Postcards From Rutsville........................

Hey.

It's me. Heather.

I've been on a little roadtrip. To Rutsville. Anybody been there? Just past Ebb (of Ebb and Flow fame.) Taking a right at the 4 way stop going to Frustration and Anxiety.

I'm planning a return trip.

There's just been a lot of layovers and pit stops.

Good thing I've got the Navi in my van. To take me back to Joy and Peace.

Oh, and good thing there is Ikea to dream about organization. And a new iMac on its way here. And good thing there is Diet Coke and Hot Tamales. And So You Think You Can Dance. And John L. Scott real estate website where one can get lost in square footage, master suites and landscaped backyards. And good thing there are super cute kids that say ridiculous things to make me smile, and who dance, and who sing Christmas Carols while I accompany them on the piano.

And mostly good thing there is understanding that sometimes you inspire others, and sometimes you get to be inspired. Sometimes you make the creations, and other times you get to copy. Sometimes you tell the jokes, and other times you sit back and laugh. Sometimes you take pictures, and other times you leave the camera at home. Sometimes you are the writer, and sometimes you get to take time out to just read.

And good thing there is faith that a little girl who had a rough start to first grade can eventually soar. And faith that little blonde girl was sent to your family to be a peacemaker. And faith that a little boys, (who really is little) can be perfectly normal even in his small stature. And faith that just because there were struggles, and needs for peacemaking, and itty bits of growth, it doesn't mean that the mother is failing.

It just means that she is learning.

{Oops. My one and only shot of the 3 of them all costumed.}
{And it's not even my porch}

{A most treasured collections of bits and finery that my children gathered for me.}
{Happy Me.}

P.S. You still with me? Good. Then go here and read this post. I really wanted to copy it and make it my own. But those stupid, dumb scruples.