P&SFeb2021999GIFT

.........................................................6 .......................................................24 ............................................................26 ............................................................36 .......................................................42 Click on the section to jump to it

Elrena Evans

Happy Anniversary, Paper&String!

O

ne year ago today, Paper&String made its way into the world for the very first time. After the whirlwind months of initial creation—we came up with the idea in October and debuted in February—we watched our little care package take flight.

We had no idea what was in store for us or for Paper&String, but I remember the anticipation, the excitement, the joy of bringing a bit of our hearts to you as we invited you to read, listen, taste, grow, and gather with us.

Yet what I remember most from those early days of Paper&String—the dreaming, the planning, the launching into the world— was just being together. Yes, we met up over Zoom (and Voxer and Basecamp and

Google Docs—I mean, some of us live in Canada!) but when we were able, we crafted Paper&String together. In kitchens and in living rooms and—memorably—on a long walk on the beach, we were creating, and we were creating together.

When I think back to that time, a year ago, I think of a line from a Walt Whitman poem: “We were together—all else has long been forgotten.”

I miss being together.

When Paper&String first launched we anticipated gatherings in the Black Barn, times where readers of Paper&String could come share a meal or a song or a poetry reading or simply a moment of joy. Of course, those offerings never came into existence. I still hold out hope that someday,

the Black Barn will ring again with the sound of laughter echoing up to the rafters and beyond… but in the meantime, I’m more than grateful for our Black Barn Online, a virtual space where all are welcome to join us in quiet weekly rhythms of listening, sharing, and celebrating.

And speaking of celebrating, in this our anniversary issue of Paper&String, we are celebrating! We’ve put together what we hope will be a smorgasbord of delights for you, drawing from both our first year together and new

offerings, as well. Anna takes us on a glorious hike through Ireland and Scotland, with pictures from the “before times” that are a balm to our pandemic-sequestered souls. Jonna offers us a spiritual practice on imaginative prayer. The Paper&String team share a few of their favorite things from our first year. And we feature our readers’ favorite recipes, a collection of culinary offerings sure to enchant the senses.

We were together—all else has long been forgotten. In anticipation of the day when we can be together again….

with ANNA GRIST

When I Don’t See The Nurture in Nature

T

he doldrums.

Monotonous.

Monotone, even.

These are words that flash in my mind when I look forward to February. But really, isn’t that exactly what we need?

A little more… precedented times, eh? The slowness of winter seems even slower in February and March, when stillness reigns and monochrome meets the eye.

We enjoy Canadian Family Day, and Valentine’s Day, both more serene and understated than most yearly celebrations, marked by relaxation, a week off school for the kids, and semi-hibernation thanks to our seasonal temperatures diving into the -20°C, -30°C and even sometimes -40°C on occasion. After a year of a slow pace for my body yet a frenetic pace for my heart and mind, I’m ready, even joyfully anticipating, this month of anonymous days.

I’m reminded that God speaks in a still, small voice. And I can’t always hear that voice while I’m celebrating. I can’t hear it when I’m consumed by a festive to-do list or a series of resolutions for a new year. I can only hear it when I’m surrendered and in one place. Be still and know…

I’m learning much about acedia in these pre2021 months—a term which, loosely defined, is that feeling of listlessness and slowness and overwhelm that can hit you unawares and make doing even the most mundane tasks seem insurmountable and pointless.

I’m learning how to recognize when my “be still” is not from a desire to be with God, but from a desire to drown out all He would call me to, numb to what is going on around me.

Instead of carrying my burdens to Him, I lay down underneath them and don’t budge an inch while they suffocate me slowly.

A paralyzing surrender instead of one that brings freedom.

A good indication of where my heart is at is how I view a walk or drive into creation nearby. If even that seems like a chore and not a welcome respite, I know I’m leaning into acedia, not rest.

Nature as barometer is an accurate gauge of my inner life’s measure of health.

In light of that temptation, I will be aware of how I “guard my mind and heart in Jesus,” and “bring every thought captive to obey the gospel of Christ”—so that I know which ones to place in God’s hands and which ones to ponder in my heart.

I want seasons of rest to be just that: not excuses to schlump into an ether of mental escape, but spaces God creates in time for me to take His yoke of learning upon me and sit with Him in quiet relationship and peace.

I’ve spent years raving to friends about the books, shows, and films I love and why. They don’t have to be recent to catch my eye.

They only have to be a new way to see the old, old story of light vs. dark.

This never fails to move me.

While not every review will be for every person, my hope is that these move you too.

The Biggest Little Farm Where You Can Find It: Hulu, Amazon, your local library Rating: G Watch the trailer here What You Need To Know: Start your new year with a story of miracle and wonder. Follow two dreamers who made a promise to their dog that had them trading in their tiny LA apartment for a sprawling farm, to attempt the impossible: living, farming and documenting a life in harmony with nature. Molly was a private chef and food blogger. John was a cameraman.

Neither had any experience farming, unless growing tomatoes on the balcony counts. And they launched a decade-long experiment to build one of the most diverse farms of its kind, in complete coexistence with nature.

T

he first things you should know about me are that I’m not a great cook, I have zero green thumbs, and I don’t watch documentaries for fun.

But this farming-and-cooking documentary of two people with a couple of dogs who followed their curiosity and convictions to a farm of 10,000 fruit trees, the biggest mama pig you’ve ever seen, and a rooster named Greasy caught me right in my ribcage with a riot of emotions—hope being the most overwhelming.

You won’t know how much you need this story until you’re crying over the solution to the aphids on the fruit trees. My ten-year-old son had seen the trailer to The Biggest Little Farm and insisted we watch it with him. I was skeptical. Then I was entranced. Then I was glued to my seat. And one by one each member of our family who happened to pass through the living room as we were watching was pulled into the orbit of this story.

Because if there’s anything we can relate to these days, it’s the courage to keep trying again in the face of setbacks, insecurity, wild doubts, and

financial fears. And this film gently takes your chin and raises your face to the heavens and whispers in the back of your mind: I lift up my eyes to the hills.

From where does my help come?

My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth.

Psalm 121:1-2. (ESV).

“You won’t know how much you need this story until you’re crying over the solution to the aphids on the fruit trees.”

The dream of the farm is only realized through the grace (and fundraising) of friends and family. And it pulls into its orbit dreamers and tree doctors, animals and camera crews, until we are all rooting for it to make financial sense

for its family as if it were our own. So that a decade into the experiment, when the ecosystem they’ve nurtured begins to flourish and then is threatened by one wild turn after another,

“Now, on this little farm there are up to nine billion microorganisms churning away at decaying life forms. Purpose-driven-organisms.

Alchemizing death to life in just one clump of healthy soil.”

we, along with John and Molly, begin to see God’s creation through new eyes, with new understanding. And we are offered the invitation to understand our own place in God’s world in a whole new way.

Come and enjoy this staggering peek into fruit basket farming, wild bees, baby chicks, sheep, ducks, piglets, coyotes, gophers, peaches, and a team of people who believe in each other and a kind of farming in which you can’t help but hear the echoes of Eden. Documented by the people living the story, this is an insider’s look at the life of a farmer-dreamer. A glimpse into the inter-connected beauty of God’s creation and the people he created it for.

There is life, life in abundance, in this story. And for all of us still shaking off the claustrophobia of 2020, this film is a great gulp of fresh air, fresh faith and fresh vision. Circle up the family wagons and settle in for an hour and a half of soul food that might just inspire you to do something this spring with whatever patch of dirt you have outside your own front door!

Our Own Spotify Profile!

A

nnouncing... the Paper&String profile on Spotify! Now, all of your favorite playlists from Paper&String are here in one place.

Click here to visit our profile on Spotify

A Year of Reader’s Favorites From our first year of Paper&String!

Grandma Simpson’s Pumpkin Bread

by Amy Knorr

I made Amy’s pumpkin bread with a few simple modifications, due to having celiac and also having nut allergies. I started by making a batch of muffins, so I could freeze some, but still had enough batter, so also made a loaf of bread! - Elizabeth Wine

Milk Tart

by Lisa-Jo Baker

“We had to try Lisa-Jo’s special family recipe and it was a big hit!

The crust is like a cookie and the custard sooo creamy and delicious!

Our family has a special sabbath dinner every Saturday evening and we made it for that.

Our Weston I think loved it the best so here he is posing with the last few pieces of the last pie.”

- Kristi Rassi

“...My husband loved it! I enjoyed knowing it’s a South African treat. Thanks for sharing the recipe.”

- Diane Mann

“I tried the Milk tart recipe on the first of May, right when P&S came out! ( I didn’t have the right size baking pans.... so I did one big one.) We all liked the cake!”

- Damaris Bennett

Coconut Curried Sweet Potato Soup with Ginger

By Patrice Gopo

“I added cinnamon. It was great!” - Christine Hoek

Homemade Pizza

By Jon Purifoy

My hubby was inspired by Jonathan’s pizza and made us a flat bread with peaches, mozzarella, thin strips of prosciutto, basil from our garden and a balsamic glaze. Thank you Jonathan, it was scrumptious!

- Donna Policastro

Cucumber Dill Sandwichs

By Amy Hinman

I enjoyed making and photographing my Cucumber Dill Sandwiches!! Such a delicious recipe, Amy Hinman - love the fresh dill, so thank you! I had fun doing a mini photo shoot and in one of my pictures I included an amber antique water glass similar to the set my mom had when I was a child.

- Jodi Grubbs

Bundt Pan Stuffing

By Christie Purifoy

The stuffing “cake” came out great! Such a pretty presentation! Thanks for the Taste of Paper & String Nov... it’s a decoration you can eat!

- Anne Boone

S’mores Trifle

By Anna Grist

I was delighted to make the S’more trifle for my daughter-in-law’s birthday. My family was equally delighted to devour it!

Thanks for the yummy and fun recipe.

- Diane Mann

with CHRISTIE PURIFOY

T

he seeds I ordered in January have begun to show up in my mailbox. They arrive in little paper packets bundled together in twos and threes. A rubber band holds marigolds and cosmos with my favorite variety of kale. A lettuce seed mixture shows up alongside a new variety of zinnia. Occasionally a dozen or more will land at once, all jumbled together in a padded, yellow mailer: a hodgepodge of everything from dill to radish to snapdragon. It is as if I hold the harvest of three seasons in one hand.

My favorite seed packets feature old-fashioned illustrations. Pen-and-ink drawings and pastel watercolor images lend a hazy, nostalgic glow to my dreams of spring. I am less enamored of seed packets featuring stark photographs taken, it seems, under a bright noonday sun. I suppose they are meant to help a gardener know exactly what she will be getting from her garden, but I find them almost too real.

There is something about a full-color, brightly lit photograph that brings to mind some of the harsher realities of my summer garden: bug-eaten leaves, soft spots on the tomatoes, and—always—weeds.

In winter, while I dream of the next growing season, I do not like to remember insects, weeds, and rot. They will bring discouragement in their own time. Why let them invade my hopes prematurely? While that may sound like a childish, Pollyanna approach to life, I have found it to be the only wise way to garden.

Gardening requires effort. There is no such thing as a no-maintenance garden. It is called garden-ing for a reason. I must rest well in winter if I am to persevere in the work of a garden come summer.

And beauty is restorative: I nurture my winter rest with the prettiest gardening books, the most inspiring catalogs, and, yes, these many seed packets with their dreamy, weed-free illustrations.

That is one of the great gifts of art. Whether it is a seed packet washed with watercolor, one of Beatrix Potter’s books for children, (I am always inspired by Mr. McGregor’s potted geraniums!) or even one of my own photographs taken during those magical sunset minutes known as the “golden hour,” art is sometimes less realistic and thus more truthful. Because the ultimate truth of a garden? It isn’t found in weeds or bugs or disease. Those are real things, certainly.

Yet, they can never be as true as the beauty of a just-opened rose. Or the goodness of a sweet, pink radish I grew myself from a seed I ordered in January, kept close in February, and planted outside on the first warm day in March.

To download this printable page, click here!

We were together—all else has long been forgotten by me.

- Walt Whitman

Imaginative Prayer

By Jonna Fantz

W

e often think of imagination as a child’s tool. But are we not called to have a childlike faith? What if, in using our imagination to really pay attention to the old, old stories, we could actually experience the action and emotion? What if our imagination is actually a door to the things that are truer than real? What if it is the imagination that creates the Holy Spirit-fired link between the ancient text and our modern lives?

Click above OR here to view the video

Click to download the accompanying PDF which includes:

• Practice Preparation & Materials • An Invitation to Practice

Tell Me One of Your Favorite Things From Our First Year of Paper&String...

T

o pick my favorite thing from the first year of Paper&String seems an impossible task! I have found so much richness in these monthly care packages. I think a favorite moment is turning to the photos of readers trying and

enjoying recipes from the past issue. It is such a reminder that this care package meets so many different people right where they are. As I look at the joy on the faces of happy tastetesters and the beauty of a stunningly-plated slice of deliciousness (orange ice cream comes to mind!), I can imagine turning the pages alongside each Paper&String reader. That makes me smile every time.

Download a PDF of Amy’s favorite thing here!

D

o I HAVE to choose??

Okay, if I have to: my favorite thing from the first year of Paper&String was the feature essay in the July issue, “A Shared Vocabulary” by Kimberly Coyle. It was such a wise and elegant piece of writing, it made me incredibly proud to be a part of the team who made space for its creation.

Download a PDF of Christie’s favorite thing here!

M

y favorite part of putting P&S together is when Christie sends me all the photos she’s taken for the next month. A theme, a specific kind of coziness emerges, and I put all the pieces together like a warm quilt to throw over our readers. A specific piece that spoke to me was Patrice Gopo’s essay on tea in April’s issue. As a tea drinker with two full drawers of steeping choices and accessories,

tea is a comfort food in the best way for me. I saw myself in Patrice’s quiet words, recognizing the communi-tea (no apologies) built around a warm “cuppa.”

Download a PDF of Anna’s favorite thing here!

I

absolutely cannot pick just one favorite thing from Paper&String… and I’m the one who wrote the prompt. (Sorry, friends!)

But if I had to pick, I might say the title spread

of the August issue. I remember the little frisson of delight when I turned the cover page and saw Anna’s design: Christie’s cat, about to pounce on the knot in the string of our care package. The blend of artistry and subtle whimsy is one of the things I love about Anna’s work, and I think this page epitomizes the fun we all have in putting Paper&String together each month for you.

Download a PDF of Elrena’s favorite thing here!

O

ne of my very favorite things is the name, Paper&String.

I remember the hours of conversations and messages that went into settling on the right name for all the delights we wanted to package up and slip under your door. And so each month when

I unwrap this virtual care package, with its wax seal and glorious, seasonal cover image and hand-lettered logo, I grin at the perfect name that stands for a collection of so many favorites, all new each month, with love from the Black Barn to you!

Download a PDF of Lisa-Jo’s favorite thing here!

The Team!

Christie & Jonathan Purifoy

live at the old farmhouse in Pennsylvania called Maplehurst and built the Black Barn. Christie earned a PhD in English Literature from the University of Chicago before trading the classroom for a picket-fenced garden and an old writing desk. Now she writes books and raises kids and chickens and tends the trees that gave Maplehurst its name.

Lisa-Jo Baker is a

third culture kid, former attorney, reader, writer, and storyteller. Every Wednesday on the Out of the Ordinary Podcast she and Christie explore the surprising ways that cultivating ordinary life leads to extraordinary stories. She is endlessly fascinated by people and how loud her children are.

Elrena Evans first had the dream of

sending you a care package from the Black Barn. She’s a writer, editor, and dancer, a mother of five, an ally and an advocate. A new Paper&String care package every month is her gift from us to you.

Allison Sheeler Duncan studied English

and theology at Eastern University and is now a writer and editor at a university in southeastern Pennsylvania. She enjoys growing flowers and heirloom tomatoes, watching superhero movies, and trying new recipes.

Anna Grist is the Canadian in our midst,

working on Paper&String from the Rockies near Calgary. She creates all the design and layout and contributes a few illustrations and snippets of writing as well as laughter and well-timed GIFs. She’s a wife and mother to two human children, as well as twins Quill & Ink (pictured).

Amy Knorr is an

educator, speaker and writer who loves to create contemplative spaces in real life and online.

She is in a Nonprofit and Spiritual Formation graduate program with a spiritual direction certification.

Amy has shared a nomadic married life with her husband, Dan, for 21 years. She is mom to two girls growing tall and a son she will hold again someday. She enjoys a good laugh, a quiet moment, a furry doggy face, a challenging trail and a cup of hot tea.

by Elrena Evans

Creator God, You began this world with a dream.

You are the maker of dreams, and the dreamer of everything good that is made.

Thank you for the many blessings of this life, for all that creates us and sustains us.

Thank you for friendship and food, for work and rest, for soil that yields life and beauty.

Thank you for giving us this world to call our home.

Thank you for the blessing of creativity.

Thank you for the gifts of art and writing and music and dance.

Thank you that when you made us in your image, you gave us the ability to create, and that in that creating we honor you.

We thank you for the Black Barn, for giving us this place to gather, to celebrate, to dream.

We pray that you would use the Black Barn and all who gather here to build up makers and keepers of community, co-dreamers with you.

Bless and keep this place, Lord.

Bless us in the many places we find ourselves, and keep us until the day we see you face to face.

In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Click here to download a printable version of the prayer

all content © Black Barn Collective all rights reserved

lisa-jo baker • elrena evans • christie purifoy a n n a g r i s t g r a p h i c d e s i g n & i l l u s t ra t i o n s a m y h i n m a n i l l u s t ra t i o n s a m y k n o r r s p i r i t u a l d i re c t i o n al l i s o n s he e l e r d u n c an copyediting all inquiries contact: p a p e r a n d s t r i n g @ b l a c k b a r n c o l l e c t i v e .c o m p.o. b ox 8 0 1 3 , w e s t g r o v e , p a 1 9 3 9 0 u s a

click here to subscribe to paper&string! see you next month!