This originally posted in 2011, but a new friend made it and told me so on our Twig and Feather Facebook page. So now I have to make a batch myself. Oh, the power of suggestion ... I've been absent all week ... too sick to even get online. That's pretty sick, huh? My first doctor said it was pneumonia and my second said it was bronchitis. Whatever. All I know is that it's been a long week of sitting around in my jammies memorizing the line-up on PBS's "Create" channel. I like to refer to it ... continue reading...
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Little House in the Snowy Woods
Happy first day of winter! Here's a memory from a few years back. I'm hoping for more of the same this year. I am living in a snow globe. Every handful of minutes, the wind visits the alders and maples and evergreens surrounding our house and sends a shower of white billowing about. Inside this globe, I sit in front of the woodstove and watch the orange glow on the other side of the tempered glass. The sounds of David Lanz's Christmas CD fills the house. To my left, our 15-foot Christmas ... continue reading...
Should any one person be having so much fun?
I absolutely love, love, LOVE what I'm doing. I'm pretty sure I've said that twenty times this week, as everyone I run into asks me the same question, "How do you like real estate?" What's not to love? I'm in an office with the most thoughtful, generous people you could imagine (and all of them agents with their own businesses, but you would never know that by their willingness to share advice or marketing tips or encouragement). It's a happy bunch of people who genuinely like each other, ... continue reading...
Crepe Love
If you asked me to describe Paris in one word, I would answer without a split second's hesitation, "Lemon." And then you would back away slowly with that, Please don't hurt me, crazy person look on your face, and I would have to chase after you to try to explain, and it would just get plain awkward. So don't ask. But ... Paris really does taste like lemon. Perhaps that's because every time I've been there, I've had a lemon crepe. Every. Time. So now, the word "Paris" conjures up the taste of ... continue reading...
Beautiful
Gage follows me into the bathroom and watches while I put the brush back where it belongs. As we turn to leave, he settles his gaze on the drawer where I keep the bandaids -- the boring ones, and the ones I've collected just for him. I can see his thoughts. "Grandma," he begins, "I hurt my nose." "You did? When did that happen?" "Just now." I pull the drawer open to reveal the bounty within. "Would a bandaid help?" He nods. I pull out a small, nose-sized Batman bandaid. "How about this ... continue reading...
Here We Go
At heart, I've always been a matchmaker. As I remember, it all started in fifth grade when my best friend set her sights on the boy who sat kitty-corner from her desk. "He's so CUTE!" she gushed. That was pretty much all the motivation I needed. I began to nonchalantly extol her best features whenever he was within earshot. I let it drop that she might think he's not ugly. I nudged whenever the doing so seemed casual and un-forced. And lo and behold, one morning they sat, smiling bashfully in ... continue reading...