Happy Snowy Monday

It seemed like I could almost feel the earth breathe a deep sigh of relief yesterday as the snow began to fall and the ground greedily drank in the moisture.  This winter has been so dry.  Our few snowfalls have been tiny dustings compared to our normal Colorado winter.  The sled has sat lonely and gathering dust in the garage.  Twice, we have tried out our favorite sledding hill though the grasses were still peeking above the few inches of snow, and after a few skidding, halting slides down, we gave up and went home to console ourselves with hot chocolate.  But yesterday, the snow began to fall, and kept falling, all day.  Cozy inside, we played games, drank cinnamon, hazelnut cream coffee with our apple crisp, and waited for a break in the snow to head outside and play.  Within moments, Aidan and Chloe had disrupted the beautiful blanket of smooth snow with the back and forth footprints of a snowball fight.  The neighbor's fence this morning still bore the remnants of splattered snowballs that missed their mark and our sled welcomed two screaming kids down the hill. (And possibly a screaming Me. Chris is much too manly to scream going down the hill.)

Smiles

Happy snow days and wishing ourselves many more.

Roscoe the Fat and Etc

Roscoe is getting fat.  I don't know how. We have placed him on half rations and hid the dog food bag.  He likes to break into the compost bin and rummage for goodies, and in a pinch, he will also steal the chicken's food, or Ella's.  He's been sitting under the table at night with soulful brown eyes pleading for a nibble.  But his ribs have long since disappeared and his daily walk doesn't seem to be helping any.  The vet told me to try and keep him lean to protect his joints, but he just really wants to be a fat dog.  It makes him happy.  I tried to reason with him but he doesn't like to talk about it.  He simply looks at me reproachfully and turns his face away, so I am left viewing his expansive rear end.

Roscoe the fat

Our chickens have started gradually laying a few eggs again after free loading during the winter.  I started making threats to them about the stew pot so they appear to have had a chicken meeting and drew straws to set up a rotation to deliver just enough eggs to stave off becoming dinner.  Chloe's chicken wasn't a part of the meeting.  She's the queen after all, and has a very dedicated advocate.  She may live forever, free loading the whole way.

We found out on Valentine's Day that the little girl we have been pursuing in adoption has already been spoken for.  We didn't know her yet and we only had one little picture and a description, but still, we had been praying for her since August and imagining her as a part of our family.  We are so grateful though, that she has a forever family, but there is still a sense of loss.  I spent the weekend growling like a momma bear awakened early from a winter nap as I sorted through emotions.  We feel somewhat adrift because we thought we were heading somewhere specific, and now we've been redirected but we're not sure where that leads. 

Joy

I did a research project on C.S Lewis when I was in high school.  I remember he described joy in his autobiography, Surprised By Joy, almost as if it were a living, breathing thing.  How perfectly ordinary moments had caught his breath with a beautiful, aching feeling he defined as joy.  He put words to a feeling I had all through my childhood.  I remember sitting there thinking, what is this?...It almost feels like homesickness, but I am home.  It's an experiencing of beauty, but that moment of experience makes you long for more in a way I can't find the words to describe. I remember not knowing how to handle the feeling, almost like your heart is taking up too much room in your chest.

milk in a glass bottle...
tree lines alleyways...
jars of homemade jam...

A couple of years ago I started making lists of things that make me happy.  I've always loved lists.  In fact, when I'm overwhelmed or stressed, just the process of making a list makes me feel better.  Sometimes at night I can't sleep until I have made a mental list of all I need to accomplish the next day.  Having set things in a tidy, orderly space in my mind, helps me sleep. I have lists piled up in drawers that were hurriedly written on the backs of receipts, napkins, and take out menus.  I always make a grocery list the same way, folding a piece of paper in half and only writing on one side.

red mushrooms with white polka dots...
sharp crayons...
weathered barns...
hazelnut coffee on a cold morning...

I started writing my happy list because I wanted to express all the little moments during the day that filled me with joy, and capture them somehow to stop, and savor.  It's like filling a jar with beautiful memories that I can take out at any time and remember the scent and flavor of something that brings me joy.  It started to awaken in me such an appreciation for all the little ordinary moments of life that I feel very rich indeed.

metal watering cans...
thunderstorms...
mossy covered rocks...

It's sorta like being happy.  But happy in a way that you can taste and smell, and breathe in.  Happy in a way that makes sense because it's not focused on something to be attained.  It's focused on the gift of now.  And now, I do know what to do with that feeling...I go write it down.

ruffled aprons...
wildflowers...
apple blossoms...
the scent of freshly mowed lawns...