Every one should have an old truck and an old tractor. One needs an old tractor that makes a cool sound. A sound that can drowned out the noise of big problems. A sound that rocks you back to a better time, a bit of a time out. I love to drive it about like a boy on a big tonka truck. An old truck is better than a new one. New ones are to big and to posh. You can't hose out new truck when they get mud in them. One needs a truck that can take a scratch, a bit of mud in or out. An old truck makes for a bigger adventure. The road seem longer, the bumps seem more in number and yes bigger. Old trucks are comforting like a broke in chair verse a couch you can't eat on.

Wow its been a year sense I have posted ant thing. Mostly because I have suffered identity loss (That where one cannot remember their password). I have plans for more posts.

Little Bit

Little Bit

Little feet in big shoes.
Little busy no time to lose.
Little prints on clean glass.
Little legs running fast.
Little toes skipping across the floor.
Little sneak going out the door.
Little body pushing to see.
Little questions next to me.
Little messes every where he goes.
Little fun stealing his nose.
Little ears hear what I say.
Little words come back each day.
Little voice in nightly prayer.
Little heart with love to spare.

Love a little louder

Earlier this week Jens woke up and crawled in bed with Terri and said " I love you Mom".
Terri responded in a morning whisper "I love you Jens".
"Mom " says Jens "Do you think you can love me louder?"
I think there is something profound in that.

Shores

If the world was mine, each home would have a shore, to sail to and from.

A Port busy with the coming and goings of families and friends. Friendships new and loves old as the world.

Each treasure that passes never forgotten nor neglected.

An ever expanding web of Love and care.

Each its own to come and go, but always to return someday triumphant in glory to share the adventure.

Never staying away until hearts break but always returning to warm them.

Stories of battles won, and stories of battles lost, but wounds heal at the port so another voyage can begin.

We go from one port to another all connecting old and new.

New ports and homes to go and come from until they are old, and full of tales.

Can your Dad come out and play?

 We have made some new friends. Across the way is a young family having a boy Lars's age, and even in his own class. Lars invited himself to be friends and the next thing you know Becca and Lars go play there often. Just this week I thought it would be fun to play catch with them, so I grabbed my mitt and joined the bunch. Today after work there came a knock at the back door. It was Sebastian Lars's friend from across the street. Can Rebbecca and her Dad come out and play? he asked. Wow I felt wanted.

Jens Yard

Jens has a back yard which he has clammed as his own. He spends much of his days out in the back yard. He has fun on the slide left by the previous owners. He also loves to dig in the dirt. He has found every little thing there is to find. Jens also likes to go to the wood fence and work the neighbors three dogs into a frenzy. This past week was one of good weather. It allowed Jens to start a tan. If you look close at our roof you can see the bundles of shingles. Marv the roofer took advantage of the good days to put a new roof on our house.

Yyesterday was a warm morning and as the day progressed a cold wind came in. I kept looking around to see if there were any dead people. Ya know like the movie. And as the sun went down the flakes of snow began to fall. We went from sixty something to thirty something in a few hours.

We had been using the grill but as you can see we won't use it tonight. 

Jens chose not to play outside today.