As if that weren't enough

Later that night...

a bonfire was born.

The children eagerly followed Mattie outside, bundled as quickly as they could and left me to prepare dinner in the quietness of an empty house. Baby swung contentedly in the living room, candles flickered in the dining room while the sound of boiling water melding with Beethoven and Tchaikovsky.

After rubbing circles with my finger for eye holes, I would steal occasional glances from the steamed kitchen windows to keep eyes on my lovelies. Even without the eyeholes, vague orange shapes would flicker through the translucent haze.

Torched were the many fallen trees branches, brush, and weeds that were cluttering one of the only flat areas of land close to the house. There is much more to do, but my! what a difference a few hours of work can make!

My hope is to use this spot for my garden. A perfect spot, sandwiched between creek and apple tree and just down the embankment from the patio porch, where I can sip my sweet tea and write letters all the while enjoying the view of my hard work.

Many a deer (and even a bear) were spotted in this area, so a good fence will be a must. But deer, I'm afraid, are rampant all over the property, so this area I suppose will be as good as any.



Is there anything more wonderful than the sight of a strong, able man with an ax?!?! I think not.


And a boy with mismatched mittens. Not because he doesn't know how to match, mind you, but because he's a little lost kitten who can't seem to keep track of both mittens at the same time.


I love that my children can be witness to the warm, sparking orange flames of a bonfire on a chilly February evening as they work alongside their Papa. I'm ever so thankful for that.