It is dusk at 4:25. Welcome lamps grace each window, beacons of warmth on this wet and so dreary outside late afternoon as I wait for three of our men to come home from their wanderings round the countryside. To the farm for filling up our milk containers and doubtless a chat with our Mennonite farmer friend and the granary for poultry feed before returning home to us.
I thawed a big roast earlier and put it in the oven, in a covered pot to braise, with a large can of chopped tomatoes, several sliced garlic cloves and a pound of chopped carrots. The smell of its goodness has been filling the house this afternoon.
Here I sit, nestled in pillows on the sofa, nursing Addie, waiting for my handsome men, giving out charades to Ella, Aiden, and Annaliese for my own amusement (Ella does a great animal of any sort), remembering my cup of undrunk raspberry zinger tea is still on the table from a visit with a neighbor an hour ago, these are the times I wish for a microwave but don't wish for one.
Construction paper candy canes are being cut at my feet, yellow and black, by the dozen while another child pours over a book and one bounces around with unending energy. Oh what I could accomplish with that energy! But now I am content with this warm wool rug underfoot, lugged from the attic every winter, with soft slippers on my feet and a newly sewn apron, with the new curtain rods hung at the windows and the freshly hemmed curtains waiting to be hung, with a hot dinner almost done, for happy children and a this small cuddler on my shoulder with her fat diapered end and soft head.
I am more well each day, drinking my iron, eating my beef, attempting to sleep more hours or minutes each night. Life here at home is beautiful and busy and home and family push blogging aside. Thank you for your well wishes, questions of concern and understanding at my not so often posting.