Lest I Forget

 I stepped out into the coolness of the November morning to start the car and defog the windows, preparing to take Jack to school. Daylight had yet to appear. As we drove the many miles, the sky lightened, and we could see the mist hanging out just above the grass. We usually listen to a story together on our drive, adding commentary, exchanging a knowing glance or a shocked expression as the twists and turns unfold. I relish this time with Jack. I know that all too soon he will be preparing to leave the nest, like his sisters before him.  On the drive back, I pull my rosary from my purse and pray. By this time, the sun is just about to appear, making the sky a beautiful orange-pink on the horizon. I am pondering much as I pray, for the path I am on is once again rocky and uncertain. Such is life, whether we have faith or not. Faith makes it bearable. For the most part, the road home is a straight shot and I can see the ribbon of road laid out before me, narrowing in the distance. The

 I am knitting a toy tiger. I am also knitting a sweater vest that is very tedious work. Thus the tiger gives me a break from the hard work of the sweater. Except when I get complacent and think I know the pattern and don’t pay close enough attention. But then, in knitting, you have such a thing as a lifeline. For those non-knitting readers, it is a row of knitting with a piece of scrap yarn in it so that if you need to unravel your work, you have a safety row in place to save your project. I had not placed such a lifeline, thinking it would not be needed. Fortunately for me, I could easily sew one in and then unravel my mistake. Also, I am using a set of broken needles because they still are usable, though not perfect. Why am I telling you this, you ask?  Well, it got me to thinking, it did. What if life had a point at which we could safely return to and undo mistakes? A point where things were going well and even if we are using broken needles (because aren’t we all broken in some wa

 First of all, I doubt anyone still checks this little old neglected blog, so I am probably talking to myself right now. But if by chance, there is still someone out there, I will tell the tale of the tail I came to tell. As little boys are apt to do, Peter left his rainboots outside on the front porch several days ago. As they do not add to the decor on the porch, I decided to bring them inside this morning and I put them by the back door, where they belong. There they sat, until the mail truck came by and tucked our mail into the box. I may or may not have mentioned that our property is surrounded by a moat during the rainy days. There is no going to collect the mail without rain boots. Seeing how Peter was supposed to be doing his math lesson, of course he eagerly volunteered to go get the mail. He hopped up from the table and went to put on his boots. The scream that came from him made me leave my seat! I thought he had hurt himself. He claimed there was a roach in his boot. I pick

 Boy howdy, has it been a while since I sat down at the computer to put words on a screen!  Nobody ever said life was easy. God did not promise that, either. In fact, He said it wouldn't be a piece of cake. Maybe that is not a direct quote. If nothing else, God does not lie.  Here I am, in a new house, in a new state (not quite new, we lived here a long, lifetime ago), trying to begin a new life.  So far, we have all suffered and survived Covid. Except the hamster. He is still on meds twice daily. Who knew hamsters could contract covid? For an extra $12, the vet added peanut butter flavor to his medicine. Calvin the hamster is most appreciative.  Our new house has a pool. The kids are most appreciative. I, however, have had to learn pool maintenance, which has not been a piece of cake. Thankfully, we received a housewarming gift from my parents, a robotic pool vacuum. I named him Ramone. Ramone faithfully cleans the pool every other day, as long as I plop him in the pool.  Our ne

  Currently crocheting the most complicated pattern I have ever tried. I am twelve rounds from finishing and it is uncertain whether my yarn will hold out. Also up for debate is whether the hat will fit. If nothing else, I have learned I can crochet at an advanced level and it is a beautiful pattern and well-written too! It is the Hedera Hat.  We have read this book for so many Advents now that the children admit to not remembering not reading it. And they still gather eagerly each evening for the next installment. A glowing review if ever there was one! Joining Ginny for the yarn along.

  I struggled into consciousness as the alarm interrupted my sleep. The darkness outside makes it considerable hard to leave the warm, cozy bed. I wander toward the kitchen, feeling more than seeing my way, to start the coffee that will hopefully bring my brain to functioning capacity. Somewhere in my hazy thoughts, I remember I have a plan for this day. Not big plans, mind you, just school, laundry, and a few odds and ends that need doing. The sun is doing its best to dispel the dark as I sip coffee in my comfy blue chair. The cat, as is part of her routine, beckons me to the back door, where I see that the fire pit that was full of water is now full of ice. I mentally move "morning walk" to "afternoon walk." It is not long before the children are awake and noticing that ice themselves. Unlike me, they brave the cold with nary a jacket to place a Lego minifigure, fitted with ice skates onto the surface of the ice. Their enthusiasm takes them to the edge of the lake