It’s definitely time. I need to venture into the barn attic and bring down the makings for our family thankful tree.
Sorry! You’ve reached this post on an old out-of-date page. To read this post, please hop over to my newly designed page right here.
Making a Thankful Tree with my family is always one of the highlights of our year. It’s that awesome. So click here to read all about it.
Seriously! See you there.
I’m always somber this time of year; sad to see summer fading. To get out of my funk, I focus on the vibrant beauty that next month will bring and think of things to do with autumn leaves.
While I realize that Sweet Summer can only offer a few more stray weekends of her long, warm days before she tucks them away for another year, I allow myself to start opening my tight grip on these fleeting warm New England days. In truth, I’m ready for a new season.
She and I were longing for hope. This week, we found it everywhere. And we’ve grown.
I sometimes felt God’s face was far from us the recent, difficult months. But I learned that He wanted us to grow by seeing his hope in other’s faces, in prayers and gifts of friends, and even where I was least expecting it…
Dismal disappointments. Problems we can’t fix. Hours of puffy-eyed tears of a parent who can’t take away her child’s pain. Some days are filled with such things. I’ve had a week full of those days. I’m exhausted. I’m prayed out. Prayers that were detailed and descriptive and full of scripture on Monday degenerated to weak silent moans on Friday. But through it all, there was beauty in the sorrow.
Today after pulling into the drive after long hours in the car, after medical tests and doctors visits, and after more questions with only glimmers of peace in the answers, I walked down to the garden.
I became the new owner of the most amazing old treasure at our library book sale. It’s dusty. It’s huge. It’s a tome of words… a dictionary printed in 1920.
A daughter sauntered over to me as I perused the historical fiction table and announced I had to see THIS. She knew I’d love it. She pulled me three tables down and a row over. “Look!” was her one-word invitation to glance at the richly marbled end papers and water stained, worn, embossed cover as she gingerly turned some of its thousands of pages of vernacular expressions, idioms, and agricultural and botanic terms from 1920.
Would you like to increase your home’s value? In your own eyes? In the eyes of your children? Surprisingly, all that’s sometimes needed is a little distance…
There’s a story I love to tell about the house with golden windows. (I’m not just a crazy chicken lady and homesteading homeschool mom; I’m also a professional storyteller, so I have a few stories tucked away that tend to spill out sporadically. )
When did we start thinking things needed to be quick and easy? Nothing’s quick or easy if we’re going to really learn something.
It seemed odd to me that our farm’s one-year anniversary fell on Easter Sunday. Almost sacrilegious. Easter: my most treasured holiday, filled with priceless memories.
souly rested 