Assortment

Thankful

:: For a glance out the window toward the pasture, and this guy, there, doing his fancy dance.

:: For our very own little cabin window through which I look(!), where inside the finish work really is coming along - the washer & dryer are here (squeal!) and the refrigerator will be shipping shortly, they tell me.

:: For one who still snuggles on my lap, wanting me to tickle his arms, his legs, his tummy...

:: For a really good recipe, just found. It's a keeper, say the guys. Via the Nester.

:: For the how the moon has recently hooked us in each night, watching it's waxing and waning.

:: For the fourth step up that squeaks.

:: For beeswax candles

:: For live guitar music

:: For the composit drawings & character sketches lying around - for a movie that's in the works

:: For when an entrepreneuring boy hatches an idea.

:: For warm, strong arms and a deep heart that draw me close in the night.

:: For grace.

 

It's good to write it down, you know? All this thanks. Reasons. Opportunity. Open doors for gratitude.  

I'm sending out holiday wishes and blessings to all my American friends, and to all my readers: have a wonderful week, and thank you for coming here so often, to read these little words. You are loved.

I'll see you next Monday. 

 

 

For All This

For when you keep coming back to this photo, to your four loves laughing like that.

For when you know all over again that each of them is living because of miracles.

For when that rocks you deep.

For when prayer-breaths are breathed throughout your day, for them. For all about them.

For when you remember that it's all about hearts and the lives attached to them.

For when that makes you pull yourself slow. Steady, now. Let's drink this in.

For when it seems as though all of you is spent, and they need a little more.

For when there's grace, and the reserve truly does run deep.

For when the words are gone.

But there is still a picture.

 

 

Have the loveliest of weekends, friends!

 

 

Bring it In

It was on the edge of last week's snowstorm that we decided we needed pinecones. Pinecones? Yes, quickly, before the snow covers them all.

We bundled against that chill wind, headed for the foothills and the nearest pine tree.  The empty flour sack hung limp in the hand.

Pinecones. Everywhere. The bows had faithfully produced.

We gathered at cold-wind speed. Stoop, pick, toss. Frozen fingers and red noses and it was all like a treasure hunt there beneath that tree, us scurrying and plucking as we were.  

Soon a hefty sack-full was slung over the shoulder and packed down the hill.

I think we may have enough.

 

 

Are you wanting to gather nature and bring it indoors, too?