Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Multitudes on...Tuesday?

106. Late-night and overdue gratitude lists!
107. great-grand grandmother and her great-great-granddaughter, snuggled together in a hug. They lost track of time, like two girls whispering about boys, and came to dinner, still talking about what an outhouse was.
108. clouds surrounding our valley like decadent, white frosting edging a cake
109. hard words to say and gracious ears who heard me out
110. the growing tummy on a miracle mama, one I have prayed for many times
111. three baby robins with their beaks upturned
112. Grandpa who lifted curious kids up to see... isn't this what all grandparents do? Lift children up to see?
113. a date night
114. a summer to-do list
115. a five-year old who conquered the hula-hoop
116. my son who told my mother today, "I pick you, Gramma."
117. impromptu guests who even brought dinner with them
118. the Candyland birthday party that is almost cleaned up
119. stories of school days, wash day, & deliver-cotton-to-the-gin day, told by Grandma G.G. to my children
120. Then, a look forward for this 94-year old woman, who pondered, "I wonder what my mama will look like in Heaven."
121. Weeds - really?!! - that give me the chance to quiet and dig my fingers deep next to my mom's, like G. G. and her mother would have done almost a century ago.
122. Warranty on eyeglasses, and the quick forgiveness of their owner when we broke them
123. Little voices singing to God on Sunday
124. The computer that crashed, and all my written documents with it. "As unto the Lord," I am professing (and hoping to really mean it soon).
125. Lizards - two of them - caught by the cat and rescued by Punkin, freed in the grass
126. Real Gil, who can fix computers that crash and somehow save 5 years of digital photos.
127. A freshly signed Certificate of Completion for Second Grade, and summer break commences!
128. anticipated junk shopping
129. loud chatter around Grandma's post-church Sunday table
130. this thankfulness - can you be thankful for thankfulness? - which is not my own, just His gift that overflows...as always.

Resting Here,
Karen