Most days I try to write in our family journal. A habit that has come and gone through the years but with enough consistency that if my great grandchildren came across it, they’d have a good sense of our life here. The weather, the harvests, the types of trees planted in a given year, and the number of skunks that met their unfortunate fate over a particular summer. The stories are simple but I suppose fitting as is our life. Plain is maybe a better word. I know people can feel funny about the overuse or glorification of the word “simple.” Let’s go with plain. Most people do not feel plain is worth aspiring to. But to me, it’s in the plainest days that I feel most comfortable, most like myself. A nourishing pot of tea, a freshly baked loaf of bread, the perfect apple, or even the removal of another skunk from beneath our barn.
I am rusty in the sharing of everyday stories. Things have changed in the world and in our home and I never quite know what is considered palatable to discuss anymore. You’re either saying too much and risk being canceled, or saying too little and risk being canceled. And you’re not really allowed to see the world as you see it. I think of Henry Miller’s time, was it Paris the 30s? When cafe lined streets were filled with writers producing pages for profit with the support of their patrons, day in and day out. This was their work. I imagine it must have been grueling at times, but how wild for something like that to be possible! I wonder if they were afraid to overstep or offend or be politically incorrect? I do know they wrote regardless, so the consequences couldn’t have been that severe. You can find some provocative pieces from that time. Maybe they understood it was the cathartic task of putting words to paper that helped make sense of the very things they risked being criticized for. This tangled web of stories and observations, once cast onto a page and in the reader’s hands, the writer was free from. Absolved. Ready to receive the next story, the next observation.
My return to blogging will be simple daybook style. At least that is how I envision it. A gentle recording of the day’s highlights, with a pretty picture or two. Just a little something to mark my days here on this earth. Tell me, how do you like this beautiful website that Dee of The Porter Homestead built for me? She designed it with you in mind! It was time to have a proper website for better navigation to all that we have going on here, but it needed to feel calm and peaceful for those who visit. Nothing will pop up at you here: no ads, no noise. An uneventful place on the internet to check in on occasion. Hopefully you will find a few words to inspire or encourage along the way. We still have a few things to tweak in terms of organization so you can find things with ease (I have nearly 17 years of blogging to organize). I’m just not sure how I want to set that up yet. I suppose the beauty of daybook style is very here and now. This moment is all we have. Maybe vast methods of categorizing is the opposite of that.
I probably shouldn’t say this out loud because surely I will jinx myself, but I’d like to kickoff this resurrection by writing here each weekday for the next month. An exercise in habit-building. I remember years ago my friend Jamie, from Simple Homeschool, gave herself 30 minutes a day to write and publish a blog post. At the time, it was mostly about fitting it into busy mom life. If she couldn’t make it happen in 30 minutes, it likely would not happen. Sometimes her posts were a simple offering, other times she conveyed more heartfelt messages. However the muse showed up for her on a given day, it needed to happen in 30 minutes. For me, I’m not in a particularly busy season of life these days, but the idea of 30 minute posts is about developing that muscle again.
Formal teachings, tutorials, recipes, videos, and podcasts will remain in my membership community, Hearth & Home (though if you scroll to the two posts before this one, you will see I have added a couple sample lessons from the Hearth & Home archives, as a little welcome back surprise!). I’ll never be able to adequately express my gratitude to those who support my work over there. Here, I look forward to writing low-key snippets from everyday life. No pressure. I am sure these posts won’t be terribly special, but they will mark my place in time, and that feels good enough to me.
I’m glad you have found your way back to this nearly forgotten blog. Welcome! Please stay awhile.