Chilled.

Posted on January 28, 2014 by Kelly

It’s so very difficult to lurch out of a warm, cozy bed on such a frigid morning as this. I was snug, my pillow was just so, and my blanket hugged me like a long-lost friend. I lay still, eyes closed, in blissful silence, savoring the lullaby of the friendly owls perched in the tree just outside our bedroom window.

The sun is yet sleeping.

The darkness still envelopes.

Yet the day beckons.

And there is coffee to be brewed.

Drink up, Friends. It’s going to be a lovely day.

Love & Coffee!

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Back again.

Posted on January 27, 2014 by Kelly

No… Wait! Don’t leave! Trust me. You are in the right place. Blue Jeans & Coffee Beans has undergone a makeover! I am still tweaking a few things so there may still be some subtle changes over the coming days and weeks.

A few important things to note:

1. If you are an email subscriber to my blog and want to continue receiving updates via email, you may have to re-subscribe. The email subscription box is located just under the About Me section on the top right corner of the Home page.

2. The Recipes page is currently under reconstruction and will be functioning again in the very near future.

3. Please, let me know if you encounter any problems along the way.

It’s lovely to be back. I have so many beautiful things to share.

Love & Coffee.

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A Morning Moment.

Posted on November 12, 2013 by Kelly

Nothing like watching a hazy, autumn sunrise from the window, swallowed up in a well-loved sweater with a steamy coffee settled between my fingers.

I revel in the quiet. But in just moments, this house will spring to life, bursting at the seams with much too much to do in one day.

(Does anyone else ever look at their calendar and just want to cry? And, by the way, where did October go?.)

But for now, for just a moment longer, it’s quiet. And my coffee is still warm. And the house is still sleeping. And I will think on this…

“I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” Phillipians 4.13 (NIV)

Love & Coffee.

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The Old-Fashioned Way.

Posted on September 16, 2013 by Kelly

I sauntered into the kitchen, intent on whipping up a batch of chocolate chip cookies. I sneaked. I was discrete. But I got caught.

“Mommy! I want to help in the kitchen,” Lovey said. She is my helper. She is always there. If I am in the kitchen, she is glued to me. And most days, I don’t mind. I welcome the company and the playful banter of my sweet Lovey. But today, I just wanted… to be. To think, uninterrupted. To ponder, uninhibited.

I tried to dissuade her.

“I’m going to be very boring in here. I am going to do dishes and not even turn on the radio.” (Which was mostly the truth, because I still had a sink chock full of lunch dishes and random containers from my morning fridge-cleaning session.)

She took the bait and decided just this once to go watch Max & Ruby.

But then…

Ladybug appeared in the kitchen doorway. “I want to do dishes.”

Perhaps I had heard wrongly. “I’m sorry, WHAT?”

“I want to do dishes.”

I have this weird control-freak thing, especially when it comes to my kitchen, however, I am trying really, really hard to just let go and let my girlies do more things. Even if they are done the wrong way at first. Freedom to fail, right?

“Ummmm… okay. Well, how about you rinse these off and arrange them in the dishwasher like so.” This was also really hard for me, because I am notoriously particular about how things are arranged in the dishwasher.

“No, Mom. I want to do it the old-fashioned way. You know, I just want to scrub them in the sink.”

“Wouldn’t you rather help me bake cookies?” I urged. (So much for the just being thing.)

“Mom, don’t you just get a great feeling when you do things the old-fashioned way? Like you baking cookies from scratch? Or when you make laundry soap? It’s like you really worked on it and made it special and it feels good, doesn’t it? I just want to do that to the dishes.”

*crickets chirping* (And seriously, there is a random cricket chirping in the far corner of the office as I write.)

“Okaaaayyy. Well, here is the footstool. And the rag. And a little soap. Have at it, Sweet Ladybug.”

Suddenly, she had made perfect sense to me. Because I do get that. I still do all kinds of crazy things like write in a journal, keep a datebook, wear a watch, patch my jeans, and write hand-written thank you notes. There is something inherently sacred in performing a simple task “the old-fashioned way” that seems to connect me to my childhood, my mother, my late grandmothers.

And here I sit, enjoying the morning “the old-fashioned way.” Sunrise and a steamy cup of joe.

Love & Coffee.

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Still here.

Posted on September 2, 2013 by Kelly

Really, I am.

We started school.

(And I cried only a little.)

I have been nursing a concussion.

(Please, don’t ask. It’s terribly embarrassing. And no one even caught it on video so I could win some cash on AFV. Boo.)

And we said goodbye to summer as we returned from a Labor Day road trip.

(Which will NOT be happening again anytime soon. If Google Maps says it will take 5 hours, it will inevitably take us EIGHT.)

But fall is approaching. And lovely things are happening outside. And sweet, delicious coffee is brewing along with wonderful things in my head that I need to write about.

So many good things are coming…

Love & Coffee.

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Is this real life?

Posted on August 5, 2013 by Kelly

Yes. Yes, it is.

This. Is. My. Life.

It was a lovely evening, just 5 short nights ago. Eleven ‘o clock was fast approaching. The evening news faded and my eyes were weighted with the heaviness that comes from a much-lived day. That’s when I heard it. The pitter-pat on the stairs. (I thought they were all long fast asleep.)

It was Lovey. Her eyes welling with tears. “There’s a bee in my nose!” What??? “There’s a bee in my nose and it really hurts!” Again… what??? I assumed she meant a wasp, because just the day prior, I had bested a nasty one by means of a corn-husk broom and a Hello Kitty flip-flop. But still… could it really have stung her in the nose?

The Man was there. He asked her one more time. “What is the meaning of this?”

“There. Is. A. BEAD. In. My. Nose. And. It. HURTS!!! Waaaaaahhhhh!!!” Tears were flowing freely by this point. Good grief. *sigh* I think I would have much preferred the bee/wasp scenario. I have heard of kids doing such things and honestly, considering the nature of my sweet Lovey, I should count my blessings that we haven’t dealt with this sooner. Keeping my full-on panic at bay, I told The Man we have to take her in. There was no other way.

The Man was not happy. The Man glared. The Man disappeared. The Man reappeared. With a flash light. Lovey howled as he inspected the damage. “It’s past the sellion,” The Man declared. (Yes. I had to spell check that word. Several times. And bonus points to the The Man for using it properly in a sentence.)

Okay… pretty sure I didn’t know what a sellion was, but I still voted for the ER.

“I am not driving into town at 11:00 pm. There IS another way,” declared The Man. Spoken like a man who had labored all the live-long day and was dying to go play a video game. All the while, Lovey is crying her ornery little heart out.

The Man was not happy. The Man scowled. The Man disappeared (longer this time.) The Man reappeared. But not empty-handed. Oh no. He wielded a most frightening contraption beginning with a disassembled balloon pump and ending with my vacuum cleaner.

Full-on panic was no longer at bay. I couldn’t watch.

“You’re going to suck her brains out!!!” I cried.

“I promise not to suck her brains out,” he mumbled.

I retreated to the other room for the “procedure.” The deafening sounds hearkened me back to a time when I was barely 16 and my hard contact lens was running amok on my eyeball. The darn thing was suctioned to my eye with a death grip and I was at a loss. My dad emerged with vacuum specialty of his own, only his version involved panty hose and a rubber band. “Please don’t suck my eye ball out!” I cried. “I won’t suck your eyeball out,” he mumbled. But I digress…

Moments later, the gangly pair emerged. Brains intact. Bead in hand.

The Man played his game. Lovey and I cuddled on the couch. And all was right with the world.

I’m not sure there’s a moral to this story other than the fact that I have men in my life who do strange and sometimes helpful things with a vacuum.

Thank God for coffee.

The offender.

Love & Coffee.

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How Does Your Garden Grow?

Posted on July 15, 2013 by Kelly

Not very well, I’m afraid. Not very well at all.

You could call this an excuse, but birthing a baby just before planting season didn’t help matters much. I have a bucket full of seed packets that I fully intended to get in the ground. It’s mid-July, and the bucket is still sitting in the utility room. I did manage to put in some lively red begonias in one of the large planters near the entryway. My newly transplanted hastas are barely surviving… I think they may just need water. I’m so bad at this! I could have taken pictures, but honestly I am embarrassed. I will spare you the agony.

(But if you are desperate to see some of my past “handiwork” you can click here: Greenthumbery.)

Ladybug says we have nothing. The chickens are dead. Our dog is dead. And the tomatoes are on their way out. (I am really bad at remembering to water things.)

Homesteading is hard. And there have been some wonderful life lessons learned here in recent months. I hope my little lovies will remember the time we didn’t give up and eventually made it work.

On the lighter side, we have loads of mulberries this year… more than we could ever dream to pick ourselves. They are beautifully sweet and devilishly messy. I made the mistake of taking the girls out picking, leaving Lovey in a white shirt. (I never cared for that shirt much anyway…) I think they ate at least twice as many as made it into the bucket. Our freezer is nearly brimming with berries and we have only scratched the surface. I have dreams of pies, cobblers, and sauces.

Caught red-handed.

Briefly distracted to catch butterflies.


Big helper.

Our hearts are still healing. We really miss Holly. But they are so many great things ahead. I am so thankful we get to call this place home.

Love & Coffee.

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And then she was gone.

Posted on July 6, 2013 by Kelly

I don’t want to write this. I don’t want to think about this. I. Just. Don’t.

Holly von H. is gone. It hurts so much to type those words.
Yesterday was easily one of the most horribly terrible days of our lives. The day started out so well. We were coming off a lazy 4th of July, still high on sparklers and the smell of gunpowder.

It happened in mere seconds. Seconds, I tell you. And life was suddenly different.

She always had a fascination with wheels, be it a stroller, a wheel barrow or… a passing car. *sigh*

It happened in front of the house, right by the mailbox. I cannot begin to tell you the mass hysteria that ensued. The lady driver was visibly upset, as well as her young son who accompanied her. The Man was running to her and sobbing. I ran inside to shelter my girls, but it was too late. Cupcake was napping, while the other girls held each other tightly, hysterically looking on through the bay window.

The Man cradled her in the road as she passed. I held her lifeless body soon after, bathing her in tears, and telling her how sorry I was. There are so many disturbing images from yesterday that I wish could un-see.

This. Hurts.

The woman turned out to be a neighbor from down the road whom we hadn’t before met. Her husband came soon after to offer his help in burying her. The woman came again even later to bring flowers. I assure you this is not the way we wanted to meet our neighbors, but I am grateful we have good people living close by. They were so kind.

One second she was pawing at the front door and the next she was gone. There is much sadness in this house. The homestead feels so empty without her. She was our first family dog. We waited so long for her. I find some sort of patriotic irony in the fact that she was born on 9/11 and passed the morning after Independence Day.

Ladybug whimpered through tears, “You told me I would have her until I was at least 16!” Lovey said, “But God’s still alive. He’s in my heart and my heart is not broken.” Peanut just buried herself in the couch pillows and cried.

And The Man is a mess. And so am I. I loved Holly. And him even more so. No one ever told me it would be this hard. I am not even an animal lover by nature, but I love the life that God created. And Holly was special. And she was ours. And I miss her. And even coffee can’t fix that.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted
and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

Psalm 34.18 (NIV)

Rest in peace, Sweet Holly.

To read more about our sweet Holly von H.: A Boy and His Dog.

Love & Coffee.

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No nukes…

Posted on July 1, 2013 by Kelly

is good nukes???

No, this isn’t a political statement… but a family experiment of sorts.

I ditched the microwave. I thought we were ready. I thought it was time. And I’m driving everyone crazy! But it is gone, gone, gone.

Sort of.

There is plenty of good material/research on the negative effects microwaves have on our food. This is not one of them. As a family, we decided some time ago to reduce our use of the microwave as much as possible for a lot of reasons. Aside from the obvious health concerns, zapping perfectly good leftovers until they resembled barely recognizable, chewy, leathery fare didn’t seem to mesh with the simple, homestead-y life we are aspiring to out here.

So the microwave… it’s been banished to the utility room to co-exist amongst other appliances such as the washing machine and dryer. Currently it resides on the floor until I can decide on it’s permanent home. (Or until I can clear off the laundry counter and make room for it!) I will probably still use it to heat water on occasion and for warming rice pillows (to toast cold little toes in the winter).

Besides. I really needed the counter space.

How true it is… you don’t realize how much you really use something until it’s gone. I was under the impression that we were truly already living without it. Until I didn’t have it.

Day one didn’t go quite like I expected it to. Things were going along quite swimmingly until around 10:00 am. This is the time when the morning coffee has often gone cold. And I usually sneak a cup into the micro for a quick warm-up. No such luck! Okay… so I pour my cold coffee into a small saucepan to heat on the stove. No problem, really. Perfect in no time at all. Swish out the pan and I’m good.

Noon. Lunch. The kids want leftover spaghetti. Oy. Is it sad that I have practically never re-warmed anything in my entire life on the stove? Correction: NEVER re-warmed anything on the stove? I dump the spaghetti into the pot, adding a little water to keep it moist, cover, and heat over medium until it’s hot. Five minutes. Not bad! I could get used to that.

Then dinner. Shoot! I have not one bit of thawed meat. No chicken. No beef. No nothing.

And it’s 5:00 pm.

I called The Man and asked him to pick up a pizza on his way home from the office. Epic. Fail.

I don’t regret it, but it is definitely something new to get used to. I’m positive there will be more to come on this topic, but until then…

Love & coffee.

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A Boy and His Dog.

Posted on June 30, 2013 by Kelly

Her name is Holly von H and she’s quite possibly the sweetest Rottweiler in the history of ever.

However…

The Man did not tell me. Supposedly he was at the office. On a Saturday. And it wouldn’t take long. (Ha!)

I called to see what the hold up was. “Work. Lots and lots of work.”

Suspicion.

Hours later… (lots of hours later), The Man arrives home with a puppy. A very large, 7 month old Rottweiler puppy. Nevermind the fact that we had a weeks-old infant in the house at the time. The girls were in love. Me? Less so. I don’t think I have ever been (or ever will be) an animal person. I prefer to appreciate them from a distance. But Holly…

She was so very excited. She peed on my rug. She peed on my foot. And she peed on my kitchen floor. Twice.

The next morning, I awoke to a sloppy, wet, UN-human kiss all over my face. I could barely breathe beneath all crushing 70 lbs of her. I didn’t want this to ever happen again.

I. Don’t. Do. Animals. At least not this up close and personal.

But The Man is crazy about her. And she loves him, too.

3 months later. Holly and I are becoming friends. Even though she buried my socks in the neighboring field. And wiped her muddy paws all over my freshly washed white comforter. And rolled in critter poo before our evening cuddles.

Holly von H, you are a keeper.

Love & coffee.

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