Snow White and Rose Red

Chloe and I2

Sometimes you have people hop directly into the middle of your life.

Of course, usually there are individuals who run the typical timeline of introduction to acquaintance, then potentially friendship.

Then there are Kindred Spirits.

People who feel like they’ve always been a part of your life, and probably always will.

I met Chloe for the first time when I was around thirteen. We hit it off (she, my dearest, bestest cousin Emily, and I) over an afternoon of Lord of the Rings debates. It is a story well told and re-told, so I will not belabor the point here.

Suffice it to say, that due to rather fortuitous (read providential) wedding shenanigans, Chloe (and Darling Ruby) were once again introduced into my life.

The relationship between hair stylist and bride MUST be one of mutual respect and trust.

Chloes and I1

As Cousin Joth learned the hard way.

Chloe made it down to visit for a girls’ weekend, and her companionship was just what a bosom friend’s ought to be.

And as we are women in possession of cameras, well…

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She’s a babe.

And obviously Snow White.

I guess that leaves me with Rose Red.

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(The top two photos must be credited to the ever talented, Rachel Clarke)

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Super Duper Yumminess

Grab some Hawaiian Honey Rolls:
We’re talking yeast and fluffy carb goodness.
If you’re really awesome (and slightly granola) make some organic whole wheat buns with raw honey.

Cut an avocado in half:
Leave the half with the pit in a sealable container and save for a sandwich tomorrow (because you’re totally gonna want one tomorrow).
Lightly slice the flesh (don’t cut through the skin) lengthwise and crosswise, and flip the skin inside out.
Voila.

Open a can of crushed pineapple:
Drain.
I would use fresh pineapple, but it destroys my mouth.

Crack an egg into a heated pan:
Fresh farm eggs trump anything.
Fry in butter, coconut oil…. or anything you want really.

Place a piece of provolone cheese on the fried egg:
Let the cheese melt.
Flip the egg over and brown the cheese

Put the egg on the (toasted) honey roll, smash avocado on opposite side, top with crushed pineapple, and consume at a frightening speed.

Boom.

Keep those heads in the clouds, y’all.

-HH-

oh give me to a rambling man… or just let me ramble

Well….

Year two is complete. I’m free from school for the summer–unless I decide to take Summer courses–which I really don’t want to do. I’m tired.

I’m tired of being an adult, really. I wrote that in my journal the other night… mostly because if you say it to other people, they smile knowingly as if to say, “Mmmhhmm, and it doesn’t get any better. Get over it.” I’m in a place where I have decisions to make, and I really don’t feel like making them. I’m being melodramatic though, things are good. I AM sad that I haven’t been able to write much on this blog lately. I plan on MAKING myself write something weekly, just because it’s good to empty my head.

It just seems like there’s so much stuff I want to do doing the summer (play and sing music, write, paint, craft…), but I also just want to veg. Then it’s over.

I’m feeling hopeful though, my attitude is my choice, and as always–I prefer to keep my head in the clouds :).

There will most likely be some extensive world travel in my future, and I’m just excited to get out of my routine and serve. It’s nice to finally have a goal start to become reality.

All in all, I’ve been settling and stirring up all at the same time. I love my family more than ever. Honestly, I would rather be with them than with anyone else. I want to get more of my music and writing out there. It’s the stuff I love to do. I want to simplify. I have people on my heart, and I’m trying really really hard to be faithful in the little things, because I really fail at the little things a lot.

I want to read wholesome things.
I want to make beautiful things.
I want to speak healing things.
I want to love more.

So that’s where I’m at, my little raindrops. Life is an interesting thing, but never let it pull your head from the clouds.

-HH-

Food and the Forties

I have been extremely absent lately, dear friends. It was a “write-full” semester (with a grand total of twenty-three papers), and I was struggling to find the motivation and time to write. Ryan Hood will be continued, no worries–I am just at a crossroads with the story. I am not sure whether I should try to make it historically and geographically correct, or if I should just not care. I suppose for now I could just go with it, but I hate inconsistencies in stories (though mine have plenty).
I have been very interested in my historical fashion hobby as of late, and have been perusing in some other eras. I have successfully completed an 1860’s corset and chemise–my first two sewing projects. I have dinked around with a sewing machine. But yes, my first true project was a corset. I will have pictures soon. I have it in my head that I MUST make a regency gown and a 14th century kirtle. The regency dress is a little cheaper, and will probably be made first. I’ve been drooling over some clover lawn for a while now. Either way, I have stumbled upon an era that takes less money and sewing to accomplish: the forties.


It’s not faultless, but I thought it was very forties-esque. I’m actually tempted to start dressing like this all the time. It suits me. I have a wool skirt that I wear with the blouse, but I’m searching for a good pair of shoes.

There are courageous people in every era, but the women of WWII were definitely women who understood frugality, creativity, and resourcefulness. We could stand to learn a few lessons from these people. We live in a world of wastefulness and excess. Historical costuming is frivolous, yes, but learning about the people who wore this clothing is enlightening.

Speaking of resourcefulness, I have to say that holiday food leftovers are some of my favorite leftovers EVER. The food tastes good in the first place, but it can also be combined into all sorts of tasty concoctions.

THUS, I present the holiday leftover sandwich, two ways:

HEAVY:
Two slices of fresh dense bread
Stuffing
Cranberry Sauce
Turkey

Warm up turkey and stuffing, scoop a generous amount of stuffing onto your bottom slice of bread, top with turkey. Spread cranberry sauce on other slice. Put together. Eat.

LIGHT:
Two slices a ciabatta
Cold turkey
Cucumbers
Dried cranberries
Spiced mayo

You should be able to put together a sandwich… C’mon!


Keep those heads in the clouds!

-HH

Check In

Hello all!

I have three pressing and drafts and a few new posts, but I feel that I need to “check in”.

I have a bit of  a paranoia when it comes to saying too much about myself, (I don’t need any stalkers, thank you.) But I had the urge to write life… especially since I’ve been writing so many short stories.

SO this post is called check in for numerous reasons. 1st, I’m checking in with you all (whomever you may be, I flatter myself.) 2nd, I have recently gotten home from a vacation that required much checking in.

Vacation was lovely. We took it upon ourselves to see more of the US than we have ever… and all in a vehicle. Thank heavens for “Green” by Ted Dekker, and the BBC Pride and Prejudice. Fortunately, I am of the disposition to enjoy road trips, and despite having to sleep in a bucket seat, each state we visited charmed me in its own way.

In Arizona we saw the Grand Canyon. Despite being told numerous times that it was the result of the Colorado River and millions of years, you cannot look at such splendor and mistake the hand of a Creator and enough cosmic power to result in such a chasm.

In California I finally made my way onto a surf board. I tried to convince myself that refusing to surf because I was afraid of sharks was akin to refusing to hike the Grand Canyon because I was afraid of mountain lions. (Don’t think about that too hard). The beaches were really beautiful, though. However, I enjoy seasons. As much as I enjoyed the surf shops and beach bums, I’m not a Cali girl. I’m not skinny enough anyways.

Utah was by far my favorite… though, the fact we were staying at a ski resort could have had something to do with that. Though I didn’t have my skis with me, I was able to revel in the irrational delight of being a “ski person.” We also saw Pirates: On Stranger Tides, and I enjoyed it. Haters gon’ hate.

New Mexico has strange clouds.

Mount Rushmore was inspiring. (Teddy is my favorite face). ((And chipmunk)).

The only place I found difficult to enjoy was Vegas. The roof top pool, pause-able TV, and virgin piña colada I drank were pretty much the only perks.

The thing I particularly like about long vacations, is how your home takes on a familiar newness… or new familiarity. You’ve been gone so long you look at everything with a fresh eye, but it feels so comforting to be back where you belong.

I swept my room today and I feel complete. Summer, bring it on.

P.S. I’m memorizing the book of John.

Keep your head in the clouds, love~

-HH-

 

When Life Hands You Lemons… Make Salad?

I’m somewhat stealing this post from my friend Chloe, but I came across the pictures today… so with full credit to her and her blogging- here, I will expound.

Last month I was visiting her and for lunch one day she made salad.

“You don’t have to eat the lemons.”

She had just thrown them into the mix of leafy greens, garbanzo beans, peppers, and carrots for color and maybe some juice, but I am the type of person who was raised to eat anything that was placed in front of me, regardless of my preference. So shrugging my mental shoulders, I stabbed a lemon with some lettuce and chewed it up.

It was good! Really good, rind and all. The lemon rind isn’t bitter like oranges are, and combined with the other vegetables and balsamic vinaigrette, the sour wasn’t overwhelming.

I thought it was interesting how life can be like that- we avoid the lemons, or try to sugar coat them, when in reality we should just try them. Who knows? You may actually end up liking them.

Try both this week; the real kind AND the kind life throws at you.

Pessimists pucker at lemons. Optimists smile and chew.

Keep those heads in the clouds~

-HH-

The Ballad of the Lemmings *part one*

Come, gather ’round as the sun falls asleep, to hear of a tale that the ancient oaks keep. A tale of two children born from seeds magically sowed; both small like the faerie folk in yon’ tales of old.

This story begins as the grass grows the dew, and the mists peel away leaving the sky lapis lazuli blue. Two lilies spring up, faster than norm, the petals revealing two small babes; human in form. First noticed by mother quail in the tree.

“Oh, dear me! Oh, dear me! Are those babes that I see?!”

All of her flapping and fretting drew a crowd; rabbits and chipmunks, even night animals! For she flapped and fretted so loud. The animals began clamoring and jabbering ’till their tongues turned sore. Not a thing like THIS had happened in the forest before!

The fox who was keen and as slip as a whip said, “Leave them there! It could be a trap,” and gave his whiskers a twist.

Turtle, a cautious creature, disagreed with the fox, “That’s all good for you and for me… we’re safe! My shell even locks. But those babes are in lilies grown up high to the sky. What if they were to fall… and… gulp… die!?”

“Your concern does you credit, old Turtle, my friend,” said the pert flying squirrel as he rolled from his den. “But you would have been better off had you been raised as I. Just shove the babes, let them fall, and see if they fly.”

“You are a fool silly Squirrel! Scatter brained and busy as a bee; take your opinions and *sniff* wings and go back to your tree. ”

ALL of the animals turned and looked in respect to whom spoke; for it was Owl, rudely awakened and standing stern on his oak.

“And you Fox; you are too cunning and crafty for your own good. Slink back to your pile of sticks in the wood. Turtle is closest to an answer, I guess… but we still don’t have a way out of this mess!”

“Oh Owl, yoo hoo!” A little voice called. It took Owl a second to find Ma Lemming (though she was on her hind paws). “I’ll take these two and raise them as my own.”

Owl replied, “But you already have little lemmings waiting back at your home.”

Ma Lemming nodded her head with a tear and then sighed, “But I can’t leave them homeless, just dropped from the sky.”

Owl shrugged his consent and flew the babes down. Everyone crowded to see. Rabbit said with a frown, “They have no fur Lemming, can you fix that? I don’t know how!”

Ma Lemming just smiled, “Nor did my own at the beginning; these two will be alright for now.”

The Thin Places

A week or so ago, my dearest darling, Rubyring and I were talking about books and imagination and whatnot, when she accidentally spelled fantasy- “fantasie”. We laughed, and then I remarked that I rather liked that spelling better. It looked more… like a word from my imagination. It looked more like what real fantasie should be. Upon both agreeing, we wrote a definition for our new word:

Fantasie means more than Twilight or Harry Potter. (Sorry to any fans out there.)  It refers the beauty of mind and soul… the world in our subconscious, all things beautiful and imagined.  Things are only impossible when they cannot be imagined.  All possibility is contained within imagination.

Things that are in our imagination are existing in our imagination… thus, they exist! Okay, okay, I know… it’s a little heady, but conversations and readings and feelings that had been compiling for months, all began to tie in.

The ancient Christian Celts had a term for the moments when heaven and earth seemed to collide- the thin places. I instantly latched on to this concept- The thin places. The places where the breath of God blows my hair; where the greens seem greener, and the blues, bluer. How lovely. How absolutely wondrous!

Now you may be a dry old codger who is wondering, “Why does this matter? Thin places… BAH HUMBUG! And what does imagination and fantasie have to do with it anyway?!”

IT ABSOLUTELY MATTERS

We must be able to see the thin places in order to find them, but so often our eyes have become scarred over. We have blinded ourselves to the thin places. A blooming flower is merely a chemical reaction; no longer a happening of wonderment and awe. We have lost our fantasie. Don’t you see? Our fantasie is our ability to accept happenings and feelings that are outside of our realm of understanding. We lose our fantasie when we are so uncomfortable or embarrassed with it, that we explain it away.

No matter your theological persuasion or life background, to limit the scope of what our omnipresent, omnipotent God can do is a prideful, hard, and self-reliant thing to do. I believe our failing comes when we say, “God, that’s silly… I don’t like it. Perhaps you should work in a more logical manner? Maybe you would consider removing some of the wonder and mystery, and replace it with some calculated facts?”

Why do you think Jesus praised childlike faith? A child can imagine a mountain jumping into the sea, or calling the stars by their names… they might even imagine a tea party with the stars. This fantasie/faith is the same that can surrender at Jesus’ feet and submit to be carried on His back. This is a fantasie that can see the thin places. That embraces the thin places and runs to them, because HE is there.

I don’t believe that there is anything much sadder than watching a child outgrow their father’s hug. I sure don’t ever plan to. However, if we believe that spiritual “maturity” is growing too old and wise to visit the thin places; we have reduced ourselves to thinking that we are too old for our Father’s hug. What a pity that would be.

Dear friends… this is the goal of ~head in the clouds~; to promote the pursuit if the thin places, the beauty of mind and soul… the world in our subconscious, all things beautiful and imagined. Optimists and dreamers everywhere, rejoice!

Keep those heads in the clouds~

-HH-