This afternoon, as I was running short on time and ideas of what to start for our supper as we would be later coming in tonight, I was gifted by the pantry fairies and found beans and tomatoes enough for a pot of chili. The clean dishes fairy was looking after me too, and the… Continue reading Welcomed Home
Tag: comfort of home
The Comfort When Things Get Wonky
Today we were on our new "fall" schedule in earnest. I use the term "fall" loosely because there's nothing remotely related to fall in August in Georgia. (97 degrees people.) Except for the fact that all of the schools have started. There is that. Today was "divide and conquer" day. As in, if the Fella were deployed,… Continue reading The Comfort When Things Get Wonky
On Coming Home
We have returned from our Big Trip. I could call it big trip, small trip, whatever, because it's the only trip we've been on that required an overnight stay in several years. And we were gone for seven nights. Seven. That's a long time for this homebody. We encountered mice, ducks, princesses, wookies, Jedi, and… Continue reading On Coming Home
Something in the Water
I have a very clear memory of my Daddy, in his jeans and his blue chambray shirt that Mama made him, standing at my Granny's sink near the door to the back porch. He has one of her small red solo cups of water in his hands. He is standing, staring out the back window… Continue reading Something in the Water
Going Home Again
You can, you know? Go home again. I know because today I did. I went back to the place I loved when I was growing up. Wesleyan College. When my Mama was in school there, finishing a degree that I had unintentionally and in utero interrupted, I visited and fell in love with it. Mama… Continue reading Going Home Again
In the Quiet of the Waiting
Have you ever been to a sporting event? High school football game? Little League baseball game? It's a bit rowdy and full of excitement and noise, right? Even when sitting in a theater and waiting for a play to start or waiting in your pew for a church service to start, there's a rustling and… Continue reading In the Quiet of the Waiting
I Might Need A Nap 