The Creek With a Sunset

It’s pretty hectic around here lately. We got our lake house listed with the real estate company a few weeks ago, and since then, I’ve been working on getting our “house” house ready to “get ready” to sell.

Wow! That’s a mouthful! Basically, I’ve been about knee high in stuff. Sorting toys, cleaning closets, making bags for donations, packing, etc. All the normal things that go along with moving.

Today a nice gentleman came and cleaned our carpets and tomorrow my parents are coming to help us paint. The days sure seem overloaded in busy.

But, even in the middle of busy, Little Bit and I have been going to check on the tadpoles. Every few days we drive over to look at them and see if they’ve grown legs.

As of two nights ago, not yet. They still seem quite happy swimming about in their giant puddle. The days have been kind to them and recent rains have kept their home in a decent supply of water.

While there, I am instantly reminded why I feel such a draw to nature. Maybe it’s the simplicity in the way the sounds and colors lend calm even in chaos. Nature puts even the longest to-do lists in their place.

Our upcoming move is starting to get real these days. I feel pretty lucky that even on days filled with have-to-do’s, there’s sort of a mini vacation nearby, at  the creek with a sunset. 


First Signs of Spring

I like the idea that winter is a time for nesting and resting, but I’ve got to be honest with you, I’m kind of in love with the fact that March, April, and May have come in and set down their bags. 

It’s almost like the earth sings in spring. Color shows up with bells on, moods lighten, and on the farms, all the babies arrive. 

Seems like with all the newness, braveness and courage sneak in, too. 

Yesterday we completely stepped out of our comfort zone. A homeschool coop hosted an Easter egg hunt at a park in the next town over. An event where we knew no one. At. All. 


As we walked towards the pavilion filled with families, I looked over at my Little Bit. We were both nervous. About two seconds later, I felt my stomach flip. 

Then suddenly, an unexpected thought came to mind:

Everyone is new once. 

Every. One. Each calf born on the farm, each bud on the dogwood tree, every butterfly that emerges, each family that walks into a new church or play group, and every kindergartener on the first day of school. 

Everyone starts somewhere. 

So, I took a deep breath and a few steps later, we walked into that pavilion. 

Guess what happened! 

Just like the calves, flowers, families, and kindergarteners,  we were met with smiles and warm welcomes in this season of grace. 

I hope that if you have any chance for something new, that you will take it. 

Be that first timer. And then, when it’s someone else’s turn to go first, let’s welcome them like we welcome the first signs of spring. 

Weathered Gray

Although we didn’t have as bad a winter as they’d called for, I’ll sure be glad if spring ever stakes its claim. 

Right now we seem stuck between the two seasons: wearing shorts one day, long underwear the next. 

And, the recurrent theme right now? 

No sun. 

The color of the days falls somewhere in the midst of charcoal smeared with a smidgen of white. 

Yuck. That gets old. 

Something really cool happened a few days ago. We found a place that is the perfect cross between where black and white feel quite at home.

About forty miles from here is a seed farm that is bathed in old fashioned. As soon as our truck door opened, we stepped back into the 1800’s. 

The “town” consists of a blacksmith shop, apothecary, seed store, barn, and a restaurant. 

While bits of color were sprinkled here and there, I was reminded that there is an absolute beauty in weathered gray. 

Days Gone By

We live in an area that’s rich in history. A lot of pioneers settled in these hills in the 1800’s and Laura and Almanzo Wilder were among them. 

Yesterday we went to see Rocky Ridge, the home where Laura Ingalls Wilder wrote her Little House books. 

We’ve been there before a few times, but this year there is a new visitors center, gift shop, and museum, so that was quite a treat. 

There’s something comforting about being on their land. It’s kind of a cross between feeling completely “at home” at a grandmother’s house, mixed with the nostalgia of stories that seem to come to life while looking around the property. 

Just being there, I can picture the scenes from the Rose Years books. Can you imagine Abe and Swiney traipsing through the woods and Alva and Effie living back in those hills? 

Right now their yard is blanketed in yellow and white wildflowers and there is a dogwood tree blooming. Spring is so beautiful in the Ozarks. 

After our tours, we stopped at a park that’s across the street from a bank that opened in 1892. 

It’s pretty neat to stand under those oak trees and imagine the wagons and train whistles of long ago, during those days gone by. 

Symphony at Sunset

Tuesday we met the realtors at our lake property. After they left, I had a few things to finish up, so my husband and Little Bit left for home before I did. 

When my chores were done, I went down to the lake to catch the last rays of the day. 

As soon as I got out of my truck, I heard some movement in the water, followed by “someone” clearly giving me a piece of  their mind. 


Evidently, they weren’t in the mood for company, which is fine. I mean, who could blame them? It’s so quietly beautiful down there.  

They were probably pretty happy with me. I didn’t hang around very long. In fact, I only stayed long enough to hear their symphony at sunset.