My husband is very handy.
He can fix anything.
He can build things with ease.
He can do wood carving as well.

I was spoiled through the years since we never had to call someone to do repairs.
He learned those skills quite early.
He did not learn them from his father.
In fact, he did repairs for his parents from time to time.

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My first job, when I was sixteen years old, was working in a cheese shop.
The store was one you always saw in the mall.
The employees wore a sleeveless denim dress with a red and white checked shirt underneath.
We all looked the same; the uniform was functional.

My second job, towards the end of high school, was in a children’s clothing store.
This chain of stores no longer exists.
Each store had a large slide and climbing area for the children to play on while their mom shopped.
The children loved to come in to climb and slide.

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Some people think of travel as an adventure.
Some people think of travel as simply going from point A to point B.
There are all different ways to travel.
No two travel stories are alike.

I always think that suitcases and mailboxes are similar.
Did you ever notice the various types of mailboxes you see on the side of the road?
Some people landscape around their mailbox.
I have seen beautiful clematis vines grow up and around the mailbox post.

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I just weeded my mulch beds the other morning.
The weeds are not terrible since I pull whatever I see each day when I water my plants.
The weeds that are most annoying are the small weeds that pop up out of nowhere.
Their tiny green leaves poke through the mulch.

I try to keep my garden and mulch beds organic.
I do not like to spray weed killer if I can help it.
Pulling a few weeds gives me a sense of satisfaction.
It is part of my morning routine.

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I have heard the expression throughout my life from time to time.
Batten down the hatches.
I knew what it meant in theory.
I never knew what it meant literally.

I said that to myself when a thunderstorm was approaching.
I get weather alerts on my phone.
I get too many weather alerts at times.
One will suffice; however, quite a few alerts kept coming in a text.

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My husband went to bed earlier than me.
I had a few things to do before I went upstairs.
I knew that he would already be asleep when I opened the door.
We each had an early morning the next day.

I walked upstairs and quietly opened our bedroom door.
He teases me that I have eyes like a cat because I can see quite well in the dark.
He needs a low light so he will not run into anything.
I can totally see in the dark.

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Three days before our first grandbaby is due, our youngest daughter graduates from college.
Our family tends to do things this way.
We had two weddings, two weeks apart, almost two years ago.
This just seems to be typical for us.

I am praying that each event has its own special day.
I had all my children early, so I wonder if my daughter will, as well.
It will be so nice to sit at our daughter’s graduation in peace.
It will be so nice to have nothing else on our mind but celebrating her graduation milestone.

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I went up to the front door of the house.
I was still in the clothes I wore to church.
I was wearing dress shoes.
The shoes had two-inch heels.

The heels were not the problem.
I have worn these dress shoes before.
It was the ground I was walking on that presented a problem.
The ground and the shoes were not compatible.

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I like attics.
I like the idea of them.
I always wish that I could go into the attic of an old house and spend the afternoon.
After spending the afternoon, I wish for one more thing.

I wish that I would be able to choose one thing to take with me.
I would spend all afternoon contemplating what that one thing might be.
It is just a wish.
In the meantime, my attic will have to do.

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I heard the knock.
I knew the person who was doing the knocking.
Anyone else would have used the front door.
Not this friend; she is a backdoor kind of friend.

To be a backdoor kind of friend is a good thing.
To be able to come up onto the deck and enter my house through the kitchen door is lovely.
I am in the kitchen most of the time anyway.
If I am not cooking or baking, I am writing.

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