Flair in the Terrible Storm
I practiced one of the oldest ways of storm forecasting today: I watched the leaves. As families hurried into church under a darkening sky this
(my daily blog)
I practiced one of the oldest ways of storm forecasting today: I watched the leaves. As families hurried into church under a darkening sky this
Victory! I figured something out: My daughter loves to swing. More than any other activity, she loves to swing. Everyday, she asks if I can
“I’m all out of flair,” I said somberly to my sister this morning. I woke up tired, cranky, and very, very uninspired. Not even more
Today I had an unusual writing task: I was to write a blessing of sorts for the doctoral and master’s students that were leaving our
“Poop? Poop? You’re writing about poop?” my youngest challenged me. “That’s gross, Mom.” Well, what can I say? I don’t always get to choose when
My five year old steals my camera whenever she can. She’s the most determined little girl when she’s setting up a shot. She’ll take pictures
We couldn’t make the Memorial Day blueberry pancakes this morning because we ran out of milk. I was the one dressed already, so I volunteered
I shouldn’t like to watch things burn so much. Think about it: I’m taking pleasure in the disintegration of something, the dissolution of some object
A popular blog I read this morning suggested that one pathway to happiness is to “imitate” a spiritual master–someone like Jesus. I cringed. The not-flair
Driving home from preschool today, two bubbles floated across the street like they had somewhere to get to. I couldn’t see any sign of someone