the january traditions...

I look forward to the day every year, and this day was no different- except that I had been watching the weather all week, and it didn't look good.  All of Friday had me hoping the storm would pass through early, or hold off until after the fun.  Usually I am just in denial, but waking up Saturday morning, there was no denying the sound of rain. A lot of rain. And thunder. We hadn't heard that in months.

Camden headed out early anyway, armed with a jacket, umbrella and a spare pair of shoes.  He likes the rain, doesn't mind getting wet. We followed a couple of hours later, windshield wipers swishing across the glass. By the time we arrived downtown, Cam had found his chalk square, and the rain was just a mist.  We took our place in the not-so-long line, and anticipated hot soup in gorgeous bowls.

And then we were off to Fifth Ave to find Cam and his chalk square... and wander in and around the other works of art that had taken over the pavement.

by cam & friends... using splatter paint to overcome their disappointment of having to paint the logo instead of pandas...

The sun has overcome the rain and clouds, and was shining strong by noon.  We would have enjoyed this day of giving (donations for soup, time for chalk) in the rain if we had to, but everything seems sweeter with the golden rays of the sun!

this and that...

Work has been crazy.
Home has been a flurry of preparation.
I am tired, but exhilarated.  This weekend we will celebrate Camden and he will receive his Eagle Scout Award.  The dreaming and planning has been fun, and I can hardly wait to get to Sunday and see it all come together!

Also?
I am so proud of this boy I could bust.  Seriously.
He heard from his last college the other day and he is in. Again. Seven for seven.
I don't know how he will decide... I just keep up my faithful prayer that God will provide the right place and the right finances, and Cam will just know.  One college trip planned, another on the horizon. At least he has a couple more months!

While I have been busy not writing, life has kept on happening.
Things like Empty Bowls, and Chalk Art, and children getting older.
I probably didn't even tell you we went "around the world in a day" for Laura's birthday!

I just wanted to let you know I am still here...
and after next week, I will have a little more free time.
Maybe.

on strolling...

I mentioned last week that I am learning to stroll. Learning. I am a don't-be-late-let's-get-going-I-don't-want-to-miss-anything kind of girl.  I have been the go-go-go-why-are-you-so-slow kind of Mom.  And lately, I've been trying to keep that pace without bringing on a wheeze... and it does.not.work.   More than that though?  Eric keeps telling me to slow down, rest, take care... or you are staying home.  Oh. So this is where the learning to stroll comes in.

As we visited DisneyWorld this winter, I had to slow down, and breathe, if I wanted to stay.  Sometimes we even stopped to rest.  And once?  We got to the park after it opened.  I am learning.

Saturday was the annual Empty Bowls event {read about other years here!}  It is one of my most favorite events of the year, and for the past two years, due to Chalk Art {and this year} we have gone down to the park around 8am, and waited for the event to open... at 11am.  Last year I noticed that there were still a lot of bowls left at noon, and so this year, I decided I didn't need to be there until the {very long} line had gone through.  Strolling.

But when the line started moving and I was strolling the park?  I got nervous.  I started getting antsy.  And we decided that we better get at the tail end of the very long moving line.  There were actually still bowls left at 1pm. It is a process.  Suz's Coach told me that waiting is only half of patience... the other half is not worrying.  Oh.  I will work on that for next year!

My sweet friend, Southern Gal, asked for strolling lessons, but I am sure that she doesn't want the four months of bronchitis {and steroids!} that have come with mine.   I can say, though, that the actual strolling has been quite nice... and it just might be easier to stop and smell the roses when I don't have to come to a screeching halt!

Some roses from the week:
-a safari walk with my guys
-beautiful air to breathe and blue sky to go with it
-chilly days, and downright cold days!
-a great night for chili
-a few more minutes to stay under the covers
-the one baffles my mind with her knowledge about college, and all of the how-to's
-shopping for jeans for he boy who only wears shorts
-a great night with our youth group, and some crazy snowmen
-remembering he needed food for FCA, and that he is a part of this group
-a successful IEP, and all of the nice things his teachers said about him
-a few quick texts with my girl, who is studying hard!
-plans for ocala coming together!
-the three extra shifts he took this weekend, and the way he provides for us
-the friendship between cam & kassie
-spending the day with my forever friend and catching up on months worth of living
-worship
-a study that makes me think i could do one more year
-the sting of a little sun on my face, reminding me of a beautiful day
-a prepared lesson
-my husband being my neighbor {and this post}
-a sweet face and her wide blue eyes, just a few rows up
-the choir anthem, and being able to pick out his rich voice {that makes me melt}

our favorite event...

The morning was simply made for sitting in the park... sunshine, crisp air and a soft steady wisp of a breeze. Green danced in the light. Being at the front of the line was the only reason we sat, but the enjoyment of just being makes me wonder why we never take the time to just... be. I cannot get enough of this weather... I cannot keep from breathing it all in.

Two and a half hours. We talked and read and laughed and planned while the line grew long behind us. Past the tennis courts and probably around the corner.  Eleven o'clock and the activity began. Covers pulled back to reveal treasure, and the steady forward movement of the line.  At eleven-thirty the end of the line bought their tickets and joined the fun.

I snapped my photos and chose my bowl quickly, knowing almost instantly it was the one...

and then found my boys in the crowd, already filling their bowls with steamy soup.  Creamy chowders of shrimp, crab and conch. Broths chock full of herbs and noodles. And even a chili or two! All donated by the community, all to be a part of this amazing event.

The basic premise is simple: 

Potters, crafters, educators, students and volunteers work with the community to create handcrafted bowls. 

Local restaurants donate soup and bread to serve. 

Guests are invited on the 4th Saturday of January to a simple meal of soup and bread.  

  In exchange for a cash donation, guests are asked

to keep a bowl as a reminder of all the 'empty bowls' in the world.

And if the day wasn't bright enough, there was a Chalk Art Festival and a serendipitous visit with my forever friend! Walking and talking with Eric and her daughter, we laughed the morning into afternoon as we strolled Fifth Avenue and admired the art...

The fourth Saturday in January is always, always, beautiful...

another day in the park

It has become a tradition.  Empty Bowls and soup in the park. 

This year was different... and maybe, sometimes, even a great tradition can use a tweek.

This year we juggled two events, but we had four to share the fun.  Two to sit in the park... and two creating art in the street.

I'm not totally sure how it all came about, but Cam and a friend signed up to paint Chalk Art in the street... and then decided they needed a real artist to work with them.  She was baffled and flattered, and the truth is she is a real artist... and my heart just smiled that he sees her that way, too.  So we left them... creating.

Two hours early, we set our chairs in line.  We weren't even first.  He had the newspaper and a book, and I had tossed some yarn in the bag... so there we sat, chatting and reading and crocheting.  The thought passed that we should do this more often... sit and enjoy the park.  The line behind us stretched on around the bend, out of our sight... and I can't help but be thrilled that this fundraiser is already a success, and that we came early!

The chalk artists scooted over into line with us before the clock struck eleven... and the the hunt began.  The perfect bowl.  How do we choose one out of 1,500?  The colors, the shapes... each holds its own beauty.  And soon, each will hold hot steaming soup.

The day stretched on in togetherness.  Artwork came together, and was admired.  It was a beautiful day.

the weekend of us

There are days when I feel like we are as far apart as the east and the west... words thought but not spoken, my insides tied all up in knot.  All for the love of the girl I have such dreams for... dreams of laughter and life as big as she can make it... wanting so much for her to reach out and grab it.  And then a handful of days crop up that are just for us... she and me and sunshine and life.  Those days, and every minute they contain, are lovely strands of spun gold... and I grasp them with all that I am, all that we are, knowing in the moment that they are as precious as the air I breathe. 

This was the weekend of us.
Conversation, laughter, fabric, cheesecake,
fuzzy blankets and bare feet, mod podge and soup.
The best of me, and the best of her... strands spun together instead of apart.

her party in the park

The idea came to us in a flash... and both of us knew that this was the best idea for her birthday. The best.
We had so much fun last year... just the two us. And we were anxious to share the experience, and search for bowls that she had made in class this year, or in clay camp this past summer. It called for a party in the park... friends, pottery, soup and giving back. All the important ingredients for her 16th.
The day also called for afternoon showers... and as I watched the sky, I prayed that God would hold the rain back... just a few hours. The gray, heavy clouds were rolling in... but the blue patches kept peeking through, as if making their presence known. Those bits of blue were just enough to give me hope.
I had actually planned ahead... and had picnic blankets ready and balloons to highlight our little spot. My sister took over the setting up while I went off to purchase the tickets and take a few pictures... so once the guests (and the birthday girl!) arrived, they wouldn't have to wait in line, and I would already have plenty of pictures of the tables full of bowls and the festivities.
I was planning on beautiful pictures... but my plans came to an abrupt halt when I noticed the bowl supply was diminishing by the minute. And then my halt became a mad dash as I raced to collect my dozen bowls... so at least each friend would have a bowl. As I made my way through the crowd my nerves increased and my heart raced. And all along I was thinking how this wasn't supposed to happen this way. Not at all. But I carried on...

The plan was for Laura and her friends to browse the tables and choose their own bowls. I had imagined that it might take an hour for them to find the very bowl they desired, and for weeks I have pictured it in my head as the best part of the party. Instead of hundreds to choose from... there were twelve. I called Laura,who was on her way, to let her know... so that she would be prepared for situation and not disappointed on arrival. Her reply? Okay. She must not take after me... because even with her acceptance I was tied in knots. And my insides just kept twisting those knots tighter and tighter around my still-racing heart. Looking for a way to accomplish something while we waited, Tina went off to collect the water and bread that was part of the event. She came back empty-handed. There was no more water, no more bread... no more soup. All 1700 bowls and countless gallons of soup had been consumed in just about an hour. The party hadn't even begun... and my brain was almost past the point of being able to even think about a plan b. Thank goodness for a sister and a great friend. They reassured me that all would be okay. I did believe them... but my mind was in break-down mode... and all I could do was beg myself not to cry.

Laura showed up with a smile on her face... and she and her friends sat in the sunshine and chose their bowls from my slim but creative collection. We had dessert first... and then the kids all ran off to play on the playground (yes, 16 year olds!) smiling and just happy to be celebrating. And I knew it was going to be okay. There was laughter and joy and not a care in the world about the lack of soup.
And then... there was plan b. And c. My sister called into the kitchen where she works and headed off to claim some soup. And Becky scrolled through her phone and found the number for the pizza place where we had celebrated ages ago...


It wasn't what we planned... but my girl kept on smiling.

It took me quite a while to be able to sit and start to relax... after being so tied up inside. But sitting there... sipping the warm soup now in my bowl, and replaying the conversations I had with God during the turmoil... I began to breathe again. Eventually I looked up... and actually saw that those long ago patches of blue had stitched themselves together and created a full brilliant blue sky. We had all made the best of it... and although there was much disappointment, there was far more fun. And that was what her day was meant to be.

empty bowls

It was a spectacular day...
clear, bright, blue sky...
a brisk breeze...
a beautiful day to enjoy...
and a great day for hot soup to warm your hands...
and the chance to lend a hand to someone in need.


Bountiful choices...
colors and shapes.
Bowls and soup.
Chatting and giggling under a tree...


our plan is to come again...
next year...
and look for the bowls...
we painted.

What do we live for, if not to make life less difficult for each other?
-George Eliot
*************************************************
...after looking back on this post, and a comment from Jen, I realized I didn't say much about what was going on! This was a fundraiser event in the park... these beautiful bowls are all donated from various artists and schools... and 27 restaurants provided soup. And after you purchase a bowl (it was so hard to choose!)you fill it up with soup, soup, soup! And the proceeds all went to Harry Chapin Food Bank. There was music, pottery demonstrations, and a station to paint bowls for next year's event!