Little Love Notes

Dickens had it right when he pointed out that the best of times and the worst of times can-- and often do-- coexist in a perplexing way. The last few months appear to illustrate this as our bills pile up, our bank account bounces and work refuses to materialize over the horizon. Yet conversely, J and I feel an overwhelming sense of peace when we pray about the future. {Unfortunately, that peace doesn't seem to preclude our stress from mounting as circumstances continue to deteriorate, but that feels like a personal weakness.}

I've decided to focus on the positive today. To see the silver lining: the best of times amid the worst. To that end, here are a few happy little love notes to the good things in my life:

Dear Baby Sway,
Thank you arriving safe and sound. I adore your sleepy eyes and your long fingers. I'm so glad I get to be an Auntie again and can't wait to send you polka-dotted dresses and sweet little booties. :)

Dear Peach Blossoms,
Your very presence signals the start of spring and makes me smile. I'm eager to dig my hands into the fragrant earth, plant seeds and nurture the newly budding greenery all around. Peach pie sounds mighty good as well.

Dear Justin Timberlake and Franz Ferdinand,
When I started listening to you {instead of podcasts of This American Life} my running pace improved significantly. I humbly admit that your music is not just noise. Thanks for the natural high.

Dear Art Supplies,
I've been staring at you all weekend, alternately inspired and intimidated. I'm plunging headlong into you this week and the fear is exhilarating.

Dear Jillian Michaels,
Your shredding leaves me cursing your name every morning. But in a good way. I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe.

Dear Wood Floors,
After mopping you yesterday, I was reminded of how glad I am that you are not carpet. I wish I could extend you to the rest of the house. You rock.

Dear Chickens,
Now that the daylight hours are getting longer, you've started laying eggs once more. I'm so grateful for the lovely green and brown shells and the bright yellow yolks. Pets that earn their keep are the best.

Dear Jar of Chocolate Chips,
Anytime I feel overwhelmed, I dip into your semi-sweet goodness. I love you. I hate you. I love you.

Dear Handful of Change,
I dug you out of the recesses of my purse and plan to use you to pay for 15 minutes with the industrial vacuum cleaner at the car wash. It may not sound like a big deal, but a spotless minivan goes a long way toward soothing my mind.

Dear CrockPot,
I dumped a bunch of frozen chicken breasts, a bottle of liquid smoke, some italian dressing and brown sugar into you and let it simmer for 24 hours. The resulting deliciousness has convinced both J and I that perhaps I really can cook. Oh, you devil, you!

Dear Visiting Teacher,
Thank you for the chicken breasts. J is so happy that we're not pseudo-vegetarians now, and once again I'm touched by how much I love and can count on friends.

xoxo
-Me

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