By Way of Explanation
After writing my post from yesterday, I received quite a few messages expressing either concern or encouragement or both. If you haven't read the post, this one won't make much sense, so go here and read it. Really, go ahead. I'll wait. Done? Okay. Now, after the messages I received, I feel compelled to make a bit of a departure from the norm and clarify a few things if you'll indulge me. First, there is nothing wrong with my current life. NOTHING. I'm quite content with it, as a matter of fact. I've been blessed to a crazy degree (at least from where I'm sitting), with an exceptional husband, two wonderful adult daughters, a great son-in-law, and three grandchildren who knock my socks off...
Color Me Purple
I have this book in my grandkid room, thanks to a very special friend (Hi Lynne!). It's new to Lilli, and honestly, I haven't read it in many years. After an evening of tractor rides and feeding the horses with her Aunt Maddie (her new favorite activity), and a quick dip in the pool, we went through the bedtime rituals of bath and teeth-brushing, and found ourselves curled up together in the rocking chair with Harold and his purple crayon. He starts out deciding to take a walk in the moonlight, and because there is no moonlight at the moment, or a path to walk on, he draws both with his crayon. When he desires to walk through the forest, he draws a tree, but only one because he doesn't...
Ignorance is Bliss. Really.
Last night, Kevin and I were getting ready for bed and chatting about the day. We'd all made the trek to see family on Friday, and Emmie and I, and the kids, had stayed over for a little gathering at my folks' yesterday. We (or the Beverly Hillbillies - it was hard to tell the difference, looking at the car) got home late afternoon yesterday, and we had a lot to catch up on. He happened to glance at the clock, thinking it was later than it was. "What? It's only 10:00!" My response? "It's 10:00. Do you know where YOUR children are?" Some of you are chuckling right now. That is, the some of you that are, what, 45 or older? 🙂 When we were kids, after the news, at 10:00pm, there was a...
Sounds Without Words
When you take care of a newborn, your world is filled with a zillion tiny sounds. You forget that between babies, I think. You expect the wailing (which if forever embedded in your memory), but it's the squeals, grunts and coos that tickle you or grab your heart. Right now, Brody, two months, is laying on my chest, making a sound with every breath. I'd say he's in REM sleep, so he's content, but not totally out. Earlier, he was fidgeting and grunting; my diagnosis was gas. Cooing? He's chatty and sociable. Really, he doesn't have to say words because His sounds tell the tale, and we've gotten to know him well enough to understand them. I was thinking how nice it was that God gave us the...
The Best View
Since we moved into our house a year ago, I've enjoyed our view out the back windows probably more than anything else. There are banks of these types of windows along the entire back of the house and the kitchen is included in that, carrying my line of sight down into the lower pasture, grazing ground to our herd of horses. While I cook, I get lost in that view. Somehow dinner manages to make it to the table but I often wonder how, with my mind wandering and being distracted by the constant lure of nature happening beyond the glass. Then, yesterday, as I was stirring sauce and boiling spaghetti, my eyes lifted on their own, following their usual pattern, only to be met with this... My...