A long and lovely drive along country roads refreshes. Leaves are just barely hinting they’re soon to don their autumn cloaks. We drive past farms and fields and imagine how peaceful it would be to live out here. Gerry reminisces about driving this road with his dad when he first got his learner driver’s license.
After a busy morning out and about that included a trip to Costco because I wanted to get some pretty fall mums (of course, we came away with more than two pots of flowers), we settle in at home. Gerry heads downstairs to check his hiking schedule and make plans, Makiya reaches for my MacBook
Suddenly, I am alone. The girls are behind searching for rocks along the river, and Gerry is resting with his eyes closed at the car. I am struck by the silence and the peace of this place and stop to breathe prayer. For a moment, all that is, is here and now. I hold a stone
Yesterday, I pulled on a long sleeved shirt and put a little t-shirt on Murphy before we went out. The hottest days of summer are behind us. We’re into a cooling trend (it was 10C / 50F when I got up this morning) and we enjoyed a smattering of rain the other day (please, oh please,
In the afternoon the smoke clears and we go outside in the backyard just because we can. Gerry cleans and refills the birdbath. Murphy walks the perimeter of the fenced area again and again. Maya does her best to encourage us to go inside because her belly tells her it’s dinner time. And I take
I carve out time to sit in the park in the shade of a magnificent tree, and look up. I find peace in the strong trunk and branches, in leaves, still in the heat of the afternoon, and the sun’s rays barely peeking through. I watch a man wearing a red shirt climb out of
We think about taking the dogs for a walk in the sunshine after lunch but the wind kicks up again. Instead, we leave the pups at home and go for a drive. We stop by the community garden for the first time this year and see nothing reaching through the straw covered area where we
A woman, with an awkward gait that makes me think every step she takes is wrought with pain, carries a long rectangular canvas bag across the grass. She stops when she gets to the edge, wrestles a contraption our of the bag, and transforms it into a chair which she turns away from the park
Gerry brings home two flats of plump, sweet raspberries. I wash and crush some; cook and stir and sweeten them; fill jars with jam and set them in the water bath canner to process. It’s ridiculously cool outside for late June but in the kitchen where I work you’d never know it. While the jam
“Are you ready for church?” I call downstairs. ”Yup. Be right there,” Gerry calls back. And like we’ve done every Sunday for the past ten weeks, we gather in the den where I work some magic to get my phone display to broadcast on the big screen TV and we have church. Afterward, we talk
It’s a beautiful afternoon so, after watering the garden and pulling a few weeds, we head to the nearby park to walk. It’s okay. We’re encouraged to get outside and enjoy our city parks. People on blankets in the grass, and towels on the beach, appears to be practicing appropriate social distancing. Something new, since