HappyGoStuckey

What I’m Loving Lately

August 18, 2017 by HappyGoStuckey Leave a Comment

“There was nothing like a Saturday – unless it was the Saturday leading up to the last week of school and into summer vacation. That of course was all the Saturdays of your life rolled into one big shiny ball.” — Nora Roberts

A change has definitely occurred in our house. Mondays begin with a bang and zipping backpacks instead the lazy “let’s throw the pool towels in the wash…” of only two weeks ago. And as much as I miss the freedom, it’s good to find our schedule bearings again.

However, sharpening pencils and packing lunches makes me instantly wish for Autumn. Georgia still feels like the inside of a greenhouse and Fall feels months away. August is the time of both/and. Longer days and busier weeks. Scorching temperatures and the promise of something different on its way.

Here are a few things I’m loving during this “almost but not yet” month of August:

The Next Right Thing Podcast by Emily P. Freeman. In keeping with her goal of “creating space for your soul to breathe,” Emily has found another medium with which to gift us with her kind words. This podcast is for you if you find yourself in a season of transition, waiting, or decision making. Even the music is lovely and hope-filled.
This Lemon Zucchini Bread made with Olive Oil. A sweet new friend and neighbor brought us muffins from this recipe and they were so good, we already replicated them to share with another friend.
Speaking of which, I’m truly loving cooking from a cookbook lately. There’s a world of great recipes to find via Pinterest, but there is something about cooking from a page you don’t have to refresh every few minutes. Bread & Wine by Shauna Niequist is one of my favorite books in the whole world– and I’ve been cooking from it frequently.

Recent Reads:

The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah. I know, all of you who told me this should be the next selection in my WWII binge– you were 100% right. It was beautiful and satisfying with gorgeous writing.
Keep a Quiet Heart by Elisabeth Elliot. I’ve read this book multiple times but it always brings me something new. The brief essays are perfect for daily short readings.

Lately In the Blue House Kitchen:

(We have a family trip coming up soon so I’m trying to focus on my greens. Aforementioned muffins not really helping, even though they do have a vegetable inside.)

What about you? What are you loving lately? I’d love to hear what’s working for you in this end of summer/ not quite fall time.

On Grief and Soup

August 16, 2017 by HappyGoStuckey 1 Comment

I have always believed that God does not waste our pain. That there is purpose in it– to refine us, to draw us closer and to bring Him glory. But there was a time, several years ago, that I thought He must not see me. I was certain that feeling of the rug being pulled out from under my feet was the fallout of God looking the other way for a second— taking His eyes off me.

I lost two different babies in the same week, four years apart. The first loss broadsided my joy like an eighteen-wheeler on black ice. The second time, grief wore clothes of disbelief. A repeat miscarriage hurt just as much as a first. My medical chart now contained the foul words, history of loss.

I sat in a familiar place, watching a happy procession of growing bellies — each followed by a smiling face.  I sat waiting to walk through the same set of doors and hear what I knew to be true. More loss. Again. Compassion with a large helping of sad news and sympathy.

I was way beyond small. I was anonymous.
My hands ached to smash something. I needed to shout words of anger at a body that let go when it should have held on for nine full months. I seethed at the thought of not being hospitable to another new life.
I sat in my car and stared straight ahead at a tree on fire with Fall and watched the leaves dance all the way down to the hood. I sat there a very long time, until I thought I could open my hands and let Him have it all. The bottomless disappointment. The gut- wrenching sadness. The fear of next time. I prayed. I cried. I surrendered.

Then I attempted to walk away and leave my grief sitting there on the asphalt studded with Autumn. I intended to move forward holding only hope and peace and trust.  But days later sadness rose in my throat; pain still seared through me white hot and stinging. I was genuinely shocked and aghast at my boomerang of grief.

Why do we think we are that strong?
Why do we think that grief and hope cannot exist alongside each other?
Why do we question what we know?

We forget that God is either sovereign or He is not. He is either sovereign over all, even the days that threaten to leave us crawling, grasping for hope— or He is simply, not.  I believe that He is sovereign over all. I know in my heart and I read in His Word that He is El Roi, the God who sees.

His eyes aren’t searching for a place to land, a place void of awkward. He is looking straight at us.
He does not stand afar off, blushed and embarrassed at the depths of our sorrow. He comes and sits with us in the pain that weighs on our necks.
He sits near enough to whisper in our ear, “It will not always be so.”

I know there is always hope, there is always room to look up. I know there is always God with a purpose and a plan for our pain.

But still I know that grief takes time. Just as we cannot view His purpose in our pain, we cannot circumvent the process. We cannot muscle our way through grief and choose for it to be over. You and I cannot avoid the wait, the walk through to the other side.

We will always feel the effects of the curse of sin winding up around our feet as we walk toward home. Not made for this world, we often forget how inhospitable it can be to our souls that were carved for more. Angry with our grief, we may rely on our own ability to cope in record time and be frustrated we cannot take any side streets to being okay again.

But we simply cannot rush the process of pain.

In the crushing realization that it still hurts, therein is the need we have for Him. There is where He begins to do the work. Deep in the pain that isn’t yet fading, is the beautiful mystery that He is always doing something new.

I know now that it takes how ever long it takes. I know that time doesn’t heal pain; Jesus heals pain. We cannot rush what He does in our sadness. One day the waiting will be over. We will see with our eyes what we felt in our souls all along. We will agree with C.S. Lewis and say, “Things are far better ahead than anything we leave behind.”

“Things are far better ahead than anything we leave behind.” — C.S. Lewis

But today is not yet that day; we press on both in joy that is here in our laps and joy that is still on the way.

In times of uncertainty or disappointment and pain, I tend to make a lot of soup. During this particular season of hard, I utilized my slow cooker nearly every day. Though I am at home in the kitchen, nothing makes grief so acute as staring into a fridge at 5PM and hoping dinner materializes. My slow cooker always helps me forget the long wait. I focus on the ingredients for fifteen minutes in the morning and then forget until dinner time.

Slow Cooker Butternut Squash & Apple Soup is a comforting autumnal reminder that time is a gift and better things are coming at the end of the wait.

You have been reading an excerpt from Simmer, Six Seasonal Soups & the Stories that Inspired Them. Click below to download your free copy, including several other essays and all six recipes.

Peaches & Cream Scones

August 3, 2017 by HappyGoStuckey 3 Comments

Every scorching summer, I buy a ton of ripe but not yet soft peaches and bring them home gingerly as though they are made of blown glass. They cover our wooden table like a polka-dot pattern of pink and orange and we wait a few days until they begin to soften.

Also with annual regularity, I plan to make these peaches into jam but nearly every year we end up eating them just as they are, chasing sweet juice down our chins with a paper towel.

There are many great recipes that highlight peaches, this one being one of my favorites. I also love to add sliced peaches and grilled chicken to arugula or spinach for a smashing summer salad. My friend Kristin Schell shared a fabulous Bacon, Peach, & Arugula Sandwich recently and I confess I made it twice. Two days. In a row. (It’s that good. And yes, I should be ashamed of myself, but I’m not. Because Summer comes but once a year.)

When peaches are at their peachiest peak, the best way to eat them is fresh and not baked into something. I only tend to bake with them if they are softening faster than we can eat them. But last week I noticed I had several peaches ripe and ready at once, so I toyed around with my basic scone recipe to make Peaches & Cream Scones. These were both flaky and dense like true scones should be.

This is my fourth scone recipe published here and it likely won’t be the last. Scones are definitely my thing; both from the love of my English Grandmother and my kindred spirit friend who taught me the joy of chocolate chip scones. You don’t mind more scone recipes, do you?

They are the single most requested weekend breakfast treat in the Blue House, and I’m pretty happy being the scone girl. I hope you not only love them, but love how easy they are– and how much they cause you to realize what a baking rockstar you are.

Peaches & Cream Scones

Author: Cynthia Stuckey

Prep time: 10 mins

Cook time: 12 mins

Total time: 22 mins

Serves: 8 or 16

Delicate Flaky Scones studded with tiny pieces of summer peaches. Note: if your peaches are very ripe and juicy, toss them in flour before adding to the scone dough, and don't over-mix. These, being cream scones are made with heavy cream instead of egg, butter, and half and half.

Ingredients

2 cups All Purpose Flour
⅔ cup of Rolled Oats
1 tbsp. Baking Powder
½ tsp. Salt
¼ tsp. Ground Cinnamon
⅓ cup of Sugar, my preference is raw sugar.
1 large peach, diced (peeled or unpeeled.)
1½ cups Heavy Cream
1 tsp. vanilla

Method

In the large bowl of a food processor, blend together the dry ingredients (flour through sugar.)
Pulse until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs.
Add peaches and then pulse quickly once or twice or mix with a fork.
Add the heavy cream and then pulse 2-4 times.
Take care not to over-mix. You can do this step by hand with a fork or spatula.
Invert the food processor bowl onto a lightly floured surface.
Work dough lightly into a rough circle. It may be slightly shaggy, but just lightly pull it together with your hands.
Once the circle is formed, cut into 8 large or 16 small wedges.
Place wedges onto a sheet of parchment paper on a cookie sheet.
Just before baking, brush the tops with a smidge more cream and a sprinkling of raw sugar.
Bake at 425' for 12-14 minutes. They should be light brown on the bottom, and even lighter on top. These scones freeze very well, but freeze them the same day for best results.

A Summer of Rhythm & Absence

July 13, 2017 by HappyGoStuckey 1 Comment

The sun is rising higher, earlier, every day and the birdsong is drowning in the noise of a hundred frogs. We’ve plowed through dozens of sticky popsicles and my library card is practically glowing from being swiped and handed back to me.

The peaches are in, the tomatoes are ripe— we are building meals around both. Because in our southern corner, July is a lot like visiting a farmer’s market… which happens to be located on the surface of the sun. The upside is all the amazing produce. The downside is the way your legs, in shorts, meld to the front seat of your car.

Hot, steamy weather aside, I know the seasonal gifts are among the best.

This is what it is to truly summer. To delight in what we hold, knowing we won’t hold it for much longer. To embrace long mornings and loose schedules. These brief months have a pace all their own— more laissez-faire, less get it done. Summer is rest.

For the second summer in a row, I took an accidental writing break. I didn’t mean to do it. What I *meant to do was have a summer full of words written. Sentences strung together into paragraphs for you. But maybe you needed to hear less from me this summer. I needed to write less, and listen more.

Often even as we savor summer, a break can feel like an indulgence– especially when all our roles are mashed up together. I like to choose my absence, but welcoming the effect of it is often harder. Maybe it’s hard for you too?

Maybe you’ve spent your whole summer feeling torn between what you thought your summer should be and what it is. Maybe you thought you would spend these months playing catch up, but instead you’re playing UNO and monopoly and camp director.

Maybe you had an amazing week away or day with your people only to scroll through your phone at ten pm and feel completely defeated— as though you failed miserably at a to-do list that wasn’t even yours to begin with.

Maybe you feel completely at peace with where you have been placed– until you notice the dreamers and doers all around you who seem to have excess time for both dreaming and doing. The internet isn’t much help in this one I’m afraid– even in summertime.

But if the internet in summer is the ocean— I’d choose to be the beach at sunset rather than the cruise ship port. It is okay for us to choose to be where everyone is not for a season.
Because if I’m not out there, it is because my place is in here. When less is what I’m called to, less is better. Less is the quiet path of more.

As I’ve been praying and considering what this season means for me, I’ve written a short manifesto for last few melting days of summer.
Perhaps you need it too?

A Summer Manifesto of Rhythm & Absence

I will breathe in summer and not hold it up against seasons of greater productivity.
I will not scrunch up my nose when I think of all that August will bring; I will open my hands to July and enjoy its’ slower gifts.
I will seek to integrate. I will create when I can, and be happily content with it.
I will smile and not sneer at these days of fluidity and fun.
I will not roll my eyes at the audacity of myself, thinking I could do it all.
I will not stop trying to balance both the good rest and the good work.
I will see the beauty in a period of less and embrace the knowledge that if rest is offered me, rest is where I am most needed.
I will eat popsicles with my children, not always hand them one and use that ten minutes to get something done.
I will stop thinking about what I haven’t accomplished to focus my whole face on their whole face.
I will remember that cultivating an atmosphere of simple fun and joy, means as much as creating a masterpiece.
I will take this break with my whole heart & see it as a gift wrapped in beach towels and tied with a jump rope bow.
I will choose wave skipping and seashell searches over chasing someone else’s goal.
I will stay in my own lane and swim happily in it.
I will remember that though summer is a gift, it is brief– and August is already on its’ way.

Rainshine. (Why hope & grief are not adversaries.)

June 5, 2017 by HappyGoStuckey 7 Comments

Our Georgia summer is hot and steamy but often includes ample rain storms.
Some days they chase us from the pool with thunder and quilted skies. Other days the clouds pour buckets while the sun shines brightly. Yellow light beams down. Drops Fall.
Sun and Rain. Rain and Sun.
This is my favorite variety of storm; the unexpected.

The air is heavy and humid and standing in the rainshine seems completely ridiculous. But for me, it’s an exercise in remembrance. A happy reminder that the sun and rain don’t always step aside for one another. As if the sun missed the part about the rain’s solo— and refuses to wait in the wings.

I need to be reminded of this very thing the rainshine teaches me. Because there was a time not so long ago, that I realized the truth of the “and.” It was some months after I lost a baby. And then again three years later I lost another. In between the two griefs I became someone with a lap completely full. We danced around filling sippy cups and dodging cheerio landmines and there was nothing lacking from our joy.
Nothing at all.
But. There was a tiny piece of pain. Toddler fingers held out weed bouquets and soothed things I couldn’t touch. Still the ache took time to fade into a soft memory. For a long time there was both laughter, and pangs of remembering.

Do you know how it feels to hold both?
Maybe you are now holding both joy and grief in your two uncertain hands.
Or perhaps you swallow lumps of grief— but joy is still on the way.
We know that they often take up residence on the same block. Pain does not always overshadow joy; neither can joy completely squash pain.

The hope that “it will not always be so” is a great one. But even that bright glittering hope, does not remove the ache.
And we can often forget that joy and grief are not enemies.
We expect that if we are strong enough, Christian enough, brave enough— we can elect to feel only the joy and not the pain.
But the essence of our true hope is not that. It is a both/ and hope.
The joy that hopes in what will be — but feels the sting of what is still on the way.

It is a gift. This joy of the both/and. Both hardness and blessing. Both fear and courage. Both happiness that bubbles over in belly-laughs and sobriety that sees evil. Evil that threatens to choke the hope out of us all.

We may be incandescent in our joy. Light may spill from every corner of our day. Or we may have to stand in the pouring rain to look up and find the light. Rarely is it one or the other.
We know so great a hope in Christ and still we will feel the cares of the world. They wind up around our feet as we walk. They snatch and grab at us, like the Devil’s Snare plant in Harry Potter. Devil’s Snare hated the light too, remember? Keeping pain in dark places of shame feeds it.

Friend, might we walk with one another in this?
When we hide our grief, we buy the lie that pain is greater than joy.
We cannot expect ourselves to fully feel one, without some shards of the other.
There is a fulfillment of hope which is still waiting in the wings.

You can grieve. You can grieve right alongside glory.
Acknowledging pain will not remove the joy of what is, and what is to come.
But it has not come fully yet.
And so we wait in the weight of waiting.
And we love greatly and keep our eyes open for hope.
We tip our chins up to the light, even if it means a few raindrops on our cheeks.
We can bravely hold what is too much for us to hold alone.

Because it will not always be both. Someday we will only know the hope that did not disappoint. Not the hope that we got exactly what we wanted; the reality of the hope that was worth waiting well.

The hope that we are promised— we will know He only gave us truth.
And that when we waited, we never waited alone.

What I Learned in the Spring

May 31, 2017 by HappyGoStuckey 2 Comments

“Is the spring coming?” he said. “What is it like?”…

“It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine…”

― Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden

Here we are, already buying sunscreen en masse and shuffling the pool towels from the dryer to the pool bag and then back to the dryer again. I love the splashy, drippy, days of summer.

But before we dive in, let’s pay homage to our spring lessons, both the fun and the semi-serious. I absolutely feel as though we just shared our Winter lessons yesterday. Here’s that list if you missed it.

So here are four things I learned in the Spring–

I have become a plant lady.

I’m not sure why I waited so long to welcome house plants into our life. One day, the Nester had an instagram post about how she waters her plants. It was completely un-fancy and un-complicated and she convinced me I could do it. I finally did and I love my little plant friends. Fingers crossed for continued growth and life. (Bonus tip: HomeGoods is the place for pretty planters.)

Tomato plants should be watered at the soil level and not as much on the leaves.

I definitely did not know this. I always watered from overhead because it makes the leaves look pretty and apparently– the least amount of time the leaves can be wet, the better. Rain water is different, and is preferable to hose water. Who knew? We do enjoy summer tomatoes around here– especially in Caprese Salad. (Bonus Tip: grab a bottle of balsamic glaze for the top of your salad. yum.)

I also learned the magic bullet for keeping cut hydrangeas alive for at least a week!

An Audible narrator can make or break a listening experience, especially for a classic.

Audible is one of our favorite things, both for homeschool and for myself personally. I recently listened to Anne of Green Gables with Rachel McAdams narrating and it was simply fabulous. Then I wanted to continue with Anne of Avonlea but had to do my first ever audible return because the new narration was ruining it for me. The Anne of Avonlea narrator was not my favorite because she made Anne sound petty and whiny.

I also learned this month that I’m a bit sensitive about certain childhood heroines— like, ahem, Anne.

Other examples of great audible narrators: Shauna Niequist (Cold Tangerines,) Lauren Graham (Talking as Fast as I Can,) and of course, the entire Harry Potter audiobook series with Jim Dale (A-Mazing.)

An “I Can Try” mindset is often a good place to begin.

This spring I did two things I have never done before. Both of which, scared me a tiny bit. The first was simple, my friend Cherie asked me to bake an apple pie to highlight her floral design. Sure, I said. I can do that. Then I saw the inspiration pie and freaked out a little. Braided crust, I had never done. I even struggle with braided hair every now and then– but braided crust was completely new to me. But guess what? It turned out just fine. And, her gorgeous blooms covered a multitude of first time evidence.

The second thing was starting my own side-hustle of helping other writers with bits of social media design. I truly enjoy making gorgeous graphics to highlight beautiful words. And bonus, it helps me pay for occasional childcare so I might find a few more fringe hours to write my own words. Introducing, Happy Designs.

So, that’s fun. (And, I have space for a couple more clients this summer. If you need an image refresh on your blog, or have particular posts you would like to highlight better, send me a quick email and we can chat. )

Aren’t new things like that sometimes? A crazy potpourri of “Well, this is fun!” and “I have absolutely no business thinking I can do this.”

I’m starting to think that’s the edge of the good stuff when it comes to art and creativity. We should be slightly scared while chasing the fun. Like those first few rickety bumps up a roller coaster.

What is making you slightly scared in a fun way right now? I’d love to know.

This quarterly chance to share What We Learned with Emily Freeman is high on my list of favorite things. I would truly enjoy hearing what you learned these past few months. Feel free to comment below– or, let’s connect on Instagram.

Weekend Favorites

April 28, 2017 by HappyGoStuckey Leave a Comment

“Cozy + smell of pancakes – alarm clock = weekend” — Amy Krouse Rosenthal

Well we made it again.
Another weekend, hopefully one with a little less of whatever your week needed less of. For me it was the nagging cold that followed me around all week. I’m always thankful for the margin the weekend affords us. Margin to just be a little bit more.

But before we head off to whatever awaits, here are a few weekend favorites I compiled for us. I hope you enjoy them as much as donuts on Saturday morning.

My Favorite Places on the Web this Week:

The Long Myth of Growing Up by Hilary Yancey Hilary is telling her story of course, but in some small way, I felt as though she was telling my own. I truly LOVED this piece about being our parent’s children and growing up.

Little Known Ways to Build a Platform and Protect Your Soul by Margaret Feinberg. I especially valued this lens with which to view the world of working on the internet: “Focus on the abundance and your life will fill with gratitude.”

I have really enjoyed Instagram from the larger screen of my laptop. The pictures are huge and even more vibrant. I may not write here each day, but I’m over there nearly every day. If you’re on Instagram, I’d love to connect with you.

Currently Loving:

This quote from my daughter, Lucy (7)
“You should never criticize your own creation. It’s not cool, Mom.” (My own creation that night was spaghetti, but I think she has a point.)

Himalayan Pink Salt Lamps. Our family has made several years of memories in Blue Ridge, Georgia and the first cabin we ever stayed in had these in the bedrooms. I’ve always wanted to add a few to our own Blue House, but just recently took the plunge. And, apparently– they could have health benefits too– I just thought they were cozy and reminiscent of our Mountain time.

Homemade Bone Broth. I may not be sure about the health benefits of the chunk of pink salt on my dresser, but I do know the benefits of bone broth. This week I made some overnight in the slow cooker and um, wow. The flavor and color is fabulous. We’ve all been a bit sniffly around here lately, so I’m putting this on the repeat list.

On my bedside table:

Notes From a Blue Bike by Tsh Oxenreider
(I have Tsh’s new book, At Home in the World: Reflections on Belonging While Wandering the Globe, which just released last week– and I’m trying so hard to wait until I finish Blue Bike before jumping in. Her writing style is one of lyrical story-telling– which I enjoy.)

Well those are my favorites this week! And, I just realized this is my 500th Blog post. (Gasp.) FIVE HUNDRED?!?!? Granted, the first few, ahem, hundred posts were Wordless Wednesdays and posts filled with pictures of my children and very few words. But still, 500!

However long you’ve been here, I’m so happy you keep coming back. My hope is that you always leave refreshed with a little more hope for your journey, and with an armful of leftovers. XX, Cynthia