Crusts and Crumbs: Dreaming of Spring

Friday, February 5, 2010

Dreaming of Spring

I dream of Spring. Well, really, I dream of summer. Scorching heat. Brilliant blue skies. Long days. Amazing sunsets. I'm a summer girl. Everything about summer just feels...vibrant, awake, healthier, warmer, more glowy. But, spring is the prologue to summer, and beautiful in it's own right. Rainstorms, flowers, moist earth...and seedlings.

Fresh, green, tender, delicate, tenacious, bursting with life seedlings.

I love them.

When we were at the store the other day, they had all the spring planting supplies and seed packets out. Husband, sweet as he is, suggested we get some basil. I had wanted to get some last summer to grow in my kitchen, but we missed out. So we bought this cute, little, cobalt, kitchen herb kit

and I sowed my seeds and have been watering faithfully.

And they're starting to sprout!

Well, one is. The thyme.

The kit came with basil, rosemary, and thyme.

I'm uber excited about the basil and rosemary.

I love those herbs and use them all the time, and am looking forward to having them fresh on hand! But the thyme...well, I only use it occasionally. So I guess I'll have to research recipes with thyme in them. Suggestions anyone?

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Change.

Understand, I don’t intend to stop posting recipes completely. I still love cooking, and sharing that love with others. But I’ve also always enjoyed writing, and have recently rediscovered that dusty love. I feel like digging it out of the attic, and giving it a bit of a polish. I’ve been inspired by other bloggers, by their
daily grit and grind that they share with the world. By their faith and tenacity as they plod through life. I feel like taking advantage of the flexibility of a blog, and writing what I feel like, when I feel like it. The crusts and the crumbs of my life. A recipe today, a remodel post tomorrow, a reflection on parenting next week. I face a wide open space, waiting to be
filled with whatever I desire. And I like that challenge.

Me.

Much of my writing will never even see the light. It will never make it past the parchment of my mind, where it is scribbled in invisible ink for me alone. But some of it does. That bit is what is written here. Humbly posted for the world to see, if it cares, or to ignore if it doesn’t.
I’m not a spotlight kind of girl. I’m shy, and quiet, and a bit reserved. Oh, I like a good razzing between friends, and a spirited board game with the best of them. I love hosting friends and family and cherishing moments together.
But at my soul, in my heart of hearts, I’m a quiet evening with my man, fire blazing, hands wrapped around a warm cup of tea kind of girl. That’s when I’m most blissful.
So, I don’t write for a spotlight, imagined or otherwise. I don’t write for others. I write for me. If not a single person (besides my soul mate-we’re bonded as one, so he counts as me) reads this blog, I’d be just as satisfied in writing it as if a thousand had read it.Which is good, because a thousand people definitely
won’t be reading this. No, I write because there is an itch in my soul. An urge, somewhere deep inside of my being, to craft my thoughts into words and inscribe them, preserve them, and make meaning from them. It brings me peace to take the whirling dervish in my mind and put him to rest.