Silver Stars

comments: 99



































It is unexpectedly (at least to me) pouring rain as I write this morning, and so dark in the house I can hardly see. Oh, sweet mercies!!! I'm sitting in the studio, looking out into the garden, which, in spite of being sopping wet, still seems parched and yellow with defeat, my potted plants a sallow tangle on the steps. More than any particular date on the calendar, summer seems to turn from waxing to waning when the blossoms are spent and the soil runs just a bit too dry in my container plants, when I've missed one-too-many too-hot days of watering, when things go from lush to lank and I stand dumbly by, too air-conditioned and mommy-fried to make a move to rescue. It's a shame, really, this particular fulcrum up and over which I never quite seem to get, this see-saw that only sits, end planted in the dusty grass, me heavy upon it, praying for rain. Mid-July and me, both, stuck in the inertia of white-hot air. This morning — Hallelujah! — I get my wish, and wake to the sound of silver showers plinking and tapping, a cool breeze teasing my white curtains, Mimi in the bed between us, signing rain and wind. Ah, all my joys, all here, all here.

Our weekend was short and sweet (and hot). We got lots and lots of berries, explored a historic farm, stopped at the river, went to the pool, walked downtown. I made more fish, following Molly's lead in making stone-fruit salsa (I used peaches and a mango) and whipped cream for all of the sweetest-ever raspberries (I didn't know they could ever be that sweet actually — the sweetest I've ever had). We've eaten bags of Rainier cherries, boxes of blackberries and blue. This is the wonder of July, for me. The berries are insane. It takes only a minute to whip the cream and there you go, best treat ever.

Our girl glows like a peach, looking more and more like her gorgeous birthmama every day, her expressions and her sly humor and her independence blossoming like a summer flower. Her confidence, her seriousness, her curiosity, her kisses, and, more than anything, her loving sweetness, her gentle touch, patting her dolly's back, kissing her dolly, every toy, in fact, the cars and the books and the cups, patting my back, running the tippy-tips of her fingers lightly on my cheek, looking at me with her sparkling navy-blue eyes and her half-smile. Her burgeoning independence fascinates and delights me. She's quietly mischievous and blatantly (and hilariously) honest, alerting me to the fact that she's standing, belly-out, on the sofa, touching the hanging pendant lamp (no-no),  holding the clicker (no-no), eyes always sparkling, daring me to see her though I'm sitting right there, and see her just fine. "Mommy?" Eyes wide. Touch touch, pendant lamp swings. Aw, no-no, baby I say with my "you know this" voice. "No-no," she mimics, signing no twice and raising eyebrows as if it were I who touched the lamp, dumped the mail, turned on the TV. When I got my new glasses she'd come toward me on the bed with such a look of love in her sparkly eyes, getting closer and closer, I'd be smiling hugely back, flattered, thrilled, then whoosh — she'd grab the glasses right off my face in a flash, with a smile. She brings me all the things she's not supposed to have: a rock in the house, a quarter, my wallet, a pencil. "Mommy?" Holding them out to me. Andy and I think she's very tongue-in-cheek in her photos, a little bit dramatic, a little ironic. I scoop her off the sofa and tip her backwards, bury my face in her belly as she laughs. Later, as she starts to nap, I strum the tender inside of her elbow and she answers with a milky chortle, and gently strokes the back of my hand with her fingertips. Our call and response. Every day she is unfolding. I watch and marvel, hardly able to speak, squeezing my lips to the back of her soft arm. This incredible person. This privilege. My stars, my stars. My cup runneth over. My heart overflows.


I just love her Alicia..
I do I many precious pics of here here..The water one..up in the air..offering leaves..
On daddy's shoulder.
All your phtos speak to me..but that girl♥ well..

You perfectly celebrated the moments through your photos and words, Alicia, and drew me right into your celebration and gratitude. Thank you. Wishing you and yours continued joy!

oh, i absolutely adore that baby girl of yours!

If only every child was loved that much and if every person had the capacity to love as much as you do, this whole world would be in a constant state of euphoria. Thanks for the reminder that there ARE angels here on earth.

Ah, I always though Mimi had the look of one who seeks out her boundaries to test them. That is a very good thing in a person even if it gets "interesting" when she is growing up.

The berries! Every year I'm afraid I'm not taking advantage of them enough. I love them so much. Your crepes made me think that I need to get a crepe maker finally so that I can gorge on berry crepes every day.

If you ever make it over the fulcrum, please let the rest of us know how to do so. Especially those of us with kids!

Awwwww. You three are gifts for each other. so much love and so much fun. It's the fun and laughing that is the absolute bonus, eh? Any post that has berries and beehives has to be great and this fulfils its promise. Amelia suits her little minty dress. These are great colours on her. And I have meant to comment on earlier posts, I am enjoying your plates, the 1970s ironstone ones, as in the 12th image here. I picked up 2 at thrift stores a couple of years back and they give me pleasure to eat my toast off their strawberries and daisies.

Kristen from MA says: July 22, 2014 at 12:10 PM

Yet another example of reading your words and ending up all teary, but in a good way. Always in a good way. :)

Chase those chooks, lovely girl!
You are so right about that fulcrum. My potted pansies look leggy and bedraggled. Bloomless after giving up the gusto and so quick to wilt when I don't get out there with the hose often enough. I didn't know what that strange sound was this morning. So happy for the burst of rain.

Laura F. says: July 22, 2014 at 12:18 PM

I am always so moved by reading your descriptions of the emotional experience of loving a child and watching her grow. I have a precious 3-year-old boy of my own, and I know just of what you speak. Tender times, these.

Tears, tears, tears. Your words are so sweet and so touching. You always remind me to stop and savour every moment of my son's growing up. To treasure his sweet little toddler spirit. I say it every time I'm moved by your words. What you have is truly special, It's a wonderful thing to see you relishing in it. Hugs to you and yours from up north!

Being so in-tune, and aware of this time in your life is a gift
that will never fail to make you glad. I'm sure plenty of people have
warned that 'this time is fleeting'... nothing to be done for that, but you
are living these days with such gratitude and joy, and I think it's the secret to
honoring children, and making the most of this fleeting time. Never mind the
daisies... they'll come again.

Also: Those fruits, chickens, skies, smiles, cheeks, fish tacos, and splashes!
Oh-my. I want *Posy Tinted Glasses,* so my days will look as rosy!

I agree with everything Natalie said! I love how grateful you are for the life you have. We could all learn from you, Alicia. I always stop and count my blessings after I read your blog... thank you for the reminder!

Every time I read you blog I always hate for it to end. You have such a way with words. Please oh please write a book!

What a wonderful tribute to motherhood. You have filled me with awe for the wonder you are inspiring in that little beauty.

Alicia, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for reminding me of the precious times with my children when they were young. Oh the sweetness! And lucky, lucky little Mimi.

And our hearts overflow with yours!!!

Jan Richards says: July 22, 2014 at 01:41 PM

I am in tears again after reading your blog and enjoying your wonderful photography....they are tears of joy for you three.
My girls are grown with kids of their own and like many others
enjoy remembering their youth. Wish I could have appreciated
them the way you are doing at this time. Keep up the great way
you are enjoying these days, for they are very precious indeed.
I love the idea of a book with your photography. Know you are a
busy mom with more important things to do these days.

Susan from Tsawwassen says: July 22, 2014 at 01:42 PM

OMGosh, you did it again. Tears in my eyes. The sweetness of your words and pictures ... and the berries (lol)!

I normally merely lurk, reading each and every post with a smile on my face, but today with those beautiful words you shared about your baby girl; ugh, I just had to say thank you for this incredible journey you're sharing with us. I read the very first post when you introduced her to us and everything in between, and all I can say is, she was made for you this child and you so deserve her and every joy she brings. Truly beautiful. God bless.

SO BEAUTIFUL--all of it!

Alicia - I don't need to read your words because your photos speak so lovingly and loudly about your blessings. But, your words, they melt my heart. You have such a beautiful way. I feel so honored that you allow me to see into your full heart and cozy home (which I've been following for years.) Thank you. -Patty

I adore the photo of her drinking from the cup -- she sounds like a pistol! When our godson was born, we got him a onesie that read My Name is No No. Still makes me laugh. 💗

Verify your Comment

Previewing your Comment

This is only a preview. Your comment has not yet been posted.

Your comment could not be posted. Error type:
Your comment has been posted. Post another comment

The letters and numbers you entered did not match the image. Please try again.

As a final step before posting your comment, enter the letters and numbers you see in the image below. This prevents automated programs from posting comments.

Having trouble reading this image? View an alternate.


post a comment

About Alicia Paulson


My name is Alicia Paulson
and I love to make things. I live with my husband and daughter in Portland, Oregon, and design sewing, embroidery, knitting, and crochet patterns. See more about me at




Since August of 2011 I've been using a Canon EOS 60D with an EF 18-200mm kit lens and an EF 100mm f/2.8 Macro lens.