“Hope” is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops - at all - And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard - And sore must be the storm - That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm - I’ve heard it in the chillest land - And on the strangest Sea - Yet - never - in Extremity, It asked a crumb - of me. ~Emily Dickinson I love a new notebook: lined or gridded, sketchbook, or thick watercolor paper, a planner or just fresh, blank pages. I do a lot of writing, and a new notebook and a good pen is always the best part of a project. Together the pen and notebook represent the launch of something new; the anticipation of success. In fact I love new notebooks so much that I bought too many and now I am not allowed to buy any more. This is my own rule and I have only myself to blame. I get really excited about the new thing, but my enthusiasm wanes and the notebooks sit abandoned with only a f...
Thoughts on food and drink for body and spirit.
I wish I'd been to YOUR cookie exchange! Ours was a little disappointing ... yours looks absolutely mouth-watering. :)
ReplyDeleteWell,it wasn't really MY cookie exchange. I just showed up with gingerbread angels. This exchange is a second annual, and before that another family in the same neighborhood hosted one for several years.
ReplyDeleteApparently it was hosted by three sisters, who finally gave it up because they couldn't deal with combined party planning. I nodded knowingly when one of this year's hosts told me that, but she said "I just don't get it." I asked if she had sisters. She said no. I said "That's why you don't get it."