Faith Never Failing

Today was laundry day. This fact is evident by the jeans I'm wearing- bought at the beginning of eighth grade, the bottoms torn and tripping me as I stride through the grocery store. The fact that I used a t-shirt to dry my face this morning? That just drives it home- It was most definitely laundry day. I enjoy the smell of tide. I like hanging my shirts to dry, the way my room perforates downy for the entirety of the day. I like pulling the clothes out while the dryer is still running, folding them still hot, and tucking them into the deep drawers of my antique dresser, still warm and free of creases. I iron Kade's button down shirts and hang them on crocheted hangers, ready for anything. Doing laundry is bliss to me, the perfect way to start a day like this one.
There is, of course, an ebb and flow. Yesterday, I was full of doubt, today I feel like a floating free spirit. I knew that was going to happen. God has these funny ways of nudging me along, reminding me always that right around the corner is something new.
I'd like to add here that I'm still in the middle of an infuriating writing funk- it happens.
I'm looking forward to the next month: a new beginning, more time for sewing, simplicity at it's finest. The hustle and bustle that has been my life the past year is being overshadowed by a revolutionary idea: Slow the heck Down. Have you ever tried observing things as if you had opened your eyes for the first time? For example, Kade always observes things with a fascination that I crave. He intently stares at objects (old or new), wants to know the texture, if it makes noise, how it works, the each and every cog and wire that fabricates whatever whatcha-ma-callit he's got in his little fingers. When did we lose that passion? Perhaps, as we get older, we get so accustomed to things, ideas, thoughts, that we don't appreciate them anymore. Sound familiar? I don't want to do that anymore. I want to wrap a quilt around my shoulders and appreciate every thread holding it together, I want to smell it, to note the way it lays, stiff or soft. I want to finger paint. Sound crazy? It might be- but when was the last time you dipped your hands into a deep plastic cup of paint and went nuts on a piece of construction paper? These things keep us young.

Be barefoot, forget to brush your teeth sometimes, drink your coffee as sweet as you like it- with real sugar. If I see splenda in your hand, you'll be scolded sister. Make a crown from flowers and twigs. Go swimming in the river. Or, if your really desperate, do them all, at once. If that's what it takes to get a little spring back in your step, then please, for the love of Pete, DO IT.

My day was overflowing with good vibe, ebb and flow type stuff. Kade and I joined my Mama for lunch, snow flurried down as we indulged on Mormon Muffins and roamed through the shops. I bought fabric to make Kade a new bedding set. I bought valentines. I went to the grocery store and filled my cart with fresh fruit and a bottle of laundry detergent (needed after how much laundry I did this morning). Birthday cards for my brother and sister lay on the desk, anxiously awaiting a kind, sincere message to be scrawled across their textured insides. I seized the day, Kade's yellow raincoat was removed and replaced so many times his head was spinning. We were in, we were out. We were happy campers.

To make up for yesterdays disaster of a diet, Chef Kade made dinner tonight. Tortellini, sweet potatoes and chicken. He was in heaven.

We used the "Good China." 

 

I also turned this: 

  

into this: 

Hallelujah! We're getting closer. 

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Kade didn't want his picture taken today. He was a ball full of energy, but when the camera came on, he was a turtle in his shell. Stop it, Moooom.