Our Own Little House
This week, at the library, I checked out some illustrated Little House on the Prairie books for my daughters. It’s been a long time since I read the series or watched the Michael Landon + Melissa Gilbert episodes on TV, and
Each Life Is Book-Worthy; It’s Just The Way It Is Written
My best friend, Misty, came to visit this week. The hour before she had to leave, my husband watched the girls so we could take a walk around our land. We put our hats and coats on in the breezeway,
Life, Love, and Mislaid Plans
Yesterday, my husband and I took our two-year-old to Vanderbilt to have her umbilical hernia evaluated, which isn’t an umbilical hernia after all, but a regular one, and will require surgery in April. Afterward, I was determined to have lunch at
Love: An Investment of Time
One of the traits that endears my husband to me the most is his love for planting trees. When we first got married, we lived in an apartment adjacent to our grocery store with a highway running past and a
The Difference Between Value and Worth
This morning, I asked my husband to move the bed so I could make sure my engagement ring wasn’t beneath. It’s been missing for over a week. I tend to misplace things all the time (even sentimental, valuable things), and
What Makes a Marriage Compatible?
If my husband and I were on eHarmony, I’m not sure we would be a match. I’m not even sure we would match up in the “What if” section since our interests are so diverse. He likes cold weather climates;
My Partner in Life, Not Just in Parenting
Three years ago, I took my firstborn daughter for a walk when it was ten degrees. I bundled her up in an Eskimo snowsuit and wrapped one of my scarves around the lower half of her face, so that you
Life’s Bittersweet Symphony
The September night we wed, my husband and I slow-danced. All I remember is how the two of us rocked back and forth as the crystals embroidering the hem of my dress cracked beneath his rental shoes. My husband is
We Don’t Have a Whole Lot in Common (and That’s Okay)
Our daughters were whining; the back of the van was filled with groceries; a cardboard box was on the floorboard, containing three leftover slices of mushroom pizza. My husband turned on the radio to drown out the noise or to
Going the Distance
Barn swallows are writing invisible calligraphy in the azure sky, and the unglaciered hills in the distance are brilliant, summer green. Hummingbirds are sipping nectar from the purple flower baskets hanging from the eaves. An abandoned windmill, in the next