it doesn't matter

It doesn't matter what size you are, but what the size of your heart is.

It doesn't matter what color eyes or skin you have, but whether you can see and feel the pain of someone else.

It doesn't matter how big your house is, but whether you would welcome others in.

It doesn't matter if your outside is beautiful, but if your inside is beautiful as well.

rainy days

Ahhhh, I love these rainy days! When my sister and I were young we used to call rainy days "baggy pants days". I suppose this is because we would put on comfy clothing and get cozy in the warmth of the house with the rain pouring outside.

When my lambs were little I was bound and determined that I was going to make sure they LOVED thunder and lightning as much as I did. When a storm would come I would make a big production out of it. I'd call them to the window and squeal with glee saying, 'look...listen...isn't that fantastic?' Oh, what a glorious show it would be! To my recollection I never had a child run to my bedroom or cower under the covers during a storm so it must have worked.

anysoldier website

The anysoldier website (see link under 'giving') is something I just found out about and is a great resource for those of you who would like to help the men and women serving overseas. The website was designed with the idea of highlighting the needs of the troops. Some of the needs are as simple as Mike & Ikes and microwave popcorn. I would encourage you to check this site out and give as your heart leads.

Grace

Give a lot of love

Add a bunch of grace

Sprinkle on some kindness

Touch the human race

Open up your heart

Share it with a friend

Dive below the surface

Watch a bond begin

Look about your world

Grab those you hold dear

Tell them that you love them

Say it without fear

Seek a child-like joy

Yearn to speak what's true

Find the faith you need

Let it carry you

*******

Penned December 1997

The Flower

There was a garden with flowers of all types and varieties. It was a large, luscious garden brimming with color.

In the midst of the garden, there was a flower like no other.

When the rain would pelt and the other flowers' petals would droop, this flower would stand tall - always anticipating the sun and an end to the stormy weather.

And when the sun would break through and shine on the garden, this flower would look upward, basking in the warmth...gathering strength.

Sometimes winds would blow and the flower's petals would fall. But new petals, yearning for growth, would replace them...creating a fully rounded flower.

The flower trusted and depended on the gardener, listening to his voice and encouraging words. The gardener tended to the flower's every need and the flower brought joy to the gardener.

And when it was time...the gardener visited his garden and with gentle hands he carefully picked the flower. He took it into his home where it became part of a beautiful bouquet.

And the flower lived forever.

Penned 12/98 Dedicated to Mom

bob in afghanistan

this is my brother-in-law who is serving in kabul, afghanistan. the picture was taken during a visit with local refugees.

state fair

well, here i am once again with an online blog. blogs are not easy for someone whose comfort zone is squarely in the realm of 'privacy' especially in regard to personal things, but i do enjoy using this outlet for lighthearted banter...and for reading about all of YOUR deepest thoughts. heh heh.

the state fair is here once again and anyone who knows me well knows that i lovelovelove the state fair. i have been attending the fair every year for most of my life. (i passed the year we took the kids to disneyland, lest their childhood memory confuse disneyland with the state fair. yikes, that would be dreadful). yes, i know it is a dirty mess and that most of the food booths are probably one-health-department-inspection-away from being shut down, but there is just something about the fair!

one of my greatest fair memories occurred when i was about 8 years old. i BEGGED my dad for a monkey-on-a-stick toy the entire time i was at the fair. he kept saying, 'no' and i kept looking at that monkey-on-a-stick with the longing of a dog for a bone. it was late at night, and we were preparing to leave, when my dad took me aside and walked me to the vendor. when he bought me that monkey-on-a-stick i felt unbridled joy and completely loved. is it not amazing what the smallest act of kindness can do?

the fair for me now is much less about the rides and much more about the sights and smells. i love visiting the animals, taking in the art exhibits and buying a cinnamon roll (which i do as a custom once a year).

if you are reading this post...thanks for stopping by. If you have visited the state fair tell me about your favorite memory, too.