The sunrise this morning was amazing. I didn't even bother to try to capture it on a mere camera. It was clearly meant to be enjoyed by God-created lenses and not disrupted by a frantic search for a camera or iPhone. (Who am I kidding? My iPhone was and always is in my hand.) I [...]
Author: Susan Wheeler Smith
December 30, 2019.
This really is my favorite time of the year. That magical time of year where the hustle leading up to Christmas Day is over. The tree is still up and, this year at least, really could stay up the entire 12 Days of Christmas because we picked a good one at the tree farm. The [...]
Standing in the overwhelm.
Standing in the overwhelm. I dreamt during the night that I stood in the middle of chaos and overwhelm. It was more a feeling and less a look but if I had to describe it, I would say a swirling mass of grey and black smoke that made it impossible to breathe. I woke up, [...]
September 10, 2019. Thirty-six years.
Thirty-six years married to this guy. Thirty-six years ago, he showed up at the church five minutes before our ceremony. In cowboy hat and boots. My mother had been saying for an hour, “he’s not coming, Sue.” I knew he was coming. When we met at the front altar, I whispered to him, “where have [...]
August 6, 2019.
Hey Friends. This has been my view for a week or so now. I’ve been working on websites, organizing my life, journaling, and eating Oui yogurt. (TMI but the dairy is killing me, so this is the last one for a while.) That’s my life right now, so nice chatting with you okay bye. I [...]
July 28, 2019. Self-Care.
It is a beautiful July Saturday morning. We don’t describe July mornings as beautiful much around here in Virginia. I am taking advantage of the cooler temps and lower (for now) humidity and am writing on The Porch. Self-care. I suck at it, to be honest. I’m usually more about self-destruct. Or self-sabotage. As I’m [...]
July 24, 2019.
I brought these cookbooks home from mom’s last weekend. While it’s true that I am a notorious book girl, these three books are special. They belonged to my grandmother, her sister, and their mother. Familiar handwriting fills recipe cards and notes tucked into two of the books. My grandmother’s and my great-aunt. My great-grandmother died [...]
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