up

when i'm down, i should look up.

not only is it a beautiful view, but that's where the answers are.

now if only i can remember that...

a favorite door

Quite possibly my favorite kind of door. I love opening my mailbox door every day. I love mail! I love the surprise, like getting a gift every afternoon. Yes, some days are bad, full of bills, but some days are good, an invitation, a colorful catalog, or my favorite magazine. Of course the best is a handwritten letter, with maybe a photo tucked inside, from an old (or new) friend.

(this isn't actually my mailbox but an old one of my dads resting comfortably in a pile of leaves... waiting for this creative daughter to do something wonderful with it...)

my childhood passion

I remember spending hours on my swing, ropes instead of chains, of course. Daydreaming. We lived on a farm for the first few years of my life, while my parents were together, and all of my happy memories were spent outdoors... on my swing, in my playhouse, in the barnyard following my dad. Great memories.

simple

Simple. Life was simple back then. I miss that.

Tis the season

My kids, age 18 and 12, decorated pumpkins.

This makes me smile.

I love fall. And all the warmth that comes with it.

Wiener roasts and marshmallows, snuggly sweaters, old sweatshirts, and soft blankets.

The yellows and oranges. Our anniversary.

My favorite time of year.

coffee

The fact that the coffee at my home has tasted especially "blah" this week made it difficult to be inspired to take a photo. It was fun to find this little mini coffee bar in the hotel we stayed in this weekend. I suppose there was one on each floor. The coffee was delicious and free. A fun surprise to go with the rest of my wonderful weekend.

out of focus

I watch as he pulls the text far from his eyes. He squints. He shakes his head. He turns the light on brighter. He reaches for his glasses, purchased from a grocery store. Now he reads. "Clear as a bell" he says. This man is my husband of 24 years and 11 months. I am not far behind. I must turn my light up brighter, too. But I don't pull the text away, nor wear the glasses. Yet.

abandoned

my home

Where I live doesn’t matter. As long as I am with those whom I love. And for now, that is in the great Midwest, central Illinois. Surrounded by corn and bean fields, friendly neighbors and small towns, drive-in movies, ice cream shops. Colorful leaves in the fall, snow in winter, flowers in spring. With a twelve year old who paints my toenails the color of the sky, an eighteen year old who calls me “momsa,” and a husband who makes all my dreams come true. In the middle of a forest, with acorns tap-tapping my roof. This is where I live.