white apples . a blog

Two!

In the middle of October's hustle and bustle, this guy turned two! TWO! And what a giant bundle of joy and purpose and laughter he is. He hops, skips, tumbles through the world with a big, open heart, taking it all in. He loves to sing and dance and play baseball. He loves smoothies and jigsaw puzzles. His smiling kisses and big, wide-armed hugs melt this mama's heart every single time. He moves and moves, chattering and giggling and narrating his day at the top of his lungs. But then he has moments of such peaceful, quiet concentration - building a castle, listening to a story, assembling a puzzle piece by piece. 

He loves octagons and the color green. He loves trains and garbage trucks and the letter J. He adores his sister and will follow her unconditionally. They build forts and tell stories and jump off furniture into piles of pillows. She convinces him to fairy-dance and princess-twirl and he convinces her to play all-aboard-the-choo-choo-train and picking-up-the-garbage.

I can't believe he is only two.

stripes for the noggins

My knitty queue is a mile long with various woolie warm cozies for winter and dozens of knitted play crowns for our school's Holiday Faire. But I couldn't help putting everything on hold to knit up these stripey, gnomey Noro hats for the kiddos. The pattern is free on the Living Crafts blog. The yarn is some discontinued Noro Iro that I got for a very spiffy, discounted price some months back. The nifty playset was our end-of-summer treat to ourselves.

Ravelry links here and here.

oh, october.

I look forward to October all year long - those spiced cider days brimming with golden light and leafy gusts that make your heart race and your arms reach out. Everything is full and bright and balanced on the edge. September's heat and bugs are gone. November's dusty decline is still almost a dream. October is my touchstone.

But this October was here and then it was gone - trips and weddings and busyness. Life took over and we tumble-jumbled through my favorite month. With all the push and pull of work and travel, I hurried us through our days, raising my voice much too often, directing the where and when with too much authority and too little grace and gentleness. Frustration was our constant house guest - mostly mine, sometimes hers. And now, as our days get shorter and our rhythms are returning, I hope for the calm and the quiet of the season, simplicity over excess and gratitude over obligation.

There were moments though, this crazy whirlwind October, when we left dinner unmade and turned our backs on the clutter, when all the to-do's and should-have-done's fell away. We stayed outside for hours, crunching in leaves and looking at clouds, our pockets full of acorns and seeds and forgotten things. We dug through the remnants of the vegetable garden and the withering flowerbeds and watched cardinals fight over space on the birdfeeder. There were moments, though far too few, when we drank in the season and felt full and bright and balanced on the edge.