Today was a day of little jewels. Moments that tasted good, the kind that make you smile.
I’ve talked about these golden seconds before. The ones that we should to write down and remember. The moments we are supposed to think about when we’re falling into bed. When we’re lying there contemplating the sobering realities of our time, these moments can fill us with satisfaction, with appreciation and thankfully with hope.
The first one occurred when I returned from my walk this morning. I called into the house, Girls? Do you want to see a snail? They came running. That they are equally old enough and young enough to marvel at a snail in the garden feels like a little miracle. Little Bean touched the shell a few times, more carefully than I expected from her typical bull in the china shop manner. Big Sister came running out, looked for a few seconds but wasn’t as taken with the snail. I was reminded of the other day when I brought home a photo of a Grey Heron and showed Big Sister. Aren’t you excited? I asked. Yeah Mom, she said, I am excited! Just maybe not as excited as you are. Gotta love her honesty.
Then the breeze lifted the laundry, flying it like kites, as we hung it on the line at Oma’s. The sunshine in the courtyard was so warm when she said, Gut gemacht.
This afternoon Big Sister ran through the sprinkler and sun bathed on the deck. Shimmering with delight in her new red swimsuit, she danced about for at least an hour in the grass. And then there was listening to her animated conversations with our sweet old lady neighbor as the bees buzzed and the breeze tousled the heads of the flowers.
It was eating ice cream together in the shade of the porch. Little Bean crumpled into hysterics when I told her there wasn’t anymore but then in a shocking turn of events Big Sister donated her last bit of melted ice cream to her poor deprived sister.
The bright light of the first rays of sun after so much rain, the pink sky as the sun set at nearly 10pm, the chats with my mom and my brother.
Our lives have shifted in these months. The girls have gone from being the two little maniacs I didn’t think I could manage so much time with, to the two people I want to be with all the time. (Except that by all the time I actually mean most of the time. Around 7 or 8pm I’ve usually reached my limit of sing alongs, and break downs so im ready for them to go to bed. Well that and nap time —the silence of nap time is also a welcomed afternoon pause … )
I wish you little joys like these until tomorrow,
Laurie's Franconia 