In the midst of the chaos that holidays and weddings bring, there is always serenity in San Pete county. Naps! Sewing! Cousins! and finally, a much-needed date night of Mexican food and Sherlock Holmes 2. Memories of my children cozy and nestled and loved by their grandparents. The unmistakable tune of ‘Puff the Magic Dragon’ on the ukelele coming from the office; upon opening the door I will always remember this scene.
I always leave Mt. Pleasant feeling quite refreshed; equipped with new recipes and books and exactly the parenting advice I needed to hear. Where else could a person ever find such peace of mind, not to mention, the clarity that comes from watching and discussing the extended version of Lord of the Rings (naturally after having finished reading the series). And a drive through Thistle to top it off, where the girls have become quite fascinated with the concept of ghost towns. Pleasant it was, and always will be.


























L is for London
I am overjoyed to note that London shares my fascination with putting ideas to paper. These days, she takes advantage of every opportunity to cheer, announce, or document by way of the written word. For instance, within minutes of her occasional sent to her room, there will inevitably be a note thrown over the banister or sent down by way of sibling:
(Mom can I have a story
How about one for each person
I miss you
Have a great time)
Here are some of the more latest gems.
Be it a tea party, bowling match, or stuffed animal show, London is always in charge of the advertising.
(Now it’s time for the owls
Now please no cell phones or noise in
If your baby’s crying go out)
Any member of the family who is under the weather will always receive a pick me up. The black heart is my favorite.

(Dear Maddy
We love you with all our hearts in love
Love, London and Olivia)
After an instance of accidentally running into an already-upset Olivia, there was this:

(I’m sorry Olivia
How can I help you.
How about I leave you alone.)
Late at night as I collect little mountains of the day’s treasures, inevitably, taped to the wall, a memory of this moment in time, when she is six. Each page is unique, like a snowflake falling heaven-sent from the sky. Each one a gateway to a memory. The bowling party complete with homemade confetti. The restaurant where the server, chef, hostess, and dishwasher were all the same person. St. Patty’s Day. Someday I will read these more intently than the pages of any novel. Pages in the book of life, a story through her tender eyes.