It was so, so, so good to be back at the Island this summer. It always is, but after missing a visit in 2021 (my first ever, due to Annie’s summer birthday), our time up north was even sweeter than usual. Just like a childhood best friend, we picked up right where we left off. Even better? We followed our week in Maine with a week in Connecticut, staying with John’s parents!
Readers who have been around for awhile know that the pattern of these visits doesn’t change much from year to year — we take lots of walks, play lots of games, read lots of books, spend time with some of our favorite people — but the beauty and goodness of our surroundings is fresh every year. Here are a few snaps from this trip, if you’d like to see!
That first lungful of salty breeze and that first morning wake up on-island… nothing like it.
One of my favorite moments of the trip came early on: I delivered my Sundayservice the day after we arrived. A little background: each week during the summer season, a volunteer Islander leads the Sunday evening service. Though rooted in Christianity and still with many of the trappings of the faith (church bell, hymnals, etc.), each leader chooses the content of their service, and right now, most choose a secular message. While I love every iteration of these services (they are one of my favorite parts of Island life!) I knew I wanted to deliver a Gospel message that served as the aroma of Christ to those I got to address, and I spent much time preparing my service in the month leading up to our trip.
Surprising absolutely no one who reads this blog, my message was about the power of narratives – which ones we believe, why they matter, how they shape our lives. It seemed like it was well received by Christians and non-Christians alike, for which I am very grateful. This was the third service I’ve led here, and I hope it will not be my last.
Above: the flowers I picked from a neighbor’s garden, the arrangement I made for the service, the sweet yellow meeting house (used for church and other community events!), and the birthday boy blowing out his candles after church. Love him so!
The older kids had (very informal) tennis lessons a few afternoons, and since the courts are a short walk up the hill from one of our cottages, Kim busted out some margaritas for the spectators. I can assure you our island is decidedly on the non-bougie end of the Maine fanciness scale, but we enjoyed playing the part for a day :)
What we lack in status we certainly make up for in natural beauty. For a two-mile-long island, she has more than her fair share of beautiful corners. It’s no wonder June declared “playing in the woods with cousins at the Island” one of her favorite memories from the summer at our back-to-school dinner, though it still made my heart swell to hear it.
One more highlight: every few years we take the kids to the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens. It is an absolute gem, always, but this year, they had the coolest exhibit of gigantic wooden troll sculptures. Just stunning and so fun for the kids to interact with. Highly recommend a visit if you’re ever in the midcoast Maine area!
One of the most poignant parts of our visit was being with my grandmother. She is 95 years old, and though vital in many ways, has also had some health setbacks in the last few years. Watching her get to be in a beloved place with the people she loves was so wonderful. Watching the tender care and attention (mostly on the part of my parents and aunts) to facilitate her being there was also wonderful, and sobering and thought-provoking. It made me want to reread this stunning and loving book (which, if you have not already read it, please drop everything and do so right now).
I’ll end with this. One of my favorite newer experiences on the Island is taking the kids down to a particular rocky point to watch the sunset. We’ve done this a few nights each visit for the last few years. The changing colors over the water, the moon rising, the adults perching on the rocks warmed by a day of sun while the kids throw pebbles into the water… it is magic. It’s also not something I grew up doing, and I like knowing there are still new ways to enjoy our special place waiting to be revealed. We are lucky, indeed.
Then it was on to Connecticut! I have far fewer photos from our second week in New England, because John and I both worked remotely for most of the week while his parents pal-ed around with our kids. While we worked, they went in the pool multiple times a day; rode bikes and scooted on their long, shaded driveway; took walks; read books; and played a lot of Wii Sports, ha. And like an absolute angel, John’s Mom had breakfast, lunch, and dinner in front of us each time we emerged. It was more than we deserved!
A few highlights:
A date night at Shipwright’s Daughter, a new-to-us restaurant in downtown Mystic. Aside from the novelty of being able to have grandparents babysit (something we very rarely get to enjoy, living far from our families), we agreed that there was something particularly magical about having this new experience (new restaurant, going on a date as grown-ups with three small children) layered over so many other memories in this place. We went on many Mystic dates in high school and college, it’s where I had my first job, we’ve celebrated bachelor and bachelorettes here with friends. As in Maine, what a gift to still have the old things and to get to make them new. And the restaurant was amazing, if you ever find yourself in the area!
Breakfast at Sift Bake Shop. Speaking of new(er) things: Sift may not have been around when we lived in Connecticut, but it has become an absolute must for every return trip. Chocolate walnut sea salt cookies and everything bagel croissants as big as your face, the lardon and caramelized onion quiche, absolutely exquisite cakes and entremets that are now a staple at our holiday dinners… do not miss it!
A visit to the farm. This is the 400-year-old farm my Dad grew up on, and where I spent much time as a child. It looms large in my family story and my own psyche, and every chance I get to share it with my children feels very precious.
Thank you, as always, for indulging these memories, friends! Grateful to share them!
Happy August, friends! It’s a big month around here – as of today, I am transitioning to working four days a week. This might seem like small news, but to me, it looms large. I’m very much looking forward to this change, and yet I’ve also felt conflicted – not necessarily about doing it, but about sharing it. If it would be of interest, I’m willing to attempt to untangle my many thoughts in a future post, as I think conversations around women and moms and household responsibilities and “work/life balance” (ick) are often shout-y, shallow, and all-or-nothing. This would decidedly not be that, but it’s still a delicate topic. Let me know what you think.
On that note, the main driver of this shift is to give more weight in my work/life balance to our home and family’s management, but I do expect it will give me a bit more time to write here, and for that I’m very grateful, as this blog and community are a joy of my life. (Still no plans to make it a job, though, ha.) Thank you, as always, for being here! xo
On my calendar this month: — A week in Maine and a week in Connecticut! Two of our favorite places with some of our favorite people. We feel very lucky. — The first day of school!
What I’m loving right now: — S’mores game changer: use original Fudge Stripes cookies in place of both graham crackers and chocolate bars. You’d think the ratio wouldn’t be quite right but it is perfection. Heartfelt thank yous to the Michigan cousins for making our introduction! — We listened to several episodes of the Along for the Ride podcast on our recent road trips, and they were delightful! Each episode has games, stories, and conversation starters, and though they’re geared towards kids, we all enjoyed listening and playing along.
As a reminder, you can find alllll the things I’ve loved over the last few years neatly organized right here!
What I read in July: — The Prophet’s Wife | I picked up this fictional novel about the wife of the founder of the LDS church in a bookshop in Michigan on a whim. The writing and interweaving of time periods felt a little clunky to me, but what bothered me most was the seeming liberties taken with the interior thoughts of the main character: her feelings towards her husband, her faith, and the church he founded (all largely negative, in her imagining). Though the author takes pains to note this is a novel, not a biography, the plot follows the historical record so closely that I guess it seems a little cheap to impose such strong feelings onto a historical figure without evidence for them. Also, I had flashbacks to reading The Paris Wife with this one: you know you’re headed to an unfortunate ending, and so a sense of minor dread hangs over the whole novel. Not my favorite.
Revisiting my July goals: Write the service I’m giving at the Island in August (Yes! This soaked up much of my extra time last month, as evidenced by my lack of activity here. But I think it was well worth it to show up for one of my most special in-person communities.) Edit June in June, Volume 7 Use Cultivate’s Leap Ahead Day to plan our Bermuda “marriage summit” …and strategize and plan ahead for family meeting topics(More to come here, but got started!) Write out a personal reading plan for the rest of our current sermon series Complete June’s baby book Make kitchen decisions and order things (I am not checking this off, but I did get organized to make decisions… I basically gathered everything I need to make the decisions and laid it all out very neatly so that Callie can come over and we can knock them out in an hour or two. That date is on the calendar!)
August goals: — Enjoy our time in Maine and Connecticut — Edit June in June Volume 7 — Plan and enjoy our back-to-school dinner — Make kitchen decisions and order things — Make powder room decisions and order things (light, mirror, hand towel!) — Complete June’s baby book — Adjust to my four-day work week rhythm
As a reminder, many of these are drawn from my 2022 goals!
I hope the second half of summer is treating you well, friends! If you’ve had any fun adventures lately, I’d love to hear about them in the comments! :)
There is one detail about our family life that tells you pretty much everything you need to know about John as a father and, really, as a person, and here it is: when our kids cry out in the middle of the night, they call for Daddy.
I know this is unusual, because every time it comes up in conversation the other person is staggered. Moms are simply the default middle-of-the-night parent, it seems. And this makes sense, to a certain extent: if you’re breastfeeding, you are the one that’s needed in the middle of the night. And then, as with many other patterns, it simply… continues.
That’s not what happened in our family. It turns out I am a very deep sleeper, and so when June was born, I would sometimes sleep through her baby cries (even though she was in the same room as us). John, though, would hear her. He would go to her in her bassinet, change her diaper by the dim light of the cracked bathroom door, re-swaddle her, and then deliver her to me to nurse. Every night, often multiple times a night, without fail.
Maybe it’s that imprint of him coming to each tiny baby’s aid from their earliest days, or maybe it’s the relentless gentleness, attention, and care he’s paid them every day since. For whatever reason, when it’s dark and our children are scared, or cry themselves awake from coughing, or vomit into their favorite stuffies and blankets, or bolt upright in bed, suddenly desperate for a sip of water, Daddy is the one they call for. They know he will always come, and they know he will always take care of them. He’ll turn on the nightlight, he’ll bring them water, he’ll change the sheets and pajamas and find new stuffies and tuck them back in. All, many times, without Mama even knowing anything is happening.
One day, our children will realize how extraordinary their father is, and how lucky they are to have him: a Daddy who loves deeply, and sacrifices deeply – a Daddy who loves them so deeply he’d never call it a sacrifice. But I know this now, and this weekend I’ll honor him and all of the other extraordinary dads loving and sacrificing quietly, gently, day in and day out. Happy Father’s Day. xo
When I wrote my three-partbloggingseries last year, I promised a fourth post with my best writing tips. This was inspired by a kind reader, who wrote this in a past survey: “You seem to care so much about your readers! How did you get to be so relatable? I think you could be a therapist!”
I’m generally not in the practice of repeating kind things people say about me, but this comment has stuck with me for years.
Because I do care about my readers – very much! But what this comment helped me realize is that not only do I care about my readers, but I’m able to convey that care through my writing. It’s a skill I’m very grateful to have, and one that I’ve honed throughout my life. In the spirit of passing along what I have to offer (which is my heart for showing up here!), I took some time to analyze what, exactly, helps make my writing relatable, relational, and enjoyable to read. We talk about some heightened topics here, and I think it’s in part these tips that allow me to do that in a way that is – and also feels – open, friendly, and welcoming.
Whether you consider yourself a writer or not – whether you have a blog or write for your job or not – whether you write to record your own stories or for an audience – being able to communicate in a way that draws people in is always a good thing. I hope these tips are helpful!
1. Read. A lot.
Perhaps surprisingly, I am the last person you’d want to diagram a sentence or define a past participle. Instead, (almost) everything I know about sentence structure, cadence, and grammar comes not from high school English but from a lifetime of absorbing good writing in book after book after book.
If you consume enough beautiful and skilled writing, all that has been stored up in your brain and heart will eventually start to overflow into what you produce.
2. Choose your topics with care.
I could not write in my preferred style about every topic, and so when I consider writing a post, I ask myself whether I can speak honestly, candidly, and authentically about it. Why do I want to write about this? What’s my motivation? What do I hope to convey? How might I be able to help readers with what I have to share? What unique perspective can I bring to the topic?
Answering these questions helps ensure that not only are my posts technically proficient, but hopefully interesting and edifying for any readers.
3. Strive for precision.
Was it a perfect day? Or was it another kind of day? The poet in me (trained to observe and relate what I notice with details that illuminate) – as well as the Enneagram 5 (lover of exactitude and precision) – ensure that what I share is not only interesting to read (a “perfect” day doesn’t really tell you much, does it?) but also trustworthy.
If generalities read as laziness or sloppiness, precision reads as care – I took the time to find the correct, accurate wording. This doesn’t mean I have to share every detail in every story, but that because what I do share is precise, you can trust it.
4. Look for what might be unintentionally offensive.
Speaking of Enneagram 5s: we are known for being perceptive. This is a quality I surely learned from my Dad, who received his PhD in international diplomacy. I am good at seeing what others might find offensive, the little nuances that either bring someone in or push them away, and I care enough to remove them from my writing as much as possible.
Here’s just one example. In this post, I wrote the line, “I’ve found that it IS possible to think deeply and feel passionately about something without broadcasting my thoughts to the widest possible audience.” In my first draft, that line read, “Contrary to what some people would have you believe, it is possible…” but upon re-read, that seemed needlessly antagonistic (“some people” might make a reader wonder who I’m talking about with thinly-veiled contempt). I then edited it to, “Contrary to what the world would have you believe…” That felt less personal, but in the end, where I landed (turning it back on my own discovery) felt the most neutral.
5. Come back for edits.
I never publish a post the day after I write it. After I get out my first draft, I’ll come back on a second day to read through what I’ve written, adding to it and tweaking sentences for clarity, simplicity, tone, and impact. Returning with fresh eyes helps me catch errors and get to the heart of what I really want to say. If I published first drafts, you’d think I was a very different writer :)
6. Simplify and clarify.
In the editing process, I remove pointless adjectives, words I’ve repeated too close together, and other generally unnecessary words or phrases. I check tenses and agreement. I smooth out phrasing.
All of these things make my writing easier and more enjoyable to consume for the reader. Mistakes are distracting; good grammar helps a reader feel taken care of. As C.S. Lewis put it, “A good shoe is a shoe you don’t notice. Good reading becomes possible when you need not consciously think about eyes, or light, or print, or spelling.” Even if you don’t think of yourself as a grammar connoisseur, your brain will get tripped up by confusing sentences and sloppy punctuation. Over time, you might think less of my ideas or of me as a narrator because of this, even if you couldn’t quite put your finger on why.
7. Begin in medias res.
Chalk this up to one thing I did learn in school! In medias res is Latin for “in the midst of things,” and it’s a technique where the writer begins in the middle of the plot, filling in details gradually. I’m using the term loosely here (my posts are not exactly plot-driven), but what I like about this technique is how it engenders closeness between the writer and her readers. It’s a way to reinforce community.
When I mention “Kate” or “the island” or June’s baking without explanation and you, the reader, know who or what those things are, that reinforces for you that you’re a part of this community. You’re an insider. Writing in this way makes EFM feel more like a continuous conversation between friends than a first meeting with a stranger.
And if you are reading a post and run into something you’re not familiar with, but it feels like you should be, hopefully it makes you want to stick around and explore a bit more! :)
8. Talk tentatively.
This is a big one, and another one I learned from my Dad. Talking tentatively helps to project a blend of confidence and humility – in my case, that I have confidence in what I’m sharing (or else I wouldn’t be sharing it!) and also that I recognize there might be nuances and perspectives I haven’t yet considered.
This might sound like: “it might be helpful to,” “this can be a good way” “you might want to…,” or “I find that…” It also looks like turning from prescriptions towards observations and wisdom earned from personal experience. For example, consider the difference in these three lines:
You should wear a sun hat. It’s good to wear a sun hat. I like to wear a sun hat.
Personally, I’d bristle at the first sentence if I read it in a blog post, and I’d side-eye the second. The third makes me lean in – I want to know more. Why, writer, do you like wearing a sun hat? Might I also like wearing a sun hat? Much like whispering when you want a child’s attention instead of yelling, sharing a personal conviction from humility makes others more likely to listen with an open mind.
9. Remember rules are made to be broken.
These rules, yes, but even rules of grammar. When you’ve established a pattern of good grammar, you can break it for emphasis. A run-on sentence can communicate overwhelm or urgency or excitement; a pop culture expression or spelling can help strengthen community (you and your reader are part of the same group if you both understand what’s being said!).
10. Stay humble and curious.
In the end, all of the skill in the world isn’t going to make someone seem caring for long if they don’t actually… care. To be a good writer, you must stay curious: about why things are the way they are, about why people think and act the way they do, about why people care about what they care about. If you ask for your readers’ opinions or thoughts, sit with the answers.
Here’s the good news: I am not a particularly special person, nor even close to the best writer. But this corner and this practice is where I’ve chosen to put in some of my 10,000 hours, and so I hope today’s tips are at least an interesting peek behind the EFM curtain. As always, thank you for being here and for reading my earnestly caring, but always imperfect, writing :) I am grateful for you!
