169.)How he teaches them how to catch moths in the bug catcher and gathers them all at the front door to watch them fly free. They stand in the open sun, light streaming. He has always- just been- so deft with insects and now- he teaches them.
170.)How I joy in their sweet girlie uniqueness… double their delightful ways, bright shining eyes, baby hair, kissable cheeks…
171.)How I know that slowing down and… trying to really see, be there, is where the pulse of life throbs… and I fight the urgent. Often fail.
172.)How I pick up more and more and more threads of direct instruction school and find a joyful rhythm. I love joyful rhythm.
173.)12 roses, red as only roses can be. Furled and opening. And I, utterly, utterly surprised. Cry, just a bit. Sometimes gifting flowers is ministry. And over the shoulder of my beloved’s kiss and embrace- I catch his shining eyes. He is pleased. Pleased his Dad gave his mom flowers and I remember being that pleased happy one, watching my own Dad, gift my Mom in so many different beautiful ways. So- my joy doubles. Doubles in his rich, red choice and in son’s happy eyes.
174.)Baby Free Floor Time every evening after their dinner. They sit and scoot and roll. She always grins big at her sister (A) and I catch her watching her sister with interest(M).
175.)We roll clay out on the deck and form snakes and ladybugs. I find this gift. Spontaneous gift.
176.)Sweet time out talking with a friend.
177.)Golden wholesome spirit and a Word we both enjoyed and the rich symbols in every part. Thoughtful worship. Mountain view and Christ- Exalted. Beauty.
178.)Finding my way on these mountain, winding roads and it has been slow. Slow like the pace of this small, sprawled county and maybe, maybe I realize, that is okay after all.
179.)How we still haven’t planted those pansies- and one golden one rises. Reseeded from the past. Maybe Sunday we will pick some up. The bed still waits.
180.)Listening to him play.
181.)Spring is misting over the mountains- and I am surprised by the sweet, multitude of colors- it is like Autumn- but somehow more fresh and new… a delicate unfurling. There are pinks and pale greens, daffodil yellows, and bridal whites daily unfolding.
182.)Quiet dark, sweet baby’s head on my shoulder, gentle rocking. Soothing rain falls.
183.)A rainy, rainy mountain day, and we, tucked warm inside our house.
184.)March 23rd and Tall Son spots the first golden swallowtail fluttering by…
185.)Baby girlies to cuddle and hold and plant kiss after kiss after kiss on deep, warm, sweet little necks and softest, plump cheeks. And listen to their sweet little chuckles, delight in their grins, rub their soft heads. O, the joy babies bring…
186.)Baby Free Floor Time … and how they all seem to gather… and I am surrounded by young children of all ages. Love. Babies play and stretch and move. And this time is proving so refreshing and special for us all. We congregate.
187.)How we delight in her “fluff-puff” hair. He tries to rub it down. It always perks inexorably up. Sweet, downy fluff.