Inhale and hold the evening in your lungs. ~Sebastian Faulks, Engleby

It cooled off a bit around here last night.  Dan is out of town and the kids and I had a nice, easy evening.  I took Millie for a walk and was ever so grateful for our neighborhood.  I am in love with this place on summer nights.

The historic homes pull me into a dreaminess about times gone by.  Who lived here so long ago?


And what is the story with this house?  with the families who were here before?  what were their days and evenings like?


The trees and the plants and flowers and the sprinklers and the sunset were all so peaceful.


I breathed it in deeply.  I am grateful that my family is so tucked in and safe.

Lift up your eyes upon. This day breaking for you. Give birth again. To the dream. ~Maya Angelou

I realized today one of the things that gets things going so much easier in the summer: the summer morning.  It is light out when I leave at 5:30am.  It’s light out when we come back in at 9:00pm.   It is easier to BE light when there IS light.  There is simply more day and more light within which to be a part of the world.

I’m grateful for the sunlight and warmth on my commute home from an afternoon working on a proposal:


I am so very thankful that Grace still creates little colorful creatures.  I love that she sees these in her mind’s eye and they come to life.


And I am so glad for how long the daylight lasts at the Kirkwood Farmer’s Market.  Long enough for everyone to enjoy the colors (and taste) of one of these:







Any book that helps a child to form a habit of reading, to make reading one of his deep and continuing needs, is good for him. ~Maya Angelou
I am so grateful for a lazy Monday afternoon.  I resisted every urge to fill our day with anything.  It was lovely.  The kids filled their need to read.

I worked on this little project.


And then we met this guy for a good old fashioned swim meet in the rain.


I actually felt relaxed all. day. long.  Wow.

“…the redness had seeped from the day and night was arranging herself around us. Cooling things down, staining and dyeing the evening purple and blue black.” ~Sue Monk Kidd, The Secret Life of Bees

I am thankful for a good weekend that wound itself down in a wonderful way.  We ended a full week (Grace at sleep-away camp, Dad and Lad at Boy Scout camp) with a nice easy evening eating and playing with friends.  All of us got to play, even Millie:


The dads and kids:


Not pictured, the moms playing (aka talking):

:) :) :)

And the evening slipped in and relaxed us even more… this is the sky out the sunroof on our way home:


And the light from the summer sunset was gorgeous:



And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, [...] I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer. ~F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

I’m stunned by how renewed I feel with summer.  It’s like I’ve caught a happy buzz from the colors and the light and the kids voices and the way the day unfolds in the summer routine.  Today, everything seemed strikingly beautiful to me.

Cute downtown Kirkwood in the early morning light (ignore the dumb Tan Co., when Grace is mayor that will be GONE.)


The colors on the console in my car:


Our (summer) home. Ha!


The sound of Max singing “All of me, loves all of you” along with that bed head (can’t explain the duck lips; he may have known I was taking a picture).


This girl.


And this place.  This peaceful, happy place.


And the green, green grass.  It’s so GREEN.


Darn you winter, spring and fall.  You’re just not as good.


When one has tasted watermelon, he knows what the angels eat.  ~Mark Twain

I’m simply grateful for summertime: hot air, cool spaces, refreshing fruit, fun  on our breezeway, time to focus on each kid.




Grace is not part of consciousness; it is the amount of light in our souls, not knowledge nor reason. ~Pope Francis

Today I am thankful for our Gracie Summer.  She’s a whack-a-doodle.


She’s complicated and full of beauty.


And she’s off to overnight camp with her friends.   A sea change has happened in me; I am less sad that she’s away from us than I am sure that this is good for her and that she’ll come back standing taller.  An evolving life with our own children is the source of so much deep joy.  Not the kind that has us jumping up and down, but the kind that fills our souls with light.



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