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February 28, 2007

Comments

Abigail

Beautiful. Thankyou.

At moments like that I think, "This. Oh, this."

Andrea

That's beautiful, MOreena.

Lauren

What a nice way to spend a rainy day!

erin

They're like tiny spring flowers themselves, those girls, slowly emerging through the thaw.

I love my gas logs. I turn them on and curl up close with a book and try not to think how it's really just money I am burning up in there, and for no reason since the house is perfectly warm and using the logs actually makes other rooms *colder*, but sometimes I just can't resist. There is something so primally appealing about fire.

jennifer

I feel like I was born for these moments. take away your fancy dinners- awards- school plays, weddings and the like. give me a moment like this and the gift to remember it always in my heart and bones. Thank you for the reminder

JenniferB

What a lovely "snapshot in time" -- thank you for sharing that.

Kyla

Beautiful. I love moments like those.

jeanie

I love little moments in life like this being so perfectly presented - thank you.

liz

Such loveliness.

sylvia

it's 11pm, rainy and quiet, and "bungundy shoes" fit right in with the atmosphere here just like yesterday with you and your daughters and the rain. thanx.

tracey

OK. I'm crying now. What a vision. I can just imagine it in all it's spendor. Now THAT is living in the moment and cherishing every bit of it.

Stacy

A wonderfully written memory. Just beautiful. :)

My Momtra

What an awesome visual...I feel like had the priveldge to be a fly on the wall. Thanks for sharing.

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Falling Down, November 2004

  • Balloon in hand, my 4-year-old
    twirled across the kitchen floor,
    singing nonsense words
    in her own key.
    "It's my gift!" she declared
    to the world at large, which
    was really only me,
    sitting at the table. Enough
    twirling, and she lost
    her balance, tumbling
    to the floor in a theatrical
    slapstick of elbows and knees.

    She lay on her back
    for a few seconds,
    staring
    at the textured ceiling
    with the mysterious
    spaghetti sauce stain.
    Suddenly she
    began
    flapping her arms and legs
    there on the floor, as if to swish
    the imaginary snow
    into a snow angel.

    "Falling down is also a gift!" says she.

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