When we're helping, we're happy.

"When we're helping, we're happy."
It sounds trite.
It is SO true.

A family garden is the answer (one of many . . . I'm sure).

I don't claim any awards for our garden this year. 
I'd say half success, half disaster.
I'm focusing on the success-part. 
I'll tackle the disaster later.
"After all, tommorow is another day."
I'll thank Scarlett O'Hara for giving me permission.

There's something magical about kids and gardens. 
Sharing the moments of wonder that we actually planted something and IT GREW never get old. 
I want my kids to have that memory. 
I want them to want to create those moments with their own families. 

I've made my own memories, too. 
Every morning I've waddled to the garden after my walks . . . or wogs. 
I have LOVED checking our plants, all the while cracking open pea pods and snacking. 
The kids are usually asleep and I have a few moments to myself. 
I'm still nerdy enough to feel surprise that I can eat something we've grown ourselves. 
Go figure, you plant a seed and--HOLY COW--something actually happens!

I know they say, Home is where the heart is, and that's totally true; however, I feel like the Lord has given us a taste of paradise in our little country life.  Who knows if we'll stay here forever (I wish)?  Life is so uncertain, BUT, you better believe that I'm going to suck every last ounce of goodness out of these country roads and quiet, starry nights. 
I don't take it for granted. 
This place has given me time to discover myself. 
It's taught me the value of peace.
Can you feel the gratitude oozing out of my soul? 
No joke, OOZING. 
Okay, maybe oozing isn't the best word choice, but, oh well, I'm having a baby in 4 weeks. 
I deserve a break, right?