Or what pioneers do all day. *wink*
Truly, the little break was lovely and I enjoyed the slower time. Both the refrigerator and the computer just needed small repairs and I'm thankful for that. There are all these little reminders day by day that God knows and cares and watches over. Like many people, we have felt the hard squeeze of the economy and so many of our plans have been upturned or dead-ended and even small unexpected expenses can feel like a disaster. But when the margins get smaller, you begin to see the blessings in your hand more clearly. Do you know what a miracle refrigeration is? It was kind of fun to see if we could use up all our food each day and to carefully manage a series of coolers and ice - but I wouldn't want to do that forever. What an amazing blessing to be able to store food and keep things fresh and cold!
I took a few pictures during the week, so it's almost like I wasn't gone at all. A few lovelies from around the little old house:
122/366 - Theodore Giesel charming us out of (celery) treats. I don't know if there's a better way to spend the last of the day than outside laughing with the creatures you love.
123/366 - aging bluebells, prettier in their way than when they were fresh and young.
124/366 - Using up my fabric stash on a quilted pillow top; a couple of these prints were from dresses for Meg when she was tiny. There's something so satisfying about using every bit of what you have rather than buying new. I love the challenge of it!
So glad to be back with you. So thankful to God for His provision.
To live content with small means; to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion; to be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not rich; to study hard, think quietly, talk gently, act frankly; to listen to stars and birds, to babes and sages, with open heart; to bear all cheerfully, do all bravely, await occasions, hurry never -- in a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious, grow up through the common. This is to be my symphony. ~ William Henry Channing, (1841)