Tuesday, March 26, 2013

{before the sun}

God speaks to me in colors. Subtle shades share their secrets; intense inks keenly reach into my soul.  I can feel their presence.  Moreover, I can hear the stories they tell. Rich with desires deep.  Pale lying in wait for the potential permeating glow.  Still in solemnity, pastels swirl with ones much like the other melding tranquility and finding center.  My insides are better because of their place in my world.

I woke up to 37 early.  Well before the sun and my alarm clock.  It was a resolute awakening from a slumber on the surface of me. No glitter pops or fancy heels were in my future.  No hoopty-hoops and holla-atchus either.  I woke with a clarity magnified by a sweet peace on my day of me.

His breathes were so sound and serene amid the wee hours.  I took the time to press in against him only to find warmth and my favorite spot for snuggling.  Right underneath his ear lobe and a little before his jaw line.  My nose knows the spot. Deep in a world of dreams, he was unbeknownst and  bothered none by my invasion of him.  I was careful to pull the covers close around his broad shoulders only to slide out from the bounds of the place I share with my husband.

Routine knows the way around a 37 year old.  They have an established history of friendship together you see.  It seems their camaraderie manifested oh about year 33.  Nighttime regimens like lip balm of the specific brand, wrinkle cream slathered, reading before bed, checking the weather and coffee pots programmed all fit right nicely with multi-vitamins, reading glasses, bi-weekly grocery trips, favorite fabric softeners and bill paying day. It was no surprise that I maneuvered with ease into my clothing and perfected my dental hygiene all in a bathroom of darkness.  Thirty-seven has a way of just knowing the proximity and placement of everything.

I sidled into a cold car and was off at an early pace.  On my agenda before full-on day break was a grocery store trip, a 4 gallon Weigel's milk stop along with a gasoline investment and a 3 mile run at that.  My morning was still and in motion.  My mind worked methodically and with a continuous melody too. 

And, behold, there were gifts. For me. Each one wrapped in kindness and given to me by strangers.  A lady dressed head-to-toe in a neon green public works uniform at Weigel's held the door for me as I left laden with 4 gallons of milk with just 2 hands for holding. A man lying flat on the floor still in full pursuit of hefty shelf stocking at Wal-Mart took the time to ask me if I needed any help once he spotted my quizzical look of wherethehellisthewheatgerm.  With a bright gladness, his tired eyes guided me to the next row over only reach to the back of the top shelf for me and place into my hands the desired product.  A multitude of goodmornings and howareyous.  Eye contact and smiles found me head on.  It's as if God was saying, "I love you, dear one.  Welcome into your 37th year on My calendar."  With each face I met, I said a silent prayer of thanksgiving for the simple goodness spread in a world capsizing all too quickly to hate and hurry.  

She was rushed.  I watched as her eyes met her watch at least 3 times in a matter of 2 minutes. In her son's hand was a carousel of bakery made cupcakes.  In hers, a box of Capri-Suns.  I knew today was just as much his as it was mine.  Beyond the wrinkled forehead and stress filled eyes, this Mama's heart knew that today he deserved to celebrate.  A mother's love will fight time and push around boundaries for their little one.  I knew the check-out line accumulated was not in her budget of minutes.  

It was as if I was outside of myself as I watched them from behind me.  Her foot tapping.  His happy transfixed gaze with pride filled eyes at each hexagon shaped sprinkle scattered atop the tiny cupcakes through the plastic container's view.  Her shift to and fro of the Capri-Sun cardboard box's weight. I operated on His time.  "Happy Birthday, man!"  I said.  His smile exploded from his face as if to say, "How did you know?"  Her smile was there briefly but faded quickly as she loitered on the noted boisterous basket of groceries I had in a procured state in front of them in line.  I reached out to pat him on the shoulder leaving my buggy ahead and abandoned for I, too, was in queue for the next active customer status.  

Today was his 8th birthday.  He loved Legos.  He couldn't wait as this was his last day of school before Spring Break.  They were watching a movie that afternoon in school and he was bringing cupcakes and Capri-Suns to celebrate his birthday with his classmates.  As his excitement filled my ear's space, I watched for an abbreviated moment as his Mama melted into his magical.  Her face forgot about time and for just a tiny bit, she remembered exactly why she was in this line.  For him.  Yes, for Him.

My heart catapulted out of my chest with joy for this little 8 year old boy and his Mama.  A Mama who was reminded of the good she has within, better yet, for the good she is giving out to the hands and feet she gave life to a mere 8 years ago on this day.  With a warm spacious energy, I found my hand on her shoulder congratulating her for the 8 year old masterpiece that belonged to her.  She thanked me kindly with a glow that only a mother can emit.  

With that, I moved ahead to my space in line and in my completely offhanded, energy driven "Meghan Fashion", I began to make the sound that trucks make when backing up.  


"In honor of one wonderful Mama and her birthday boy, I give you my space in line." I announced.  Relief filled in the wrinkled spaces of her forehead.  "Oh, thank you!  Are you sure?" immediately were the words expelled from her being.  I insisted.  The little boy never took his eyes of the hexagon shaped sprinkles.  The cashier actually had to use the scanner gun to ring them up as he asked to keep them in his hands.  

Off they went. 
Their day beginning before the sun.  

On my way home, I opted for the sunroof open.  It was crisp.  Quite the acute form of cold for the second official day of Spring.  I won't forget my hair whipping loosely in the wind that flapped downward into my interior console.  My sweatsuit felt warm and snuggly against my skin.  My fingers were tapping some off beat rhythm I had no recollection of. But, they tapped on just the same.  I could smell my moisturizer on my face as it wasn't even a full hour old from being applied.  Its smell wrapped over me.  It gave me a feeling of completeness I really can't explain.  
On a back road in our small rural sorta-new-to-us tiny town, I topped a hill, and He smiled at me. Tears streamlined down my soft cheeks of 37 as I opened yet another gift.  My car slowed to a stop.  I grabbed my phone and took the above picture as my heart had every right to open this one with each single paper tear.  

God speaks to me in colors. Subtle shades share their secrets; intense inks keenly reach into my soul.  I can feel their presence.  Moreover, I can hear the stories they tell. Rich with desires deep.  Pale lying in wait for the potential permeating glow.  Still in solemnity, pastels swirl with ones much like the other melding tranquility and finding center.  My insides are better because of their place in my world.

Yes, routine may know the way around a 37 year old.  But, it seems the older routine and I get, there is  another One we are beginning to know our way around.  The potential glow of the One who wakes before the sun is one I am proud to call friend.   Blessed are the ones able to give and to receive. Thank you, God, for my colors.  For Your stories, too. A new year of life I do declare.


Monday, March 18, 2013

{joy bomb}

I woke up on this particular morning only to smash-stomp down on two G.I. Joe men who had camped out on my bedside floor.  After my mumbling obscenities, all internally housed mind you, I stammered over to the not 1, but 3 laundry baskets full of tousled clean clothes in search for a hoodie sweatshirt. Mornings in our house of "we need to save money on our heat bill" are freakin' cold.  Whilst sifting for my favorite gray paint stained hoodie with the broken zipper {the one which I procured back in 1998 from my first year of teaching elementary school's end-of-the-school-year last chance at lost & found items}, I chided myself for not having a better toy management system implemented and running in our home.  Yes, much like visions of sugarplums dancing, amid my self rebuking, I envisioned the boys' toy room glossy and pressed into the pages of Pottery Barn Kids' magazine.  Yes, each boy had their signature color lounge chairs with their names crisply embroidered.  Ceiling to floor wall systems were in place complete with color coordinated buckets labeled in vinyl letters with each supply situated in its appropriate spot.  Toys were housed in huge willow & wicker baskets with chalk board name tags just so.  And, don't forget the rug and absolute out-of-your-Pinterest-world paint job.  For my visual readers, something like this.

Groveling in my pity of "I have no time, and that money should go towards our wonderful & quite hefty liberal arts private college loans instead", my eye caught a glimpse something atop my nightstand that most certainly did not belong.  Unbeknownst to me, I slept with a grenade 2 feet from my head.  I have no doubt it was Casey's doings.  He's into like shape grouping.  We worked on cylinders this particular week.  Guilty soldier.

Yes, my day was moving at a swift and remarkably happy pace thus far.  Ahem.  I fought back visions of a clean home sterile and void of all ridiculous noise making contraptions, Nerf guns, Hot Wheels cars, Legos under foot, and Army men too.  It wasn't until I was soundly through my 2nd full cup of coffee that my mindset was back to the quasi-stable camp of "They're 6 & 7 years old.  Deal with it, Meghan."

Every morning before we begin our school day, I have prayer time with each boy individually.  I keep a written journal of their verbal requests for prayer.  Once logged, I wrap my arms around them, and pray over them with the words from their heart.   
The grenade 2 feet away from my head & all night long was a joy bomb just waiting to explode.  Rupturing goodness and eternity from this day forward.  Casey McGill asked Jesus Christ to live in his heart during our prayer time this morning.  Through our family devotions, prayer time together and involvement in church, the Lord had been working on this little guy.  Casey felt it.  He understood the sacrifice Jesus made, the reasons why and the commitment.  I had the pleasure of leading my emotionally charged little lefty to the Lord. 
My internally packed oldest, the quiet observer and resolute one, had Jesus on his heart well before his little brother.  His path to salvation had been walked for longer.  Footprints had been repeated back & forth and back & forth again in his mind.  Eli needed time. He needed the space to soak Jesus in.  His comprehension was secure in Jesus' love & sacrifice, but his heart needed to catch up with the cause.  Two days after his younger brother's act of obedience, Eli Garrett accepted Jesus' invitation for forever.  I had the privilege to lead my son to a life in Heaven and a commitment to forever walk in His ways.
We celebrated as a family.  Hugs & high fives.  Long talks about the responsibility and joy that now resides in their place on this Earth.  Kenny even made sure to contact our pastor for guidance on moving forward with our sons' commitment to Christ. Kenny and I rejoice and have committed to the work in strengthening and supporting their walk as His forever.  We know in the 6 & 7 years of their life on this Earth little adversity has been thrown their way.  We understand their walk as His child will be constantly tested.  But, we know their decision on these respective days are nothing short of a joy bomb.  Heaven gained our boys.

As a mother, it is guaranteed you will have asylum type moments of  CAP LOCKED $%&*# when the job before you is garbled and the look book of child rearing is taunting and unattainable too.  No Pottery Barn Kids' organization wall unit can house the live out of the love you have been blessed to give life to. I love how God so frequently reminds me of this with G.I. Joes underfoot.  I love how He moves in & out of our conscience and into our material world.  He ties & binds it all. He reminds us that the journey is not meant for neat & clean.  It's meant for more.  Of yourself.  Of others.  Of Him.  And, He knows just when to the pull the pin on the joy bomb of our hearts for His forever.  

{week 46: my 2 in 52}

.mac :)

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

{start to finish}

Life is a collection of yesterdays.  And, all too often life's pace has a way of leaping us ahead of tomorrow and even already into next week or month sadly enough.  Prior to the purchase of a fancy camera or an iPhone, I took the time to document a day with the boys from start to finish here. With no words and just pictures, this 4 year old memory is one I cherish looking back on.  Now, with both the treasures of a fancy camera and an iPhone, I decided there really are no excuses for not capturing the heartbeat of our home on a daily basis more often.   No editing.  No fancy.  Life.  Real & right before us.  Happening.  It is my hope to manage memories a little more meaningful by using the gift of wicked awesome from one Mr. Steve Jobs.

I give you our 3.11.13 from start-to-finish:

{from left to right by rows}:
  • I began my day in prayer.  I was on Day 21 of my 40 day prayer challenge reading this book.  It talked about praying for the discernment of God's will for your life.  I liked that it spoke of your will being for His glory.  I long to be more unselfish in my walk. He is working on me in big ways here.
  • I then went to take the recycling to the garage.  Once there, I looked over to see my car freshly washed on Sunday afternoon by Kenny.  I stopped right then, snapped a picture and then thanked God for the sweet gift of a clean car from my husband.
  • Math time outside with basketball and chalk was just after spelling & writing time.  Hit 2-Solve 2 is our drill.  Eli and Casey both are blowing me away with their math skill comprehension.  They get it.  They love to show they get it.  Their accuracy and proficiency is a blessing and a joy for this teacher/mama.
  • Inside for carpet math.  Time & money.  Brother check and Mama monitor.  Challenges.  Quarter till.  Quarter after.  Half past.  1:07.  8:48.  Change back.  Rockstars.   
  • Casey Face helped me make sandwich bread pizza for lunch.  We made a community plate and pretended we were eating in a restaurant.
  • Two men delivered flowers to my doorstep.  I love getting flowers!
  • After lunch, Eli wanted to count money and give himself challenges all on his own. The power of self motivation is noted here.
  • We stopped to take an hour break from school so I could finish up some sewing.  I snapped this picture from my sewing studio window.  Eli is in camo gear with a muscle basketball shirt and combat helmet. Casey is from head-to-toe in Superman costume.  They are pretending they are in battle.  
  • I finished 2 Nantucketts during this 60 minute time span.
  • On the way to the post office, Eli brought his Harry Potter book he is reading independently.  He is on the 2nd book of the series.  At a red light, I snapped this picture of him laughing at something funny in the book.  
  • On the way home from the post office, it started raining.  
  • I received this image from my best friend.  It is of Jeremiah 29:11 that I sent to her in the mail.  She sent this picture to me thanking me for sending her encouragement and letting me know that OCD in her put it in a ziploc bag so it wouldn't get messed up as she planned to carry it in her purse with her at all times.  I stopped and thanked Him for her and the joy she brings my life when I received this text.
  • I'm wearing navy on my nails this week.  Had a little fun with my index finger and pinstripes. 
  • Upon returning home from the post office, I read with each boy for our reading time.  Snapped a picture of reading with Casey on his bed. It was sheet washing day, so we piled atop a naked bed and sprawled out to read.  He is mastering huge words.  His intonation is just the best.  He loves getting into  each character in the story.  Reading is becoming a joy with him.  I love that he has "b" snuggled up under him while reading.  This serves as a soft spot to this homeschooling Mama.  "B" wouldn't be in his classroom.  "B" makes everything possible to Casey.
  • I timed myself 3 different times during the day for 5 minute intervals to stop in our living room and fold laundry.  It stayed their until it all was folded by around 9:00 PM and then just moved into piles in each bedroom to be put away the next day.  I liked that I didn't let it overwhelm or consume me to finish.  Laundry is a priority.  It is not THE priority.  Love the image of Jack & Jill, our cats, piled up sleeping together in the recliner.
  • Evening time we began our monthly canvas project.  Art time brings out the best in my boys.  Their mood settles and lifts.  Teamwork beams out of them, too.  I love that they talk the entire time about their plans for the project bouncing ideas off one another
  • I joined them in painting working on some dreams I have for myself.  This mess serves as sweet reminder of what together looks like.  I left this mess just right where it was to go workout with Kenny. I enjoy this time together with him.  We endure.  We sweat. We are making the choice to make our bodies stronger.  
  • While monitoring Casey's bath, I drank a glass of wine and sat on closed toilet seat and talked with him.  I also sent this picture text to 3 of my girls in a group message toasting them to friendship.  I loved that I got 3 pictures back from each of them as a toast back.  Sometimes these sweet easys are the love that lifts us most.
  • I love the blueberry cheesecake candle burning in my living room.  It is my absolute favorite scent I sell.  I decided to snap a picture and spread the word on my k.Mac Facebook page about the upcoming sale of this scent.  Impromptu & all.
  • I snapped this picture in my socks and on the wet concrete of my back porch.  It was as if heaven was smiling down and saying, "I can hardly wait for you!"  After this, I came inside, finished folding laundry and watched The Biggest Loser with the entire family.  We then had our family devotion time where we finished our first devotion book together.  Prayers and boys to bed left time for Kenny and I to talk with sleepy eyes and in between yawns about our day in tidbit fashion.  I showered, lubed up with an excessive amount of wrinkle cream and then snuggled my guy until dreams found me.
Start to finish.  Life's yesterday. Thank you, Steve Jobs.

.mac :)

Friday, March 8, 2013


Look at me.  I'm in an overcoat and it's all cinched up.  You realize I know what's going through your mind. Clairvoyance and me are twisted sisters.  Where on Earth did she find that coat?  There ain't no telling what get up she's got on up under there.  How does Eli keep a straight face when he photographs his Mama every month?  Does Goodwill realize she could be like the blonde Target girl in the Christmas commercials from 2011 for their company?  She's is for real that out there.  I mean does she really get obsessive amounts of joy from good deals and donuts.  Scratch the donut part.  I said that. Not you. 
February was my month to divulge.  If you sit long enough on that 7 letter display, it can leave you feeling sneaky.  At least it did me when I sat down to decide my words of each month for 2013.  I hemmed and hawed over February.  My gut said, "Divulge is your word. It fits."  But, my social innards said, "Fool, what are you doing?  You know they already think you're a fruit loop for these monthly parades already."  I let them internally hash it out for a bit, and then, like The Rock, I decided to lay the smack down on good ole social innards.  My girl, Clairvoyance, tells me street-like and all the time,  "Haters gonna hate. Go on and do your thing. I'm out ahead of you, remember? I got you, Boo."

So, I'm divulging.

For those all new to this monthly-merry-round, go here to read about my new word for 2013. It'll be all the cliff notes you need.  Then you can go ahead and skip on over here to read about my word for January.  And, if you're feeling totally inspired and ready to shop Goodwill and completely up for re-vamping your life in a real kinda way bored and need some more things to divert your attention from the pile of work on your desk, the heaping dishes climbing out of your sink or that huge project you are excessively behind on, then by all means, go here to read all about my 2012.  
You've already scrolled down to see what's under my coat, haven't you?  Clairvoyance tells me all her secrets. Told you we were tight.  Consider yourself buh-usted.  Divulge means to make known.  I loved that in my dictionary it has this in parentheses (private or sensitive information). How many of us keep our own set of parentheses nearby and handy for the yucky parts of our lives?  Guilty.  I told you she tells me everything.

I give you my story board mission for February:
Romans 12:2---Game changer.  Clairvoyance tells me all the time. Your score card is in His hands.  Remember that.  My place & my face on this globe is for getting out the glory of Him.  Giving it in doses large.  And, moving out of my own way when my sour gets the best of me.  The mind is a powerful place.  Lots of room to let ugly set up camp if you aren't careful.  The camp counselors at Ugly Camp have dreadful uniforms, too.  They wear horns and carry pitch forks.  Poof.  BE GONE.  I am His.  Game changer.

Dump---I suck at a lot of things.  I am good at some too.  This month I chose to focus on not letting the not-so-nice parts of me control who I am.  I am noticing that the more I focus on what I can't do well, the more my heart holds unhappiness.  Moreover, the more my mind suffocates the goodness that I do possess.  And, before you know it, I am captive to myself.  Stuck in my own muck.  I'm wallering in it and completely coated in nothing hopeful, helpful or positive for myself or others.  February was my month to dump it.  Dump out the honesty of my yucky in so to speak. So, here I go. I'm flippin' the script on divulge.  I'm taking that sneaky connotation and knocking it down with the out & out truth.  Consider my parentheses exposed:

(                                                                             )
  • I am my biggest enemy.
  • I wrestle far too much with perfection.
  • I struggle with rest both inside and out.
  • I am stubborn with change.
  • I steal happiness from myself.
  • I second guess excessively.
  • I say sorry way too much and for unnecessary things.
  • I struggle with being confident in conflicts.
  • I am not a great listener.

There.  I dumped it to all 4 of you who read me.  And, better yet, I dumped it to God. He reads me by the way. And, He is rocking my socks off.  He slammed this doozy that follows into my prayer time this month out of no where:  

Your attitude exudes you eternally, Meg.  Your body will wrinkle.  Your health may fail.  Your circumstances will fluctuate. You will develop chin hairs that you must pluck incessantly. Your Mom did die. Your boobs will sag. Your money will come and go. Your children will grow up and move away.  But, your attitude is eternal.  In every phase of life.  With every circumstance.  Your attitude is your constant.  


Camp Ugly is now closed for renovations.  

Expect---good things.  Change comes about when we put our foot down on the fickle of us.  It's that deciding moment when we just stop the excuses of I can't exercise or I don't pray as much as I should or I can't save money like I need to or I wish I had more friends, but I don't or I want to be happy, but I'm just not.  We stop them.  All of the excuses.  We take stock in what our heart really desires, and then formulate a plan for change that best fits the goal. The solutions are never found if they're never really sought after, are they? The work put in has been uphill for me as I have begun this expectation shift.  But, without a doubt, I am seeing the good things.  My dumping along with my expecting is one helluva tag team combo slowly moving me towards a much needed mind makeover.  Fickle is easy.  It's safe & snug all surrounded with excuses.  Writing down my specific ever-excuses (the ones I have made forever on the things I say I want to change) and tackling them with a clear action plan is working for me in big and evident ways.

Express---if I felt it, I said it.  Too often I sit on my heart.  I either do one of two things:  
  1. I'm lazy and don't follow through on something tugging at me to share. 
  2. I worry about putting myself out there too much and what people might think.  

I sent text messages, made phone calls, put cards in the mail, looked people in faces.  I did all of this to swim the upstream of my heart's inhibitions.  Laziness and fear are my proverbial what has she got on under that coat.

Allow---God in on it all.  Like for real this time.  I have ugly cried on His shoulder, remember?  I will do it again if needed, too.  This month I placed myself in the passenger seat.  I turned over the keys and just buckled up.  I asked specific and big things of Him for myself and others.  I expect His answers will come.  And, I am allowing Him to do great things in me and in those others, too.  For Him.  I love how gentle and open the word allow leaves me feeling.  I told all my tricky.  I divulged my deep.  I blurted out my busting-at-the-seams happy to Him, too. I am allowing him in on it all.

Accommodate---my schedule and my work flow.  My family needs me.  I need them.  It was time I looked at ways to hone in on making more of my days for the benefit of all involved.  My days started earlier and my time became more regimented this month.  Quitting times were enforced and set times for work, play and school were maximized.  I realized this month that little times reserved for let down can do wonders to your mindset.  By reconfiguring how our day ran from start to finish, I not only accommodated more efficient work, but I also intensified my joys.

My mannequin story board for February:

My morale:
Random notes of the above:  
I like nail color  A LOT.   I know every name of the Insanity workout video crew and I pretend we all high five after every workout.  Butterfinger Blondies are da bomb.  I'm a hippy at heart.  I've missed writing hand written notes.  My boys are best friends.  A new water cup is a treat.  So are K-May Apple Fritter Donuts.  Talking for hours on the phone to a friend you haven't spoken to in 18 years totally rocks.  Kids have it all figured out.  Good books make good moves in you.

I give you my morals from February:
Everything is better...
when you live outside the shadows of you.
One of the most profound things I read this month came from my 6 year old.  In his free write journal about the human body, he wrote this:
1 life. 
 1 body
 He "givs" it.  
Noted, Casey Face.
Thank you, boy.

A sprinkled assortment of the Goodwill markdowns I found this month:
Leather full length jacket:  $9.99 1/2 off weekend 
Ralph Lauren seersucker shirt for Eli:  $1.99 1/2 off weekend
Gap boyfriend jeans:  $2.25 1/2 off weekend
Cream leather jacket:  $4.99 1/2 off weekend
Old Navy jacket WITH TAGS: $2.25 1/2 off weekend
Ralph Lauren khakis for Eli:  $1.99 1/2 off weekend

Um, read'em and weep {please note original tags still on along with the original price}:
Yes, this happens:
How'd I do this month?
Ensemble statistics:

coat:  $9.99 GW
leggings:  $5.00 Wal-Mart
sweater:  Limited brand $2.25 GW
leopard print tank:  $.25 GW
scarf:  surprise gift from Kenny {made by one of his sweet office ladies at school}:  FREE
boots:  $20.00 going out of business sale in Chattanooga 2011.


And, your thoughts, please?

Heck no.  
Seriously honest and ready for her best yet?
You bet. 

Gotta scoot.  
Me and my homegirl, Clair, are full-on looking into the crystal ball March of me.  She and I are becoming just so close.  I've even given her a nickname.  Clarity.  Twisted sisters for life.  

.mac :)

Wednesday, March 6, 2013


There are people out ahead of us.  We watch them.  Intently & with eyes steady, we see who they are.    We interpret their insides from the out hoping to find a little more of the who we want to be.  The ones before us teach oftentimes without even saying a word.  Eyes make individuals out of us all.

Observance occupies our souls like heartbeats.  Our emotions sidle in along the pump-thumping of what's before us too.  Senses soak in the sights procured; the us of us becomes rounded by our everywhere.

Stamped are we with the time given and the teachings too.  Lessons formal and unplanned.  The classroom of our journey never lets out for recess.  Who we see and how we see it presses in on the rhythm of our hearts.  Beats repeat as do the ones ahead of us.
Blessed are the ones who see love and grace.  Who watch intentional.  Who feel safe and encouraged.  The strength of their individual is imprinted and returned out for the next ones to come.  There are people out ahead of us.  We watch them.  Intently & with eyes steady, we see who they are.  We interpret their insides from the out hoping to find a little more of the who we want to be.  


{week 47: my 2 in 52}

Tuesday, March 5, 2013


{Butterfnger Blondies}

Who gets philosophical with desserts?  
I'll give you 3 guesses.

I've been thinking about layers.  They're pivotal.  Without a doubt, the one-atop-the-other is a fixture in life.  From a physical perspective, humans are comprised of an intricate collection of body system layers that work together to maintain life.  Learning a task comes in a layered progression too.  From watching a skill modeled, to guided practice and then finally independent trials, new information grows and gives birth to dendrites.  Knowledge is now appropriately allocated & freshly present in our brains.  Designers dig layering too.  The world of art thrives with the influence and placement of layers in compositions.  Beauty speaks to us in three dimensions.  And, this building notion runs rampant inside the mixing bowl as well.  Wooden spoons twirl roundabout while flour dusted recipe cards detail the progression of the caloric goodness to come.
Layers matter. They heed depth. They challenge perspective.  They increase stature and validate base.  Layers infuse texture into the world of one dimension. As humans, we are shaped by texture.  Molded by what we take in; melded by what we give out. Each year of life adds yet another coating to the beginnings of us.  
I long to to build upon my base. I want each layer sweeter than the next of me.  Sweetened by the who I send out from the wholeness of my story.  With my actions. With my thoughts.  Through my smile and in my eyes too.  I want it all rich.  I crave it for myself just as much as for the ones I scatter out to.  I remind myself often that the underneath is just as necessary as the on top & now.  It's there for a reason.  My job is to continue on working towards the delight of my 3D. 

Surely, you didn't need all 3 guesses now did you?

.mac :)

Butterfinger Blondies


1 cup butter
1 cup light brown sugar
1/2 cup granulated sugar
2 tsp vanilla
2 eggs
2 1/2 cups all purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp coarse sea salt
2 cups coarsely chopped Butterfinger Bars (approx 16 “Fun Size” bars) 


Preheat oven to 350°
Cream butter and sugars in mixing bowl.
Add the vanilla and eggs and mix until incorporated.
On low add your dry ingredients (flour, salt and baking soda) until just combined.
Stir in your chopped Butterfinger.
Spread in a 9×13 baking dish and bake for 25 minutes until center is JUST set.
Remove from oven and cool completely.

Preparation time: 5 minute(s)
Cooking time: 25 minute(s)




1/2 cup room temp butter (1 stick)
1/2 cup vegetable shortening
2 1/2 – 3 cups powdered sugar
1/2 cup chopped Butterfinger Bars (approx 4 “Fun Size” bars)


Cream the butter and shortening together until smooth.
Add in you powdered sugar on low speed.  Turn speed up to medium and mix until smooth
Stir in your chopped Butterfinger. (I sprinkled mine on top rather than stirring them in!)
Spread on your cooled blondies
Preparation time: 5 minute(s)
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