Me: "Who has the best seat in the house, me or daddy?"

Adam: "Well, Daddy's is nice, but yours is best. Your's is squishier."

Friday, June 11, 2010


“You smell like parfait.” – Tessa, May 2010

I guess sometimes people see what they want to see, and smell what they want to smell.


I can’t say that my mind has been as quiet a place as this page would reflect lately, but my thoughts have been in a holding pattern, waiting to congeal into solid jello. Indeed I do have jello for brains.

This week the boys caught a frog whilst mowing a neighbors lawn. Adam ran home excitedly with it to plop it into our little front yard pond. It dove in right away and happy (I swear it was smiling) as you please sat right atop one of my large lily pads, which willingly supported its weight. Soon it plunged in to the cool, dark water and swam into the reeds to hide. The girls watched it blink for half an hour.

We had a frog. A frog for our pond. No frog could be luckier.

I have not seen him since. By the next day the pond was quiet and still again.

Who knows why some choices are made? Why would a frog rather live in the long, dry grass of an empty house than the generous and rich environment of a cool, deep pond? Why do we sometimes take ourselves away from what we know is best for us, our ideal spiritual place, to inhabit a place that will not feed our souls; will not nourish our spirits?


Like I said. Jello.

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