1. The Backyard Farmer is back! Season 60 of everything you need to know about growing stuff in Nebraska!
2. We have seven birds in the house right now: five of Mrs. B's chickens, rustling and talking quietly (most likely about how to break out of this joint) in the mud room as I type, Nacho (her pet bird), and, of course, Tweety Sweetie.
3. The house smells of violets. Nora and I cut both white and purple blooms, and when I walk into a room, I am lifted. I told Nora they smell "divine." "What does that mean?" "Like they came from heaven." "How would you know, Mom? You've never even been to heaven." "Hmmmm....maybe, but it seems really familiar to me."
4. I'm reading The Secret Life of Bees, and the words taste like honey strengthening my heart.
5. I am alone, but I'm not lonely.
6. We had lady bug pizza (Nora's recipe) tonight, read books, snuggled, talked about Jesus, hung laundry, raked the garden and Nora's flower bed, filled bird feeders and made watercolor paints out of dried up markers. We fought a little bit, and I felt put out that I had to get up five times during dinner to get Nora something she needed. Later, she stepped on something sharp in the yard while we cut violets, and I filled a pot of cold water for her to soak her feet. I grabbed a bandaid and some neosporin. And I kneeled in front of her, drying each foot off with a towel. I froze in place, the sudden realization, and I hear/feel Him reminding me: You must do this for each other. I look up, and I can't see Nora's face because the sun is setting behind her head, and she says, "Mom? Do you know what song I'm thinking about?" "What's that?" I'm still not entirely in my body, still humming from how close He feels, like a teacher standing behind me, encouraging, challenging. "That one that goes 'every little thing is going to be all right.'"
These are true stories.