Sundays are for...

Waking to the sweet scent of blooms, spring coming in a frothy white. Remembering to use that early morning light to capture this year's show.




Seeking a new point of view of something very old.


Serious fun.


Salvaging enough wood to make a deck and a tree house for the boys. This is like finding a pot of gold to a carpenter.


Sewing and sewing and sewing seams. And finally feeling like I am getting somewhere on the Scrappy Summer quilt.

(I chain pieced two squares, pressed and decided on a rough layout and then started on the strips. Totally made this up. I bet there is a better method).

Silly colored Easter bagels. Mason chose pink and Owen chose blue. Shockingly colored but still very tasty.


Salad in a barrel. We water it and then pinch it carefully (you have to hear Mace tell me not to pull it, pinch it, Mama, no pull roots).


Seeds and soil. Turning the beds and pushing in the bean seeds. Dirty but fun.


Sun on bare feet. Muddy toes. Blankets on grass. A few stitches in the warm rays before I have to get up again and make something else for someone.



Sundays are not for rest around these parts. But that is quite alright.

Okay, now after writing this post I am tired.