Monday, April 2, 2012

bare feet in the grass and sand in the bucket

Sometimes I'm tired and feel every last bit of my 46, yet life continues to hurl toward me, around me, and right on past me in a blur of all manner of mess and warm and loud...and it doesn't care one bit if I'm tired and would perhaps like to bury my head under a blanket and snooze away some of my gifted time...and this leaves me with a choice to make.

I can revel in the living or I can whine about the busy.

I do believe I'll revel.

(A Thousand Gifts #1078-1095)

back to back visits

old-fashioned merry-go-rounds and the little one squealing "faster!"

taking a "drive" with the first-grader

the way he collapses in sleep on my shoulder

fences around playgrounds 

sand in buckets

bare feet in the grass

hands and feet made dirty by the outside

the leap into my arms

his ready smile

lovely writing by others that draws me to Him

his pizza pickup

long, rambly conversations

roadside pickups

humor, and the ability to see it

quiet sunday afternoons

successful new recipes

baby wipes(!)

Happy Monday :)

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