Small Town

If the farm was Paradise, equally enchanting was the town of Westbrook, Minnesota.

Hometown of the Man of the House.

Population: 757

What do I love about this small town?

Long sidewalks under old, old trees:

Main Street - 1/4 mile long:

Community Pool to cool off in:

Gorgeous Victorian home awaiting renovation:

Not a fast food joint in sight:

Piece of farmland turned in to a 9-hole golf course:

Community barbeque dinner -
Close down the street; pull up a chair:

Its aging softened by the beauty of its surroundings:

Just Another Week in Paradise

My face is glowing. My heart is pitter-pattering. I'm walking about 3 inches off the ground.

I guess I should explain.

I've just gotten back from farm country. America's heartland. Paradise.

I've told you how I LOVE big, wide open spaces. Well, I had all the big, wide open spaces I could ever want.

Here are some scenes I'm holding in my heart.

Wooden swingset overlooking miles of open farmland:

Lush, green grass and sweet flowers:

3 barns full of piglets, translucently pinky-white,
slightly fuzzy. They are Wilbur.

(source)

Prairie lakes dotting the landscape:

Even more enjoyable up close!










Rich, black dirt, bright green crops rolling
into the distance . . . not a billboard, skyscraper,
or another house to mar the view:

Arabian horses to befriend:

Amuse:

Enchant:

And maybe even ride:

Long, winding dirt roads that seem never to end.
Roads to take you home . . .
and hopefully bring you back again.
(Do I hear John Denver in the background!)

Special Moments By the Sea

Let's see, can I get one more post about Hilton Head out here? Will you indulge me one more?

Or maybe I could just continue to post indefinitely about the wonders of salt air, sea and sand? Mmmmmm!

Here's just a little sampling of some special times over the Thanksgiving weekend.

Bare Feet In Ice Water: I don't know how those kids

stood it, but they ran in it, danced in it, jumped in it,

and never stopped giggling!

The Wonderful Haze of Spanish Moss: It's everywhere,

and it makes for a wonderland . . . riding bikes along the paths,

the sun dappling in among the branches of the oaks and

glowing through the hanging moss.

Baby in a Basket: My bike basket as it looked

headed for the beach with Youngest Daughter's necessities.

Sunset, Sand and Shells at Twilight: Oldest Daughter

took this, laying down in the sand and gazing across sand,

shells and grasses into the setting sun. Mmmm!

My Girl: I love this girl. I loved watching her ride along
the edge of the surf, water spraying from the tires, wind
blowing the curling ends of her hair. I loved the way she
got us back to the condo . . . when I got us lost. I love her
beautiful common sense and her brilliant sense of direction.
This girl is my rock . . . my fun-loving, strength-giving,
stabilizing rock.

Red Rocker Overlooking Harbortown: This was such
a wonderful place to sit and take in all the sights and
sounds of the bustle of people and the gentle lapping of the
boats in the water.

"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights." James 1:17

We're Staying Where??

Wednesday a.m. found us ambling down the road toward Hilton Head. All of us konked out right on cue, leaving the Man of the House to navigate us along the highway with only a few vanilla Cokes and a box of Cheez-It's to keep him company.




When we pulled up to our Sea Pines' condo at 5 p.m., we were met with a most interesting sight! A building permit slapped right by our door, braces holding up new siding, piles of lumber and some kind of earth-moving equipment. Hmmmmm. Oh well!

The Man of the House immediately pulled out his cell phone and dialed the rental company. While he voiced complaints on the phone, I gave my opinion in the background.

"There's a building permit right by the door!"

"There doesn't seem to be any work going on."

"There's a pile of lumber in the walkway!"

"I think we can step over it."

"There are braces across the entry!"

"Can we just stoop under?"

The Man of the House looked at me over his cell phone and with his eyes, politely (I think!), asked me to please . . . be . . . quiet!

We headed over to the rental agency. The poor frustrated clerk! It was the night before Thanksgiving; his office was to close in 1/2 hour; Hilton Head was packed out; and before him stood a homeless family of seven!

He thumbed wearily through his availabilities.

"Okay, I know you had a 3-bedroom condo, but how about a 4-bedroom, 3-story, right on Harbor Town Links and across the walkway from the harbor itself?"

"And, yes," he answered my lifted eyebrows, "for the same price."

And that is exactly where we landed . . . delightedly!

These are the times you're glad you're married to a strong-willed man . . . a force to be reckoned with. A force that lands you in a spacious condo . . . 3 stories above beautiful Harbor Town.

Being Thankful

Happy Thanksgiving! I hope everyone is enjoying some part of their day. Holidays can be rough and sometimes it's just the few moments when you first waken in the morning that makes your day special . . . or a turkey that actually cooked all the way through this year . . . or 2 minutes to yourself in quiet reflection at the end of the day.

I always feel a lot of pressure on these holidays to make the whole day big and grand and phenomenal and to have all the big and grand and phenomenal emotions to go along with it. And most often that's just not realistic.

And a few quiet moments tucking my hand securely into God's, talking to Him, and breathing, "Thank you," are more meaningful than the whole "shebang" of the day!

So, what am I doing today, you ask?

Well, a little of this:





and a little of this:




and a little of this:






And a whole lot of this:







and, yes, today I'm being thankful . . . very thankful!

"Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good. His mercies endure forever!"