Sunday, November 30, 2014

Dried Basil Gift Set


My herb garden overflowed with basil this summer.  And somewhere in the middle of harvesting all those fragrant leaves, a savory little idea struck.

I should dry all this basil, sew up some simple little muslin pouches, attach a pretty and tasty recipe, and sell these for Christmas.

And so I did.

The first product of the Potted Goose is now available to you.

Each pouch contains 1 tablespoon of basil straight from our garden - enough to make two batches of my favorite spaghetti sauce.  And once you make your own spaghetti sauce, you'll never buy a jar from the grocery store again.

Nothing against store bought spaghetti sauce.  But when your house fills with the savory aromas of tomatoes and herbs, you'll completely understand.

The recipes and attached basil pouches will make simple gifts for teachers, neighbors and friends.  Or, they'll stuff nicely in the stocking of your favorite mom, grandma, or anyone who has loved ones to feed.

Ready for delivery or shipping this week.  $5 each.  (Shipping available, and charges will vary.)

Contact me soon - only a limited quantity available.

Have a savory and saucy Christmas, my friends.

Thursday, November 27, 2014

To everything there is a season

We were 200 miles into the 219 mile trip to our Thanksgiving destination.  I had seen a handful of Christmas lights strung on houses, far too many blow up snow-men in front yards, and listened to countless Black Friday ads on the radio. 

By the look and sound of things, we had skipped right over autumn and Thanksgiving and moved into Christmas.

And here I am, early on Thanksgiving morning, the coffee’s brewing and the turkey’s on its way to the oven, wondering why we hurry so much to the next season, while the joy of the current season is right under our nose.

I spent the better part of 10 years helping with a leadership program for college student called Changing Seasons.  I was blessed to work with a team of creative and talented people who developed the concepts behind this conference.

The essence of the leadership event was that each season of the year evokes an element of personal growth.  Rooted in the seasons of agriculture, these concepts easily play out in the lives of every one of us.

Winter is a season of preparation; spring a season of emergence; summer of growth; and fall of harvest.

Maybe it’s the season of life I’m in right now, maybe it’s the holidays; maybe it’s the cold that just won’t quit pestering me, but whatever it is, I feel myself holding fast to the current season, while change is coming at me faster than a Black Friday blow-out sale.

My little family is in an intense and extended season of growth.  The kids are outgrowing shoes and clothes daily.  They’re losing teeth; gaining vocabulary and social awareness; dribbling basketballs; writing in cursive; reading chapter books; Britta’s even insistent on putting on her own shoes and brushing her own teeth.  It’s a summer-time kinda fun - watching our little garden bloom and grow.

But on the horizon, the seasons are changing.  A time of preparation is nearing for this momma Goose.  Our extended season of growth will march on, blooming and surprising me every day.  But the day that all of my children spend all-day, every-day in school is coming at me just as fast as those Black Friday sales.  My mind wanders into a season of preparation often. 

I try my best not to hurry this current season along.  Even in the hurried, hectic moments when I’m rushing to prepare the next meal, helping with multiplication homework, consoling #3 who was just whopped by #2, and wiping up spilled milk, while Brent walks through the room, muttering, “16 more years, 16 more years.”

And so, for the balance of this Thanksgiving Day, my heart will be on savoring the season under my nose.  The kids are up now, the coffee pot is empty, it’s time to put together some breakfast, begin the final holiday meal preparations, get everyone dressed and keep 10 kids outta the kitchen so my mom, sisters and I can get this meal to the table in time.

My mind will surely wander to Christmas lists, decorations, party preparations, shopping the sales, and the next set of holiday travel plans.  Even while the most joyful moments are right under my nose.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving, my friends.

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

A little longer...

Nell was so eager to start Kindergarten that the mere mention of the word school made her entire little body shake.

She bounced out the door that first day, eager and fearless.

So when the call came around lunch time on the fourth day of school that Nell had fallen from the playground equipment and likely broken her arm, I knew the time away from school would hurt her almost as much as the pain itself.





















And while I was sad for her; frustrated at risky playground equipment; and unsure of how to care for her; I see those days now as a small gift of time to hold my baby girl a little longer.










































Nell was the kind of toddler and preschooler that was fun to have around the house.

Another trip to the grocery store?  Smiling Nell preferred to sit in the back surrounded by the groceries.

Bathroom cleaning day?  She loved to scrub the toilets.

Dishes, dishes and more dishes?  It was her job to rinse.  And provide the musical entertainment.

Of course, there was cookie baking, sand-box playing, coloring and reading.  Her zest for life wasn't just for the fun stuff; she made the mundane a little brighter.

When she left for that first day of Kindergarten, I wasn't sad.  I was happy for that bouncy little girl. And thankful I had the chance to spend every day with her in preparation for life as a school-aged girl.

A broken arm just may have been God's way of giving my bouncy little girl and I a few more special days together.





















A few days to cuddle, to paint her nails, to wash her hair in the kitchen sink, to carry her from room to room.  A few more days as a little girl close to her momma; one final reassurance that my bouncy little girl is ready to take flight as a school girl.























Broken arms are sometimes so much more than broken arms.  They're a chance to hold our babies just a little longer.