nurturing hope, creativity, family
What will they think of next?
Our most recent food storage purchase has found another use as building blocks.
I guess it’s time for the “buy buckets for rice” item on my errand list to make a big jump up to the “urgent” section.
In the meantime, a rice fortress in the living room seems to be working for them.
And that’s ok.
Hopeful Homemaker
Yes, it’s technically fall, but I’m still in denial where seasons are concerned, so this post is dedicated late summer.
How can you be serious about fall when you’re standing next to a rainbow like this?
I’ll admit I’ve never been tempted to haul an umbrella to a soccer game, but this one could tempt me to carry it around. I’m pretty sure it would be impossible to sit in its shade and not feel happy.
Yes, it’s still late summer at our house.
A few images…
What a beautiful time of year!
Hope you’re enjoying it…
Jennifer
It’s been a long, hard day, at at 10:30 pm I still have miles to go before I sleep.
My heart is all jumbled up with a dozen different feelings about at least a dozen different things.
And suddenly, out of the blue I am filled with an overwhelming ache for the ocean.
If I could have one wish , right now, I would wish for 30 minutes alone at the water’s edge.
I would go after the sun has set and darkness is gathering in. I would go with a quilt wrapped around my shoulders. And I would simply stand there and listen and breathe.
I would listen to the roar of the waves as they break on the beach and breathe the cool air as it whips my hair against my face.
I would watch the tide, watch the last light of the day as it glistens on the water, making way for distant lights of ships and far away piers.
I would stand still long enough for a feeling of calm to possess me, long enough to gather my disjointed thoughts, feelings, goals, disappointments, worries, hopes and plans. I’d give my heart time to gather them all back in, ready to be properly sifted, sorted and tucked away. I’d wait long enough to hear the whisper that says everything will turn out just fine, long enough to feel warm and cold all at once, long enough to let all the tension and stress drain out of me.
Then I’d take one last deep breath, turn around, square my shoulders and get back to work.
And I’m pretty sure I’d feel a whole lot better.
Longing for the sea…
Jennifer