What you do in your house is worth as much as if you did it up in heaven for our Lord God. We should accustom ourselves to think of our position and work as sacred and well-pleasing to God, not on account of the position and work, but on account of the word and faith from which the obedience and the work flow. ~ Martin Luther

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Chatter







Homegrown eggs result in fluorescent breakfast pizza.  FYI.






It is rainy and dreary and SO, SO COLD in this house!  We have no form of heat other than wood in this house and that ran out for the year quite some time ago.  What's worse is that with every damp, rainy, windy cold day the house gets that much more damp, windy and cold.   I am thinking gas insert fireplace.  I am thinking pellet stove.  I am thinking GET ME OUT OF THIS FREEZING HOUSE BEFORE THE TIP OF MY NOSE FALLS OFF.  It is spring, for goodness sake.  I am not supposed to freeze to death in April, even April 30th.

I think I might go uptown today.  Shopping.  In a car with a heater.  In stores with a thermostat.  I need to get a few things anyway.  Sympathy cards.  Wedding presents.

In the next five weeks I am going to THREE weddings, one of which is this weekend!  All the brides are young and lovely.  And as the daughters of my friends get married off, I catch myself wondering at the fact that I was once 'the young bride'.  It seems like just yesterday but apparently it was longer ago than I thought.   I have never felt old until now.   I am not old yet, am I?  Shouldn't my peers be getting married still and not the next generation? 

Corynn asked me this very morning "Mama, when you were born had pants been invented for girls yet?"

Gee willikers. 

I suppose I can't be the young bride AND the mother of a 10 year old who asks about the invention of girl pants.  Or of a boy who catches dozens of frogs in every stage of development with my kitchen strainer.  Or of a girl in the LIL SIS shirt who finds little flowers to spoil me with.  Or the boy who says proudly "Mama, take a picture of me with my toolbox!" and then notices that the picture doesn't properly show his pocketknife so asks for a redo. 

While the fancy white dress and the painted fingernails that don't chip with dish-washing and diaper-changes, the bouquet of flowers and the smile that just won't fade is such a beautiful beginning to a new season of life...

the life lived is pretty beautiful too.
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