One of the nice things about getting a little older is that you finally have time to focus on your passions. In the kitchen, this means that you have the freedom to break away from the dishes that you are famous for and try something a little more surprising.
Creativity has always been a topic I love reading about, so it’s really no surprise that I stumbled on this quote by Pablo Picasso: “Every child is an artist; the problem is staying an artist when you grow up.”
I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. I set intentions and while my intention for the year is to experience more joy, I enjoy reading articles and blog posts about reinvention.
My mother was a brilliant knitter. I used to sit in awe watching her fingers fly over colored threads weaving intricate patterns. As she chatted with me while knitting, I would have the honor of helping her roll her balls of wool. It always amazed me that she could do such complicated knitting patterns while watching the television and talking to someone at the same time.
I recently considered returning to dance as an alternative or supplement to the running and hiking I love. I began to explore a bit, determining whether traditional ballroom might do, or perhaps something more group-oriented. Zumba, anyone?
The music of my youth was more than melody and words. It was a kind of guidance into adult life, a soundtrack for thoughts and feelings that I didn’t know how to reach on my own but were given to me by the likes of Carole King, Joni Mitchell, Paul Simon, and James Taylor.
How many blogs do you read in an average week? Have you ever wondered whether you should start a blog of your own?
Gardening is good for the mind, body and spirit. But you don’t need a large garden, strong back or 365 days of beautiful weather to add some fresh greenery and color to your life.
All you need is a bit of time, some spring flowering bulbs like daffodils, hyacinths and crocus, a container with drainage holes and quality potting mix.
I can remember learning to knit as a small child and being delighted when I produced a hideous scarf, full of holes and dropped stitches and strangely wider at one end than the other.
Like many moms, I gave my all to mothering.
All my energy and creativity. Mothering grew and shaped me in ways I could not have imagined. But time, toddlers and teens have marched on. The days of up-to-my-elbows mothering have drawn to a close.