Breakfast at the Parramore's

Funny

Yesterday we baked some bread. While putting the dough in the oven to rise, I explained to Kate (age 3) that I was putting the dough to bed. It would grow while it was sleeping. We put a towel over it, and just before I closed the oven Kate blew it a good night kiss:)

Potato Harvest

The potato harvest over our back fence has provided lots of entertainment for the kids this year:)

Coffee

Diary of a Poet

I knew it was coming in the mail. My sister called to tell me that while going through my Grandmother's belongings, my Aunt had found a journal I had given my Grandmother as a birthday gift years ago. Inside, my Aunt found the card I had given her along with the gift. I heard she ran it to the post office -- she knew I would want it.

I prepared myself. I was excited to receive her journal --her poetry. I have been running to the mailbox every day to see if it had arrived.

Today her journal arrived. I stopped at the mailbox on my way to pick Isaac up from school and there it was. I was so excited to get the package, yet somehow frightened by it. I set it next to me. I tried to breathe.

It set on the passenger seat the whole way to school. I contemplated opening it at every red light. I managed to wait until I got to the parking lot before ripping open the wrinkled, white envelope. Flipping through the pages, I became overwhelmed and drove home.

I knew what would be inside. I knew it would be her silly, playful poems. I knew it would be her sensitive, private heart. What I didn't expect her was her soul. I shook. I choked. I cried. I was rendered breathless at moments. I feel like I had one last conversation with my dear, dear friend. I feel I was given a gift.

The Permanent Marker Strikes Again