Monday, July 21, 2014

One thousand gifts and still counting (5801-5826)

fat blueberries in the fridge
cooler days
a footstool to stretch my legs on
a nap outside to summer sounds
a room painted

Christy and kids over for a swim
the hummingbird feeding at the window boxes
a birthday invite for Erin
at her best friend's house, and they know how to throw a party!

daisies to frame

an opportunity to serve a friend
workouts with Sandy
fast days
lemon water
a waggy dog

family at the dinner table
Friday sangria
a picnic with the kids under a walnut tree
red and white checkered cloth

cookies in the freezer
blossoms on tomato plants
my neighbor made the plant cage for me

a front garden full of flowering hostas
purple cone flower, still

a week of VBS for the girls

the difference here makes

Thursday, July 17, 2014

In the oven

We're heading over with dinner and cookies to a friend's house today.

Baking up a batch of white chip/chocolate chip cookies, and a batch of these chocolate cookies with white chips (except I'm substituting with a combination bag of chocolate and peanut butter chips).

We'll have some for a freezer stash, and for Erin's picnic plans. Gorgeous day today. When I get the field cut, we'll have a fresh landscape for picnicking and finger painting.

Here's a little throwback of these kiddos. This picture is so representative of their personalities. (Insert wave to 2009.)

throwback to 2009

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Whispers of things

I wanted to try to get a normal night's sleep. Went to bed at a decent hour. At the top of the stairs, I glanced into Erin's room and saw her looking at me. We smiled at each other and I went in to give her hugs and kisses.

She was hot breath and fervent whispers of everything on her mind.

"Mommy, tomorrow let's get the tea cups out and have a tea party with apple juice like we used to. We can have it like a picnic with cookies," her eyes were bright with imagination.

"Ok," I said.

She got out of bed to come sleep with me, and all the while, she's whispering a to-do list that's every bit seven-and-a-half-year-old-girl.

"We can paint our fingernails pink, and go to the chocolate store for chocolates. We can shop for jewelry along the way, necklaces and earrings," she continued.

I'm sure there was more, possibly accompanied by rainbows and daisies.

Thankful for this little girl. Thankful that her mind is full of things she wants to do with me, that it's all special to her, however simple as cookies and juice on a blanket in the field.

Note to self: do not forget these days.

Tuesday, July 15, 2014


It's been like a presence at my back--the school year. I don't turn around, but I know it's there. I try to pretend like it's far away, but it's really right up against me.

At the amusement park, I chatted a granny who had treated her grandkids to a day of fun after a completion of summer school. I remembered my own summer school days--didn't they run like six weeks or something?

Egads, the summer is half over! I don't know if she noticed the panic in my eyes, or saw 2014-2015 reach around and tap my shoulder.

I got home and immediately crawled into a closet. Ok, not really, but I mentally locked all my doors and pretended there was no world outside our property boundaries. When a friend called and asked if I wanted to join her for Chik-fil-a cow day, I declined. I guarded every minute of that day, remembering last year's tears and last-minute picnic under the walnut tree, the mourning of a fleeting summer.

Insert drama.

This week has been a nesting week. I'm painting a room. I'm clearing out the space. I'm sorting through books and purging (I thought I did this three years ago!). I'm repurposing basement shelves for school curriculum on hold till Erin grows into it.

Erin crawled into bed with me this morning, and I was glad. She has been out of the habit for at least a year. She snuggled with me, and I listened to her sleep breathing and cherished being a mom. She stirred and said, "I don't want to get out of bed."

"You don't have to," I replied.

It was going on 8 o'clock. Coffee could wait.

Today, I'm in deep hunker mode. Finishing books, painting trim, organizing. Maybe tomorrow I'll get photos ordered and framed and hung on wall and shelf spaces. But I don't want think too hard about tomorrow. I'm just going to savor today.