Trying to go from breakfast all the way until supper, I’m
reminded, again how much better off I’d be, “grazing” through the day with several light meals and snacks rather than two bigger meals.
Three steps higher than the rest of our church’s sanctuary, Carol and I noted how much hotter the air felt in just that slightly elevated area where we took our turn as elders during our Sunday worship service.
As we celebrate our freedom on the Fourth, let’s reminisce via the wartime correspondence I dug out of Dad’s cedar chest
After Flag Day and Father’s Day, we’re headed fast toward the heart of summer. How do we fit all those special times that can best be enjoyed on a summer day into the limited weekends on our calender?
Inevitably, events coincide and choices must be made.
It’s time, again, to ask my daughters if they have a gift in mind for their dad for this Sunday and if we need to rush out at the last minute to shop? Although we all know deep down that allowing ourselves to be entrapped by society’s marketing routines is our own choice, we also know we would feel slightly guilty if we didn’t step somewhere within the seasonal shopping loop.
Preparing a quick supper before leaving for work one morning, I stretched toward some shelves Mark put up in our kitchen and set out one of our three crockpots.
Marking another first for me, the mom who could be a grandmother by now, I smoothed down the drama and trauma of missing my youngest daughter’s recent visit to the family doctor.
Helping prepare a program for my Monday (reader’s) Club prompted me to dig out the correspondence my family has saved over the years.
Although I’ve noticed the graduation cap and gown hanging in my daughter’s closet on those few occasions when I invade her private space, nothing brought her imminent graduation home so vividly as an awards night ceremony where her classmates were honored for their high school achievements.
It strikes me as peculiar how one little thing can change the course of our existence so quickly. Some of life’s greatest tragedies occur in a mere second, altering everything that follows.