The work of my hands

 Remember this, that very little is needed to make a happy life.
Aurelius

Lately, I have been craving connections with the past. With how things used to be done and what used to be reliable. Just the old soul in me, feeling left out in this fast paced, ultra modern, yet ultra disconnected (from authentic people) world of ours. I am sure this also has something to do with this new need I have to discover fresh ways to honor my grandma.

There is this gratifying satisfaction of working with my hands. I have known it for what seems like forever. Cooking and baking have been important to me for years and years.  I get in the zone and relaxed as I whip up yummy meals and sugary desserts. I love mixing, and measuring, and preparing. Cutting, tucking, and frosting are favorites as well. I am a girl who cooks from recipes but always adds in a dash or splash extra. I am a girl who cooks from scratch and believes that you really can't ever completely ruin a meal.

The work of my hands, resulting in food that satisfies, that is an instant recipe for happiness in my book. Simple, but not common anymore is this kind of "old-fashioned" kitchen work ethic.

On another side of the coin, I have started a humble, pallet garden! I already love it. Yeah, I tend to jump right into things. But, really I have been observing my mama garden for years now  (her garden grew and flourished after Mel and I left for college). She is a gentle yet through master of her domain in our backyard and the blossoms that grow for her are absolutely beautiful! I have seen the seasons come and go, so I have a sneak peek into the seasons of gardening. I don't have to fret when the leaves drop off and the green turns to brown. If I stay careful and also let nature do its thing, life and Spring will hopefully bloom again and again in my garden. Can you feel how over the top excited I am?

I also really enjoy when my hands work on hand-written cards and other forms of creativity, such as painting. So far I have 4 Sabrina originals gracing my home. Bringing color and form to a blank canvas relaxes me and stretches my mind in all the right ways. There is a creative gene in me that yearns to show itself. Sometimes I give it full and free reign.

The work of my hands is intimate and personal. It is a connection to my sometimes too soft heart and the things that make it beat. The work of my hands is tactile and life-giving. I am focused on the work of these hands and the difference that they make in my little world.