One Fine Morning...

It's the last day of the year. For the first time in 20 days (or more) the sun is shining outside my window. This makes me happy. But the lack of sunshine in my days has been vexing. In speaking with my dad it, he finally gave me the word to describe the effect that no sunshine has on the soul...it makes one disconsolate . Of course, there are advantages to a lack of sunshine. For example, while riding in the car yesterday Lillian said, 'Mine eyes hurt, mom. What is that?" "That's the sun, honey," I responded.  Then I thought, oh, my. Has it really been so long that she doesn't even know what the sun is anymore? Obviously, when you have no sun shining in your face, you don't know how to squint. Well, maybe that's not a bad thing, you know. So I started thinking of all the blessings that come with a lack of sunshine.Think of the wrinkle lines we're missing by the lack of sunshine! Think of the savings on sunglasses! Think of the damage...

Image from www.city-data.com  This afternoon while driving home from a friend's house, I noticed an old building I'd never noticed before. It was small, square, and made of red brick. Engraved in white stone on the front of the building were the words, "School house no. 22." Probably because I haven't seen sunshine for about ten days, I felt a little crusty about seeing that old school house. Ugh, I actually thought. I wish they'd just tear it down. Now, I'm all for the charm of history, but it seems like every place I turn in this old town there is an historic building that has been "preserved." That's when my more utilitarian side takes over and thinks, maybe we should tear down the old building that has ceased to be useful and build something practical (like, oh, I don't know, another lane for the road so we don't sit at this very busy traffic light for ten minutes) .Like I said, I haven't seen the sunshine for a long ti...

December has blown in with gusts of white, billowing snow, keeping us inside, snuggling down for a warm winter's nap. With winter solstice so close, it's dark by 4:15. By 6:00 p.m., we feel ready for bed. We haven't spent all of our time sleeping, or wanting sleep, however. About a week ago, we joined some friends for a Christmas moment that I've dreamed about for a long time: we went to a Christmas Tree Farm (because they exist here. Do they exist where you live?) and we cut down our own tree. And to think, all that charm and beauty (and a lovely tree besides), and only one major melt down from a little two year old who does not like being cold. After the trip to the Christmas Tree Farm, we realized Lillian needed some serious snow gear. Once we hooked our girl up with some snow pants and other stuff, we decided it was time to help her build her first snowman. It was cold, but it was magical. Evidenced by the look of awe captured here: No matter how dar...