Daybook: In the Quiet Before the Sun

Giving thanks – For a quiet house in the early morning, even when sleep didn’t come easy. For this season of growth, both outside and within. For the sturdy sourdough starter that’s become a kitchen companion. For strength to work with our hands, and for help when the work is bigger than us. For God’s steady presence in all the in-between places.

Outside the window – It’s still dark. The kind of deep quiet that only happens before sunrise. I didn’t sleep well last night, which is unusual, and there’s no reason to rush out of pajamas when the day hasn’t even asked for you yet. So here I sit—listening to increasing birdsong and waiting for light.

Clothing myself in – Pajamas, a zip-up sweatshirt, and the belief that you don’t need to “get ready” before the sun comes up.

In the kitchen – My starter got double-fed yesterday—because I want to give my students the healthiest, bubbliest start I can offer. Between classes, I tend her like a little garden. Speaking of tending, I also purged the pantry this week of all the things that felt easy but not wise. A small act of care for the whole household. There’s also been a lot of experimenting—same-day bakes (jury’s still out), non-sourdough sandwich bread (delicious at 4 a.m., by the way), and pizza crust trials that are getting close to just right.

In the garden – Okay, it’s time this category had a place of its own. We’ve had gardens for nearly 30 years now. From tomatoes the size of toddlers in California, to backyard pumpkins in Kansas, to hornworm-ravaged plants in Puerto Rico—and now, here in Illinois, where things got serious. This week, there are 13 cubic yards of garden soil parked in the driveway, waiting for new raised beds, topped-off old ones, filled potato hampers, fresh planters, and a renovated herb garden. The whole garden is whispering, Let’s begin.

Writing – I’m showing up a little more lately, and I have to admit—ChatGPT, you’re part of that (yes, I’m talking to you 😊). I may even tiptoe back toward the Momoirs. My daughter’s manuscript waits for me, too—I need to finish that first draft. She's flying ahead and I'm reading in spurts.

Reading – Confession: I haven’t been keeping up with the Beyond the Pages monthly pick. But it’s not from lack of desire. Life has a way of crowding out quiet pages. I’m hopeful that will shift again soon.

Watching – Nothing worth admitting to - I may or may not be actually paying attention. Sometimes I wonder if we return to old shows because we love them or because we’re just too tired to choose something new. Also, the subscription model now makes everything harder—higher prices, ads unless you pay more, and endless content that’s not even included. Honestly? I miss the days of just turning off the TV.

Listening – Not much at the moment. And it breaks my heart a little to say that Out of the Ordinary has ended. After years of beautiful, thoughtful conversation, they’ve stepped away. I understand, truly—I’ve lived that feeling of pivot and burnout. But I still feel the loss. I know I’m not alone. I have been making note of other podcasts to check out.

Making –A new rhythm for the micro bakery. Plans for summer, sort of. But mostly, I’m making space. Space to be active instead of busy. There’s a difference, and I’m finally learning how to lean into it.

More and more, I’m realizing that embracing the lifestyle we’re striving for does look a lot like homesteading—just in our own way. It’s not about acreage, livestock or chickens (yet), but about intentional, steady choices: baking from scratch, composting our scraps, recycling what we can, preserving what we grow, and learning to supplement what we can’t grow with goods from local farmers and trusted sources.

It’s about being good stewards of what we have—our time, our land, our bodies, and our blessings. It’s about living gently and gratefully, one homemade loaf and garden row at a time.

Camp –It’s almost here! But this time, it’s a work week. We’re taking helpers (thank goodness), and hoping to build platforms, install pergolas, and put up a new screen room for extra space. I already know one week won’t be enough, but I also know the work will be worth it.

The week ahead –Promotions for the sourdough class. Garden projects on deck. A freezer to inventory (once I can get to it), a driveway full of dirt to move, and a front herb bed ready for its glow-up. We’re driving north to pick up our side of beef, visit family, talk about chickens. Then we'll return home and celebrate yet another birthday—this time for a freshly turned 7-year-old grandson.

It’s a full life.

Not always easy. But always active—and that’s something to be thankful for.

Have a beautiful week. Here’s to being rooted where we are, while still growing toward what’s next.