Have you ever grieved when a book is over? This afternoon was such a time as that.
Add to the list of firsts and I can’t believe we live here:
Today, I started yet another journey. Fridays are gonna be extra full and extra fun this semester.
Happy birthday, dear husband. I believe it’s time for you to stop telling people you’re 27.
The rest of the kids went to youth group this evening, so I put my daughter to bed with a lingering hug and extra squeezes. While she was in my arms, I thought I really don’t do this enough.
We’re taking care of a friend’s cat in her house while they’re on vacation, and it’s remarkable the number of things in life about which I truly have not the first clue.
There are so many things about my home that I’d like to fix or improve or create or redo. But when it comes down to it, this space is perfectly fine; and perfectly fine is more than enough.
When I’m feeling unsettled or discontent in my home, a quick refresher helps. I fold and stack sweaters with a candle lit or a fancy cup of tea nearby, fun soundtrack playing in the background. Or I’ll move plants or rugs or artwork around, and suddenly the old feels new again.
When I’m feeling restless or out of control with the world, though, I call upon the defiant act of quieting my space. Forever grateful for this wisdom.