by Sara Barry | Feb 10, 2015 | Uncategorized, what I love, winter, writing
Right now I’m loving:
- This gift from my neighbor and its reminder that spring will come eventually
- Gaiters and long johns (since spring is no where near here yet)
- My wonderful neighbors—and their snowblowers
- These cookies (equally good made with coconut oil instead of butter)
- Seed catalogs (more spring dreams)
- Anne Lamott’s Small Victories
- My moka pot
- Our latest batch of chili (in a bowl with rice, as a dip for blue corn chips, or on homemade pizza)
- Seeing people joining me for Write What You Love
There’s still time time to join us. We start tomorrow! Sign up here.
What are you loving right now?
by Sara Barry | Feb 4, 2015 | parenting, what I love, winter
The snow was soft, not crusted over despite the cold, as we trudge-tramped over the parking lot we couldn’t enter with the car, across the field, and up the hill. Trudge makes it sound like hard work, and snowshoeing is work, but enjoyable, rhythmic work.
When we reached the hill, the girls moved steadily up up up. At the crest we turned and looked out over the trail and fields, the late afternoon sun shedding that magical, golden light over the tree tops.
My big girl dropped her mittens; the little one flopped on the ground. I pulled out a narrow silver thermos and poured steaming cups of hot cocoa. The dog dashed and darted sending up snow spray. By the time I turned around, the golden tree tops had turned a dusky purple.
I took a deep, cold breath and smiled. I had almost forgotten that I love snowshoeing. My snowshoes have gotten dusty from little use. The secret to enjoying winter was getting out it in sometimes, but that’s been hard. We’d all manage to get dressed to be out only to have a wet diaper or somebody who needed to go potty NOW. We had little ones crying because they couldn’t walk in the snow that was up near their waist but too impatient and independent to go in the backpack.
But this year? My kids worked on their snow fort today waiting for the school bus. Some days I call them in at near dark. We all go sledding. And now we can all go snowshoeing.
We came back with rosy cheeks and chilly fingers, smelling of cold air. I was energized and yet ready for a good night sleep too. The fire felt especially cozy, that other side of enjoying winter.
Sometimes we need to dust off the things we like to do. If you want to do that, join me for Write What You Love next week. Over three days, we’ll explore in writing things we love and get inspired to get up an do something.
What’s something you love to do that you haven’t done in a while?
Tell me in the comments or use this a writing prompt: I used to love to . . .
by Sara Barry | Jan 28, 2015 | cooking, use what you have, what I love
I love a good snow storm.
I love waking to the quiet, sounds muffled by the blanket of white, even the rumble-scrape-clank of the plow quieted.
I love staying in my pjs late into the morning, savoring my coffee, standing at the counter mixing pancakes, listening to sausage sizzle on the stove.
I love too that my kids can get themselves into snowsuits, hats, boots, mittens with maybe just a little help with the zipper and get out the door to make snowmen and snow forts while I sip a little more coffee, read another chapter of my book.
I love getting out for the clearing, the roar of snowblowers up and down the street, talking with neighbors, the way people help others.
I love my girls’ excitement sledding, though bump that they mostly ignore jolts through me.
I love rosy cheeks coming back in for cocoa and snuggling back into pjs in front of the fire.
We had a snow storm yesterday that didn’t live up to the hype, but it slowed us down. Maybe that’s what I like best about a good snow storm, that slow down, winter’s permission to skip our regular routines and hunker in.
Today, we’re back to normal, almost. School starts late for my big girl, which means school is cancelled for the little one. Maybe they’ll sleep in. Maybe we’ll snuggle and read in front of the fire or they’ll practice their magic or work on a project. Maybe they’ll zip themselves up and get out into the snow long before it’s time to look for the bus. In any case, we have a little extra time today, not the full day stretching ahead of us like yesterday, but two hours to play with before we jump back in to school and work and errands.
That extra time on snow days always leads me to a special breakfast—pancakes or waffles, something I wouldn’t do on regular school day. This was our treat from yesterday, using the Fannie Farmer griddlecake recipe as a starting point and using the tiny bit of cider that was hiding in the back of the fridge. Butterfly pancakes would have been a treat too.
Snow Day Spiced Cider Pancakes
1 cup milk
½ cup cider
2 Tbsp butter melted
1 egg
1 cup flour
2 tsp baking powder
1 Tbsp sugar
1 tsp cinnamon
dash nutmeg
¼ tsp cloves
½ tsp salt
- Melt the butter in a small bowl (I use a four cup liquid measurer). Add the egg, milk, and cider and mix.
- In a larger bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and salt.
- Add the wet mixture to the dry and stir just enough to combine.
- Heat and grease your griddle. Drop batter by the spoonful on the hot griddle. When the tops begin to dimple, flip them to brown the other side.
So I love a good storm. What do you love?
Tell me in the comments—and sign up for Write What You Love, it’s fun and free and starts February 11.
by Sara Barry | Jan 21, 2015 | garden, winter, writing
The garden is covered in snow and a sheet of ice. Stonework, fencing, the plants I didn’t cut back the only things showing where it should be. Garden books and seed
catalogs are stacked by my chair. It’s time to dream
I dream of green:
Lettuce and spinach
Peas
Cilantro
I wonder how my garlic, planted in the fall, is doing. I imagine where the tomatoes will go. I contemplate new beds for fresh strawberry plants.
My garden sleeps, and I dream.
This time of year, I read about new projects, new things to grow, new ways to grow it. I choose seeds. I just dream of warm days, moist earth, and green growth. And I wait.
This dormant time, this slow down, this dream time matters. The garden needs it. We do too. I tend to forget this. I need to turn off the computer and get outside for a walk (that one’s been tough lately). I find new energy as I move slowly through yoga again and go to bed earlier. I soak in hot baths and am mesmerized by the fire.
It looks like doing nothing, but a lot is happening. Resting, gathering energy, letting things move within you that are too busy when you are busy busy busy gogogo. Take time to daydream. Let yourself rest and go quiet like the garden does. Let your energy gather for more growth.
Take a walk, in woods or by water if you can. Mediate or do some yoga. Shut off your computer and tablet and phone. Let go of your list. Pour yourself a cup of coffee or tea or wine. Sip. Contemplate.
Then if you want, doodle, draw, or write in a journal.
For your journal
Try one of these prompts or words:
Imagine
I dream of
Garden
Grow
- Write the word or phrase at the top of the page and create a list or freewrite starting from it.
- Write it in the middle of the page. Circle it and add other words and ideas branching off it.
- Write it in the middle of the page and spiral your thoughts outward.
Be dreamy, be open. Don’t edit or censor. Just write and see what comes out.
What are you dreaming of these days?
by Sara Barry | Jan 14, 2015 | writing
Last year I intended to write a lot. Journaling and freewriting. Essays and articles—I even had ideas for them. Mostly, though, I wanted to draft the memoir I’ve been working on for years.
What happened?
I put my book project last in that list, just like I put it last on my to do list throughout 2014. 
I wanted to do it, but it felt frivolous. I had other work to do, paying work or potentially paying work, that had to come first right?
My kids needed me. I had other family stuff to deal with. Dinner to make. Laundry to fold. Running. I was too busy.
It made a good excuse. The truth was that I was stuck. I had written lots of material, but I couldn’t quite figure out the scope of my story. I had an easy answer, but it wasn’t the book I wanted to write. So I let the project fall to the bottom of my list every day. Until it wasn’t even on my list at all.
Sound familiar?
In the fall, energized by a new schedule and the new start of September, I asked one of my writing teachers for help. She looked at some of my recent work and made a few suggestions.
I started to see the pieces come together. I was eager to jump in. And then work deadlines loomed and the project sat neglected. Again.
Now, here we are, a new year, a new page, a new chance to focus in on a goals.
Tomorrow morning, before I check email, before I jump into client work, I will focus on this story. I’ll sit in the chair whether the words flow or flounder.
I’ll come back next week and do it again. I’m starting small. Once a week. More than last year. A start.
What are your goals this year? What are doing to put them first? What do you need to make them happen?
I needed time, which I now have with my kids in school. I just need to use it well.
I needed inspiration, which I got originally through classes and writing challenges.
I needed help getting past my own hurdle—what do I do with all this writing I’ve done, how do I mold it into something more than a bunch of scattered files? I got that from my writing mentor.
Now I need to do the work.
What project will you focus on this year? kind of help do you need to meet goals? What will you do today to get started?
