

We now have strawberries and herbs planted as well as sunflowers and peas. I’m also trying to start a berry patch with blackberries and raspberries and planted some flower seeds to attract pollinators. We also found some frogs hiding in the beds: I’m hoping to create more spaces for them to live comfortably, while also growing and maintaining an organized garden.

Jake has been working on figuring out more efficient irrigation for our raised beds and I’ve been researching mulching methods and natural pest control, so I’m hoping we will have more success in the garden this summer. I always get excited in the spring and make grand plans, but I know that the intense heat of summer often leads to seasonal depression for me: I’m hopeful my work up front will help us have a successful garden despite heat waves and being stuck indoors during the worst of it.

Michael and Beatrice have both been enjoying the time outside. Bea still refuses to walk unless forced to, preferring to crawl everywhere at the speed of lightning. She has also learned to click her tongue and alternates between that and screeching as her main methods of expressing excitement. Our house is quite loud, quite often. I’ve taken to wearing earplugs during the worst of it.

Michael is quite the helper in the garden: he helped me shovel compost into the wheelbarrow and was my official snail hunter, helping me squish them or throw them over our fence. He also helped Jake uproot some dead trees and plant some replacements, as well as add more boards to our garden fence. It’s bittersweet to watch him grow from toddler to preschooler: it seems like yesterday he was a mischievous baby, and now he’s a rambunctious and inquisitive little boy. I’m in awe of his fearlessness, his creativity, and his kind heart.

Felix has made himself right at home: he’s gone from quiet and shut down to a boisterous, happy, noisy puppy. His wounds are healing well, and we’re scheduled for a vet visit soon to make sure he’s up to date on his shots.

He stays mostly at my parents’ house — they currently have more bandwidth to deal with all the training a puppy requires. However, on weekends he often comes over to play in our garden or chill in our living room. Michael adores him wholeheartedly. Bea is a little wary of him, given he’s a gangly pup who tends to knock her over accidentally.

I still haven’t finished any of my numerous knitting projects, but I’ve made progress! I’m focusing mostly on my homespun Traveler Cowl and my easy shawl project. I love the adventure of using handspun yarn: I’m never quite sure what it will look like until I’ve knit it. The easy shawl has grown enormously, and I still have two more sections to go. It’s going to be a delightfully large and cozy wrap when it’s finished.

The rising prices in the grocery stores have got me prioritizing food preservation and homemade snacks. I’ve been making whole wheat pita to eat with hummus for snacks and curry for dinner, and molasses brown bread for breakfasts. I’m slowly working through the stuff we have in our freezer — next, I have 24 cups of frozen strawberries to jam, and four gallon bags of frozen homegrown tomatoes to can.

I must admit, things outside my sphere of influence have been overwhelming and concerning on many levels. It’s been easy for me to look at the state of our nation and the world and get lost in anger and helplessness.

To fight this, I’ve been turning my focus to the work that’s right in front of me, and realizing what a gift it is. While gardening, mothering, and homesteading might not obviously be combating the larger issues spiraling around us, it is the work set before me at this time. It is good work. And it is a gift.

What a gift to stay home and use my time and energy to make nourishing meals and a peaceful sanctuary for any and all who walk through our door. What a gift to dig the dark earth and work with it to produce food for my family. What a gift to walk alongside my husband and nurture these two souls, readying them to fight dragons. May they be as joyfully defiant in the face of evil as the almond blossoms in the face of the storms.

What a gift.