It is quiet inside, rainy outside, and the only thing disturbing this perfect solitude is the occasional post-it raining off the kitchen cabinets. There are 46 post-it notes still on my cabinets. Guilty as charged.
Last night I made a dinner that I quite liked (recipe here). But you already know what’s missing from that plate.
That would be anything green. Guilty.
I tried a new vegetable thanks to my veg box, and stained everything purple temporarily.
Sorry, cutting board! My fault.
I woke up late and hadn’t planned well for the company coming over shortly for brunch. I decorated very last minute and closed the door on my scrappy mess.
We had a Valentine’s brunch today, a few days late. And I so don't feel guilty for the tardiness
because actually, it was mainly for someone's birthday. Happy birthday, lovely Ellie!
I'm remembering again that life can be messy and it doesn't matter at all. My house can be a bit cluttered, my parties less than magazine-worthy, and my hair curling weirdy, and it doesn't matter. Unless I make it matter. And I don't need to. I'm so thankful my friends don't, my husband doesn't, and more than anything, I'm thankful Jesus doesn't.
My mathematician friend and I used to discuss aesthetics; she explained that beauty requires a consistent pattern that is broken (the arrangement of trees in a forest, for example). We humans don't resonate with perfect and absolutely clean lines (like modern, sterile homes). So, enjoy the instants of real and misaligned beauty today; I say bring on showers of post-its all over the counter. Happy middle of the week messy-beauty from me to you!