I do not like glitter.
My children made crafts, did artwork, painted, and played with Play-doh.
We had rolls of butcher paper that I would keep for the many pictures they would draw.
I encouraged creative expression, minus the glitter.

Glitter just seemed to be everywhere.
Even after we cleaned up, I would still see specks of glitter on my kitchen floor days later.
Children love anything sparkly; the more glitter the better.
I was a stick in the mud about this one thing.

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My youngest daughter has her own photography business.
Her weekends are filled with taking pictures of families, children, and individuals.
I am amazed at the way she sees the world.
It is amazing how she can capture the essence of the person in front of the camera.

She has been asked to take newborn pictures for a family.
That photo shoot is coming soon.
She has also been asked to take maternity pictures.
She was asked to take the newborn photos when the baby arrives.

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I watched my daughter assemble stools for her counter.
Directions on the floor, screwdriver in hand, she began.
Who would have thought that small counter stools come with assembly required?
In no time at all, they were ready to use.

Thank goodness I have a handy husband.
An engineer brain handy husband.
Schematics and blueprints mean nothing to me.
Directions and road maps might as well be in another language.

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We still have a country bench in our family room that is really a toy chest.
In that toy chest are some favorite toys from my children’s younger years.
The toys are there for anyone who visits with children of their own.
Seeing the toys played with again and again delights me.

One toy in particular was always difficult to master.
Difficult to master when they were young, but much easier when they got older.
It is a ball with cut out geometric shapes all around it.
Inside the ball are pieces that fit into each hole.

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Don’t you love it when you get a familiar voice on the other end of the phone?
Imagine calling a business with a question and the person answering goes to your church.
Imagine the smile that comes to your face when you realize, I KNOW this person!

Don’t you love when you answer your phone and it is your child in college?
Just the sound of their voice brings warmth from your head to your toes.
If they can’t be in the same room with you, this is the next best thing.

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The visit was planned.
A drive to Vermont after Christmas to celebrate with extended family.
Pack the car, her husband would drive; she would be in the passenger seat.
Three children in the back, the littlest one asleep soon after the engine started.

Such anticipation.
Leaving Christmas presents and decorations behind was not a problem.
Family time was something precious; a gift that needs no ribbons or bows.
The best of both worlds: Christmas here, another family Christmas there.

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There is something about a rocking chair.
Rocking chairs have contact with the floor at only two points.
This enables a person to shift his or her weight by pushing slightly with their feet.
That gentle motion gives the person the ability to rock.

The rocking chair will automatically rock back until the person’s center of gravity is met.
That keeps the person at an unstressed position and angle.
Many people who suffer from bad backs find relief in rocking chairs for this reason.
Rocking chairs are often associated with mothers and babies.
The rocking motion soothes the infant because it moves so gently.

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It seems to me that they just cleared enough trees to build the roads.
My dear friend from Colorado said that the last time she visited me.
I am used to driving around here and don’t really think about it.
She is right!

I always smile when I see a tree trimmed in such a way to accommodate the power lines.
I am in awe of the massive trunks of some of the trees.
They are so close to the road as if to say, We were here first.

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It was very foggy the other morning.
Fog as thick as pea soup, as the old saying goes.
The kind of fog that required Rudolph’s shiny nose to light the way.

I still walked early that morning.
It was mysterious and eerie, yet beautiful at the same time.
Light from the houses lit the fog in a captivating way.

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My dear friend is burying her father today.
It has been a long month in God’s waiting room.
Though the month was long and arduous, it was also a gift.
God has a way of doing that.

My friend’s father was an attorney with a keen mind even when his body was failing.
He had reached his 90th birthday and has spent his last years a widower.
He and his wife had four children; one died very young.
The other three formed a familial sandwich: two boys with a girl in between.

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