It was a marvelous little weekend here. We took the two older boys to their first Michael Franti & Spearhead concert, and they were so very happy (and I swear, as the years roll by, that man's energy just grows and grows...I wanna be like that). I finished a long-on-the-needles sweater (more on that soon, naturally). And I rediscovered my love of making (okay, really, eating) jam tarts. Not to mention all the regular and good good family fun, lots of kitchen dancing, and a very respectable amount of progress on outside projects.
But I would be fooling no one if I didn't admit that the highlight of the past few days was really THIS moment:
Friends...we have heat! Honest to goodness, winter-like-I-know-it-to-be, wood heat. (Oh! And Jotul comes from Norway, not Sweden. I stand corrected.)
(Wanna see the same space two months ago?) A week ago, even with what we had already done, this room felt like a shell of a room, and each time I walked through it, I was reminded of all the things it still needed - some rugs, a whole mess of curtains, art on the walls, a few more places to sit, a re-do of the hearth, a new light fixture, and a piano that I can't seem to find. Oh yeah, and all that trim and crown molding that's missing.
But now? Suddenly the heart(h) of our family is right here...and so are we and everything we do. When all of us are here together, I am exciting about the coming season, and full of gratitude. For there are the six of us, a whole pile of books, a mountain of yarn, and a big stack of records to play on that new/old stereo.
All is well. (And warm!)
