Auntie Muriel.

Last week, on Monday August 1, 2016, the Civic Holiday to be exact, my Auntie Muriel passed away in her 88th year.

My parents immigrated to Canada from the U.K. as young adults, met each other, got married and began a family here. We grew up without extended family around us. Although they were from different generations, an unlikely and timely friendship began between my mom and Muriel. They met working together at the Stelco Tower offices and it wasn't long until the lines between friend and family became blurred. Muriel adopted us. All five of us kids. She became our aunt. My youngest sister, Leah is even named after her (Leah Anne, because her name was Anne Muriel). She attended our family birthday dinners, family events, weddings and never missed an occasion to love on us. Not only did she love on us at Christmas and on our birthdays, we also all received Easter, Valentine's Day, and Hallowe'en cards until we were young adults. How can we ever forget those cards with the crisp brand new five dollar bill and the card signed "guess who"? I smile just thinking about them.

She attended my high school graduation and became one of my biggest cheerleaders in my life. She cheered me on in a quiet and yet powerful way. In such a way that I knew she believed in me and was proud of me.

Lots of memories and thoughts come to mind as I think about Auntie Muriel. The one that rises above the rest is that she was a fashion icon to me.

My mom, bless her heart, spent every spare bit of money on us kids and rarely splurged anything for herself, especially items of fashion. She never really wore make up or made fashion a priority. She was a hippie at heart and her life was all about minimalism and simplicity.

Auntie Muriel was pretty much the polar opposite. She bought me my first pair of jeans (Levi's of course). I was about 8 and I remember the black and white full page advertisement in the Hamilton Spectator which was where I had first seen the Levi's. Then one time when I was around 10, my mom, who never had her ears pierced a day in her life, called Auntie Muriel in an utter and complete panic to help me when my newly pierced ears became infected. Oh the drama! She rushed over with her bag of tricks (which looking back I'm pretty sure was just rubbing alcohol and cotton balls) and I'll never forget her words - "Carrie, sometimes it hurts to be beautiful." Somehow just by her saying that, I was given the permission to allow myself to feel beautiful and important. As an impressionable 10 year old girl, I stood a little taller and shone a little brighter that day.

Her hair was always done just so and she never left home without her bright red lipstick on - lipstick which left its mark on your cheek when you embraced. There were many Sundays where my siblings and I walked around church with a red kiss imprinted on our cheeks.

She worked in a jewelry store and a bought me lovely gold jewelry through the years  (each piece was full of thought and meaning) and freshwater pearls (that I still wear to this day).

As I became a teenager, she always bought me something fashionable and on the cutting edge for Christmas and birthdays.

Maybe she sensed that I loved fashion. I'm not sure -  but whatever it was, she called forth in me something that I didn't know was there at the time. Am I ever glad she did. Something about her gave me permission to love and lean into all things fashionable and feminine.

She introduced me to Vogue magazine and passed on her magazines to me when she was finished reading them. I'll never forget how as a young girl, I studied those crisp pages and tried on all of the sample perfumes that she had graciously left unopened and untouched. She opened a whole new world to me.

I love wearing lipstick and think of her when I put it on.

Auntie Muriel made me feel special. I'm forever grateful. She made lots of people feel that way. She just did. She took such an interest in people. Isn't that lovely message to leave as a legacy?

She passed away gracefully and peacefully in her sleep as only she could. As I think about honouring her, I'm going to purchase a Vogue magazine but I think I'll put some lipstick on first. More importantly, I'm on the lookout for someone that I can take an interest in and make them feel special. xo

Front porch people.

We build a house last year and we had so much fun designing it. The cool thing was that we had been married at that time for almost 18 years and had lived in two very different houses. By that time, we knew what we valued and what our family needed. Large bedrooms? Nope. Tons of square footage? Nope. Covered front porch. Yep. 100 %.

We knew instinctively that we are at our core front porch people. Steve and I kept saying throughout the building process, "yep, we're front porch people"

During the craziness of the build, the vision of the front porch kept us focused and mindful of who we wanted to be.

These days, Steve and I are at our best when we're drinking tea, reading, unhurried, chilling out and watching the world go by on our porch. It's reminiscent of who we are when we are camping or on vacation. Porch sitting is our way of connecting. It's our way of relaxing. It's our way of breathing deep.

This summer I have loved I starting and ending my days on our porch. There's something about it the porch that draws me to start and end by days there.

I value and adore rituals. In the darkest days of this past winter, I started my mornings with a ritual - as I packed and brewed my stovetop expresso maker, I would pause and light a candle - lighting the candle in the quiet morning darkness of my kitchen was my simple way of pausing and giving God my yes for that day. Yes to his love and his grace. Yes to his goodness. Yes to his plans for me. It was a ritual that calmed me and centered me. Our front porch has been no different - coffee on the porch in the morning while the kids are sleeping calms me, slows me down and centers me. It reminds me that I'm loved and frees me up to live a life grounded in that love.

Do you have any rituals? A space or a practice that slows you down and centers you?

My season of life is such that I have a nine year old at home and so as much as I love meeting friends for coffee, in the summer it just doesn't work for me. The years are fleeting and I want to be home with Beth as much as possible. This summer, it's been much easier for me to invite a friend to my front porch for coffee rather than meet up with them at a coffee shop. Maybe it's the whimsical rocking chairs that I picked up at the side of the road for free (the ones my Dad sanded and painted poppy red for me) or maybe it's the shelter from the heat of the summer sun - I'm not sure what it is - but there is something about my porch and the intentionality of it all that has created a sacred space where I have had some of the dearest heart-to-heart chats this summer with friends (often involving tears)-  that I'm so glad I didn't miss out on. I'm glad we created the space both literally and figuratively.

I have loved the family time, the friend time, the couple time and the quiet time. I've loved the kind of intentional and spontaneous conversations that the front porch allows and fosters. 

Ultimately, it's not really the porch. In my case, it just happens that the porch has been a way of slowing me down and connecting my heart to what matters most.

What is it for you? What slows you down in the summer months? What centers you and connects you to your true self, to your best self?