Where seeds of thought have room to grow
Category: Family
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My socks may not match, but my feet are always warm. ~Maureen McCullough The drought took its toll on many of the oak trees in the Hollow. But Tom found the good in that this past weekend by cutting up the dead ones into woodburning stove sized pieces. Our woodpile had dwindled so much…
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"May your coming year overflow with love and blessings and wishes come true!" Last year I wrote that in my oldest child's birthday post, in honor of his 27th birthday. A few months later he married the love of his life, honeymooned in Italy, and bought a home in a city he loves. My wish…
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http://ads.blogherads.com/65/6567/campaigns/14/1426/1426662/x90.js The index card is yellow and splotched, the ink faded, but considering all of the action it's seen over the past twenty years, it's amazing it's still around at all, much less legible. When not in use, I keep it tucked in a small recipe box with other favorites, mostly one-pan wonders where…
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I'm up late, waiting for pumpkin pies to cool enough to go into the fridge until tomorrow. Fresh, clean, asparagus spears and cornbread dressing (my mother's recipe) are already in the fridge, waiting to be popped in the oven first thing in the morning. It's not the first time I won't spend Thanksgiving…
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1. Max can still run. Considering all the times over the past couple of years I thought the "early lameness" diagnosis was coming true, watching him disappear into the woods with Belle after a deer makes my heart soar! 2. After a year of posting an old piano on Craig's List, I finally…
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Today is my beautiful Mama's birthday. Soon I'll be on my way to Houston to celebrate another year of having her in my life. I hope the coming year will be full of laughter and happiness for her. She's been through so many changes this past year, the toughest being having to say goodbye to…
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I'm still behind on emails and blog reading and writing my children's story, which means I still haven't figured out how to squeeze more time out of a day, but… …from the back porch I can see the hollow changing colors; and hear the music of our little waterfall joined by a chorus of…