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Wherever there is stillness there is the still small voice, God’s speaking from the whirlwind, nature’s old song and dance . . . – Annie Dillard, Teaching a Stone to Speak Five months pregnant with twins, I waddled up a narrow, rocky path. I was...
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All four kids took turns rummaging, elbow deep, in the large metal pot that holds rusted nuts, bolts, washers and nails. First they made robots, tiny friends composed of wing bolts and screws. They each made three or four and named them based on appearance...
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See the Mama wren? She’s fussing at me for being too close to her babies who’re tucked inside the bird house. Discarded shoes litter the grass around the pine tree; two bright blue Crocs, a pair of canvas sandals. When the kids are...
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Photo Source. Only the worst kind of parent hopes that the slow, cold, July rain doesn’t let up in time for fireworks. Or maybe it’s only the worst kind of parent who decides, even after the rain lets up, not to take the kids to fireworks after all. And, in...
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(Laura Lynn Brown, over at Makesyoumom.com is leading a discussion this summer around self-care – you can find upcoming discussion topics here. Then add your voice to the conversation in the comments. This conversation is near and dear to my...
