When my mother-in-love passed away eight years ago, we spent some time with my father-in-law, helping go through her things. Even though we feel we lost her way too early, she had a lifetime of clothes, craft supplies, Bible class curriculum, and dishes built up. I saved back a few pieces of jewelry, some of her craft items I thought we might want to use later, and some of her Bible class stuff. I also inherited several pairs of her shoes.
But then we discovered an unfinished quilt top.

Everyone told me that life goes fast when you have kids. And I believed them. After all, things have felt faster every year of my life--even before having children. But I don't think I realized they meant it would move more like light speed.
Facebook loves to show me photos I posted in years past, ones of my children as babies. Or even before. And most of it makes me go "aww," or laugh out loud at the fun memories. But it also feels like just yesterday instead of almost a decade ago that we had a baby. Now, we're getting into the pre-teens with my daughter and the ornery stage with my nine-year-old son. It's a whole different kind of being kept on our toes. But it's still going fast.

Lots of Christmas trees are decorated beautifully, done up in a theme, color-coordinated and practically perfect. I don't want a tree like that. Ours is covered in handmade ornaments the kids have brought home through the years (and a possibly a few from our own childhood). we have ornaments that commemorated something that happened that year. Or contain photos from events--like the one I made this year that has a picture of us driving a covered wagon from our trip over the summer. 
Is our tree perfect? Definitely not. The kids put all the ornaments on and there are definite spaces where more ornaments cluster together than others. The tree itself is twenty-one years old and losing needles like crazy--plus a few branches. And I don't think I got the lights hung evenly.
But you know? It's okay. Because it has nostalgia.

I can't remember when I quit believing in Santa (honestly, I don't think I have completely). It took me a while, though, because the magic of it all was so strong.
Needless to say, it was exciting when I had kids and could start the tradition with them, picking out fun items to fill stockings, making sure they got a picture with the man in red each year. But this year, they're eleven and nine, and while they still assure me they believe, some of the magic is starting fade.

A friend and I are both participating in a consignment sale next week. We're encouraging our children to go through their toys and see if we can pare down some before Christmas brings even more. Unsurprisingly, my children only brought out a few little things.
She has a fun plan where she keeps some of their toys packed away and then switches what they have out after a few months so that the toys they haven't been playing with feel new again. It never ceases to amaze me how I think I can get rid of something and then my children will suddenly uncover it and start wanting to play with it. It had bene so long that it felt new to them.

Years ago, I worked at a summer day camp outside of Austin, TX. It was fun but exhausting and I based the camp in Faith and Hope on my experience there.
One of the counselor nights, where we all got to go hang out at camp without kids and play around with the different areas ourselves, I decided to try the climbing tower and zip line. I was in much better shape back then than I am now, but still not as strong as I thought I was. I did make it to the top, though the guys up there had to pull me a bit to get me over the edge.
Then, I buckled in and sat at the precipice to do the zip line.

Temperatures in Tennessee have dropped this week. It's glorious! But it also means it's finally the end of gardening for this year. 
All I've been picking the last few weeks has been tomatoes and okra. And a few peppers. The green beans, squash, cucumbers, and other veggies had already given up over a month ago.
But, as I glanced at the greenery popping up amid my composting, I had to laugh.

For the last few years, my family has participated in a program called Lads to Leaders. It encourages children to hone their skills needed as they grow so they can be leaders in the church in the future. We have insisted our son participate in Song Leading the last few years because up until now, he hasn't had to do anything but get up and start the song. Well, he's in third grade this year, and that means the requirements are a little more. He needs to add in the hand motions too.

Saturday was set to be a busy one. My husband was gone all day at a Quiz Bowl tournament for school. My son had a soccer game at 10:30. My daughter and I were attending a ladies' tea at 2, with the son off to stay with a friend. Everything was scheduled and set, ready to go.
​Only one problem.

Do you make it hard for your significant other to make grand gestures? What do I mean by that? Well, my friend Barbara Britton is here to chat today about how she has made romance hard on her husband. See if you agree.

​When I thought about what to write for Amy’s blog, I realized that I have sabotaged my husband’s romantic notions in recent years. I didn’t do this intentionally, but I had to laugh when deciding on a romantic event.
We adopted a stray cat a few years ago. My son had rescued the kitten, and he needed to find a home for the lost waif. My husband and I took the cat, and she is now a spoiled feline that runs the household. Ginger finds flowers a challenge. She will jump on counters to get to them and usually topples the vase. She enjoys eating flowers and leaves, which means the carpet needs a cleaning when Ginger gets sick to her stomach. Flowers usually end up in the bathroom where we can close the door and keep them safe. The flowers make for a festive toilet experience, but the ambience doesn’t scream romance.