simple life

on packing a minimal weekend bag
In so many sweet ways, motherhood has been a journey in simple living for me, one I’ve always craved and not always known quite how to live. It may seem insignificant to some, but learning to
the art of Thanksgiving
I love this time of year. The leaves, finally changing colors, form day’s light each with unique and separate detail. “Look at me,” they chorus, and I do. For they, like the dancer on the
happy father’s day.
These single days of the year we set aside to salute the parents in our lives feel to me a bit like fitting a blue whale in my 5′ bathtub. I usually try to make
a swelling happiness
Mark’s currently taking a class on radical publishers/writers during the British Romantic period — which of course creates 1700 pages of  light summer reading for him. (Wink. Wink.)  Although he at times must  drudge through
final light + our backyard + husband next to me + kids playing + red wine + 65˚ = {this
{this moment}: A Friday ritual. A single photo (or group of photos) capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor, and remember. (inspired by soulemama)