Theee perfect summer day

Picking in apples in a deserted orchard (isn’t the phrase ‘deserted orchard’ just ever so romantic?’)

Finding the strawbarries. They are still here!

Berries for little boys.

Eating apples

I think God let that orchard grow there just for us, for this night.

Okay so that might be a little self-centered.

Walking home to go to bed

Wearing the Australia clothes so we could also sentimentally think of Aunty Cel and the unmet Uncle Al.

Just like the chickens in the backyard make me feeel like a homesteader, this orchard makes me feel like a pionier on the frontier. You know, finding food out in the wild and all.

In the coming winter, I think this is the day I will look back to when I’m wearing two sweaters and three pairs of socks and wonder what the summer felt like.

This is my idea of a perfect summer day.

What’s yours? Did you get it this summer?


About babies who want the ocean in one gulp.

When Gabriel is drinking and it does not go as fast as he wants it to, he starts screaming. He stops drinking and gets all into a hysterical fit, kicking his feet and flinging his hands about. He prefers to drown himself in milk, having it all in one gulp.

Sometimes I catch myself doing that.

God says He will give me the strength I need when I need it. He’s not just going to make me superman or give me my entire life in one second. I need to go ahead, take a step in faith, and He’ll be there. Like Peter, walking on the water. Only not quite as scary. (Seriously. I went snorkling one time and I was freaked out to the point of death because of the dark deep dephts beneath me. On the other hand, Peter didn’t have goggles and therefore couldn’t see the deep dark depths quite as well)

When I start kicking and screaming, it’s not nearly as acceptable as when my baby does it. Even when he does it it’s risky business for the little dude.

So my point is, just like I want my baby to be […]


I step into the water feeling big.

Excited and keeping my cool, acting tough, I walk into the icy cold water, laughing at my husband and sister-in-law who are still standing in the shallow parts, not willing to go under into the freezing wetness.?Dipping my head under the water just enough to get my goggles in the water, I float, high enough that my tube for oxygen stays in the air.

The last time I went snorkeling it was magical. The sun sparkled and I felt like a mermaid swimming?in the midst of a school of fish. Almost touching them.?This time, the sun isn’t shining.?I see fish, corals and seaweed floats evasively between it, but the water is dark and menacing this time.

All at once I stop. The ground opened up to show a deep gash. And I’m terrified. Like something will grab me.?Not so big and cool anymore, I shiver and wait for Mike to reach me. He wants me to touch the yellow buoy.

We swim over, but I have to make myself. Something about the dark, deep gashes scares me to death. I touch the yellow floaty thing and swim back like my life depends on […]