Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Grateful 63/365
Grateful for self-timers on cameras...
and for a really handsome little ham to do self-portraits with!
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Monday, June 20, 2011
Grateful 61/365
Grateful for a really sweet lens that makes it possible to remember the intricate details of lilacs after they quit blooming. (Photo from earlier this month)
It's Patio Week!
Well, not lit-er-all-y. I totally made that up just now on the fly. But it could be patio week if you wanted it to be, because it is a free country and we can have patio week if we want.
I was just in the mood to show off my patio. It's nothing particularly fancy or extravagant I will sadly admit. In fact, it's nothing but concrete and rocks and pavement. And it's itty bitty. And it was kind of ugly. You know, apartmentish blah.
Blah. Blah.
Blah.
It still is, to be honest. But I cheered it up this summer. Added some flowers and a purty wooden bench and I like it.
So welcome to my little cement oasis.
I have never been a gardener, but I was so desperate for something fresh and green to look at that I actually bought a number of plants, including a rose bush. Strange, I know. And they are surviving!
I even have an itsy bitsy herb garden.
Do you have sunshine blooming on your patio? (Or doorstep, or sidewalk, or yard, or whatever it is you exit and enter your home from?) Will you celebrate patio week this week with me?
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Grateful 59/365
Grateful for toys, and toybaskets, and being able to sit by ourselves next to toybaskets, and messes we can make with the toys in the toybasket...
Yeah. Pretty much grateful for toys.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Friday, June 10, 2011
And Then She Met Her Niece
At long, long, LONG last!
I spent quite a bit of my single years as a nanny to my sister's children. She lives out in Nebraska, and it was the highlight of my life to be there when her babies were born. She has cute, fat babies. She made me so anxious to step into that far-out dream of motherhood someday.
December 28, 8 weeks after Jimmy was born, she gave birth to sweet Miss Korynne. It took a long five months for me to get to meet her.
And then, at long, long, LONG last I had her in my arms. All her cute fat fluffiness in my arms. She was IN MY ARMS!
Not sure what could be more fun than sisters having babies together.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Ah But It's Summer
And that, my friends, is why I pretend I don't own a blog. Have you any idea how much I could just drink this warmth, this freshness, this beauty??? I love, love, loooooove this time of year, and I'm not. Even. Kidding. It's awesome. I could live outside. I can't stay indoors. I plan my life around the weather.
Oh, it's going to be warm and sunny today? Ahh, dishwasher. You think I'm going to empty you?? Ha!
Today is warm and sunny too. Too bad, dirty laundry.
Oh boy, it's going to be warm and sunny ALLLL WEEEK. Sweet. Our grocery bill is going to be non existent this week, because who goes shopping in this loveliness??
And would you like to know what's so lame about the above scenario? I live in town. There's nothing to do outdoors but poke in the dirt in my 4 little flower pots that are trying to thrive under my care and be shocked that we have woodticks.
All that to say I am very much inspired to blog. Seriously. Every day. But it cuts into the whole soaking up the sun thing. So it hardly ever happens. Yeah, I need to work on that.
Oh, it's going to be warm and sunny today? Ahh, dishwasher. You think I'm going to empty you?? Ha!
Today is warm and sunny too. Too bad, dirty laundry.
Oh boy, it's going to be warm and sunny ALLLL WEEEK. Sweet. Our grocery bill is going to be non existent this week, because who goes shopping in this loveliness??
And would you like to know what's so lame about the above scenario? I live in town. There's nothing to do outdoors but poke in the dirt in my 4 little flower pots that are trying to thrive under my care and be shocked that we have woodticks.
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