You Are My Bucket List

A fun thing to do is:

Wait until you’re almost forty, with two kids–teenagers, and start talking to your husband about having more kids.  Remind him how he always said, “Wait until the kids are a little older,” and then say, “The kids are older.”  Start asking him if he likes certain baby names.  Pray that God will help you understand the strange unfulfilled nagging in your heart, and help you understand why you dream of little kids with big, sad, questioning eyes.  Pray that your dreams will step out of your head at night and tiptoe across the pillows and then step down into your husband’s head, so that he can see them too.  Wait.  Tear up a little bit when your husband calls from work and says, “I found a toddler bed on Craigslist for a good deal.  Want to go get it tonight?”

Actual things we have in our house now, that we didn’t a year ago:

P1000055that toddler bed, monkey, banana quilt


P1000045(1)preschool books

P1000043all sorts of wee knitted and sewn stuff

Don’t know where all this will lead.  Just know God is leading me, leading me.  Leading us.  I told my friend last year that I hated that spot on every doctor form that says Mother’s occupation, because I don’t have one.  But I do.  I’m a mom.  I take care of kids.  And I love it.  And I thought for a moment that it all had to come to an end when my kids are grown, but that’s not true.

It is cold and there is snow on the ground, and we are only allowed to miss one session of our foster parenting classes, and a year ago I would not have imagined that tonight my husband and I would be asking God to please help us be able to get down off this mountain tomorrow and make it to class.

A few weeks ago my husband and I were out and about doing errands and we began talking about what we should do for our twentieth anniversary at the end of this year.  I ended up lamenting the fact that we never go anywhere.  (I turn into a person of extremes in arguments.)  At our next stop, I was walking through a store and saw a sign that said You are my bucket list.  And then I was snaking back through the store to where my husband was like, “I looooove youuuuu.  I just want youuuuu.  Only youuuu.  I don’t need to travel.”

It’s true.  This is my bucket list.  This life.  Wherever it leads, it’s mine.


i guess not really about yellow

I’m using a different camera/lens now, and trying it out.  It will take me awhile to get the hang of it all.  I just spoke to my husband on the phone.  His mind is full of software specs and deadlines and algorithms, and he’s driving from one place to another, and he asked me what I’ve been up to today, and I’m like, “Really important stuff, just like your stuff.”

But I was just taking pictures of yellow things.





…and his friends…



Sometimes I feel like God is going to find me out and suddenly take notice of me, here, taking pictures of yellow things in my house on this rutty mountain, knitting and sewing and learnin the kids whilst my good good man works so hard to provide, and be like, “Um, no.  You’re fired.”

So I just say “thank you”, to Him, and to him, as sincerely and as often as I can, and my heart still does that skippy thing in the late afternoon when I hear the rumble of his truck crunching down that last stretch of road to our house, and then the big creaky door opens and there are those blue eyes, and the briefcase gets chucked onto the boot bench, and his arms open up to give me a hug, and he’ll tell me things I can’t tell you–things that are just mine, sorry, and


this was just supposed to be about yellow things.