I had a wonderful stay at home day the other day.
I have been blessed to be a stay at home Mom, but this was a different kind of day.
This was the kind of day when you have nothing planned.

The kind of day when the playlist of your favorite songs fills the house.
The kind of day when you have lunch at 2:00 as you read a good book.
The kind of day when you begin something…only to walk away, play the piano for a while, and then come back to the task…renewed.

Read More...

I love cursive writing.
It is beautiful and unique. No two samples of handwriting are the same. I remember that I could not wait to be in the third grade. That was the year I would learn cursive. No more printing block letters that never flowed across the page in a fluid movement. I would write elegantly. I even hoped that I could have an old fashioned fountain pen to make the new experience complete. I did receive one of those pens as a gift. I brought it to school…where it leaked in my pencil case…all over my desk. I was told to never bring it to school again.

Read More...

The house where I grew up had a road in the front and a road in the back. Our back porch, with its wrought iron furniture and glass top table, was the place to be. Not having air conditioning, it was the coolest part of the house.

I sat there many afternoons with my mother talking about everything, and nothing, yet still feeling as if all the things I had to say were terribly important to her. She was a wonderful listener. She had the gift of making even the most mundane thing an event.

Read More...

If you asked my children to recall a game we played in the grocery store when they were young, they may not all remember. It was not intentional. It just happened.

There we were…one mother, five children, two shopping carts, many questions, many helpers. That weekly shopping trip was an event…a teaching tool really. It was a time to learn how to budget, how to use coupons, how to plan a week’s worth of menus, how to choose healthy foods…how to behave in a store. Little did we all realize that a far more important lesson was being learned.

Read More...