outdoor spaces

It has been a soggy, mercurial fall here in our neck of the woods, and I find myself longing for crisp, sunny fall days.  The fact that going outside requires a pair of wellies at the very least (though many days some sort of sea-worthy vessel would be more useful) makes me appreciate the outdoor space that we have at our disposal.  In my mind, some sort of outdoor space is essential to human wellness, whether it's your own yard, a nearby park, or even your landing on the fire escape.  Like plants, we need light and air to grow.

My home is situated on a not-too-huge and not-too-small corner lot, but I love the woods that our yard rolls into and the expansive feel that it has.  When we bought the place more than a few years back, the home had been neglected and was overgrown with scraggly shrubs and forlorn azaleas.  Over time, we have resurrected some things, moved other things, and done a lot of planting, pruning, and nurturing.  I am fortunate in that my father, mother-in-law, and grandmother-in-law, all avid gardeners, have taken an interest in our ongoing project and are always willing to lend a hand.  The resulting space is a rambling, wild space, something that brings us joy and comfort. 

Our outdoor space is nothing fancy, but some of our most peaceful, carefree, and balanced family time is spent there.  It has grown along with our family and I feel a deep connection to it. 

Do you have an outdoor space that inspires you?

memories rock with memory rocks

There's something about that family beach vacation that is indescribable--a blur of sun-drenched days and breezy nights, a Mary Cassatt painting come to life.  One way that my family celebrated our vacation this year was with an activity that my sister and I always loved as girls, painting rocks.  The collecting is just as much fun as the painting, every single person in the family can participate, and the resulting product is something that can be a paperweight or rest in a dish back home.

Now, when my sister and I used to do this, we used giant conch shells and day-glo tempera paint.  This time round, I selected inexpensive, non-toxic acrylics in a range of colors and a set of brushes that came in a variety of sizes.

We collected the rocks together at the beach and washed them in salt water.  The kids had a ball finding their favorites.  Back at the beach house, we covered the dining room table in a few layers of newspaper and got to work.  Some people chose to commemorate something specific, like a caught flounder or a jellyfish sting, others chose general themes, and the youngest members of our family went "abstract" (though they can tell you exactly what it is they painted!). 

We dried our masterpieces on the front porch banister--also on several layers of newspaper--where they were the rightful subjects of much admiration.  What a wonderful reminder of these perfect summer days.