This week has not felt like a regular week since before it began.

Mainly because it started Sunday with the power out from a snow and ice storm that caused lots of trees to fall across lots of wires.

But we have power now and we all have been singing the praises of modern technology since then.

 

 

funny

 

My son is thirteen years old.  Not a toddler.  That’s important to this story.

He left to attend an evening event.

When he returned, he pointed out something to me.

 

 

What on earth?  Can you not tell your shoes are different from one another when you put them on your feet?

 

fashionable

 

I have long been searching for a specific to my imagination set of leather chairs.  I thought I found some on Craigs List recently but the seller never returned my text.  And the second option had already been sold.

I’m not exactly sure what I want them to look like – but I have some ideas and I feel confident that it will be a situation where I’ll know it when I see it.

But I’ve been searching for literal years for this elusive set.  My sister-in-law owns what I have in mind but she’s not willing to let me take them from her living room, so what can I do?

Here are some chairs along the lines of what I mean.  This way – maybe all of you guys can be my eyes and if you see this style of chair at some second hand store or a thrift store or a yard sale or online somewhere – you can be a hero and send me a text and I’ll drop everything and go look at them right then.  (This is probably true.)

 

 

flavorful

 

I’m not ready to entirely forgive Trader Joe’s for discontinuing their sales of what we called their Lemur tea.  (Because, you know, there was a picture of a lemur on the box.)

However, I have become rather fond of their Winter Wake Up tea.  It’s SO good.  Plain.  With a little creamer.  Whichever.

I love it.

 

 

faithful

 

It’s been such a joy to welcome Christmas to The Burrow.  To sit in the evening near the tree.  To see how this home wears holiday and green and red.

 

 

Turns out – it wears it really well.

 

feels

 

When we unpacked our ornaments and began hanging them on the tree, we came across a little mailbox ornament.  I think my mom made it, but if she didn’t craft it herself, it was certainly her ornament that got passed down to me.

Otto saw it and came immediately to my side.

“Mom, can I write on this?”

I almost said no because – uh, it was my mom’s and what would a nine year old write on a wooden mailbox ornament?

Thank goodness, something caused me to pause.

I didn’t even ask what he wanted to write on it.  I just looked at his sincere face and said yes.

He bounced away and came back out a few seconds later with a carefully written number on the side of the tiny mailbox.

Our new number.

 

 

It was a sweet ornament before – it’s even better now.

 

 

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