Love Is …

RAIN. My garden looks so grateful, and bulbs are starting to pop up from the soil.
Sleeping in until 8:30 a.m.; waking to hot, fresh coffee.
Grandpa’s 68^th birthday, and gathering around a table with my new beautiful nieces.
Work that comes when you need it, even if it comes all at once in a big rush.
Dog-sitting a sweet little girl for a sweet friend.
A creative friend who spends his precious free time hanging out and playing Magic with my kids, conjuring a magical duel between wizards.
A husband who does laundry and cleans the kitchen while I work on the weekend, even though he’s sick.
A young friend who gives my older son a taste of big kid adventure—exciting paintball wars in the rain and mud.
Basketball games, even when we get skunked by a team two years older and two heads taller than our boys.
Little boy who says, “Mama, put your arms around me; it makes me feel safe,” and then tells me precisely how much to keep the bedroom door open and “check on me in four minutes,” every single night.
Big boy who lately seems more interested in hugs than usual, and who is learning how to write essays.
A grandfather who braved an outing alone with the boys for the first time.
Trudging through the muddymuck of the chicken coop to feed the hens; finding that their laying has increases ever so slightly.
Realizing that I live with Tigger—irrepressible, indefatigable, bubbly, bouncy funfunfun 7-year-old!

About Sara

Thanks for visiting! I’m Sara, editor and writer, wife to Ian, and mother of two precious boys. I am living each day to the fullest and with as much grace, creativity, and patience as I can muster. This is where I write about living, loving, and engaging fully in family life and the world around me. I let my hair down here. I learn new skills here. I strive to be a better human being here. And I tell the truth.

Our children attend Waldorf school and we are enriching our home and family life with plenty of Waldorf-inspired festivals, crafts, and stories.

© 2003–2018 Please do not use my photographs or text without my permission.

“Love doesn’t just sit there like a stone; it has to be made, like bread, remade all the time, made new.” —Ursula K. LeGuinn
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