I transplanted some of the Little Man's vegetable plants today. I'd assiduously read the instructions that came with the little seed pods (because I am Type A and a rule follower), and it said to pull up the extras and throw them away, but I couldn't do the throwing away part.

I run intervals once a week at the track near our home. It's interesting running on a track with other people, going around and around the same circle, passing people and being passed.

Last week, Littles and I were reading Dickinson and ran up against her well known, "Hope is a thing with feathers..." and it got me thinking about hope again. This is nothing new. Overthinking the concept of hope is a continual source of mental gymnastics for me.

I never really understood the story of the persistent widow and the unjust judge in Luke 18. I'm not saying I didn't understand it on a surface level. Sure: God wants us to be persistent in our prayers. But I didn't get it get it. You know? It was head knowledge, not heart knowledge.

I planted succulent cuttings yesterday. I have no idea whether or not I did it right, but I'm all for trying new things for which I am totally unqualified. Besides, my word for the year is "flourish", and how can you flourish if you're not surrounded by green things?

"And in every place he abandons he leaves something vital, it seems to me, and starts his new life somewhat less encrusted, like a lobster that has shed its skin and is for a time soft and vulnerable."

E. B. White

Stained glass has always fascinated me. I love the way the light breaks through the colors, stretching different hues across the walls and floor and ceiling.

The concept of quickly passing time has been resonating with me even more as last week we got news of our next duty station. Though orders are not yet in hand and we've known from day one when we'd be moving out, something has shifted and the clock has started ticking, whether I like it or not.

The early morning quiet and the time to pray and the chance to allow my introverted self to start my day with a bit less of a bang is amazing.

When I was staying with one of my favorite aunts before the Man and I got married (she's now the kids' god-Aunt), she and I would make happiness lists on the kitchen chalkboard. Sometimes I like to continue the tradition on my own. It's a good way to get a snapshot of where I am and what I'm finding joy in.

Over the past few weeks, I've begun frequenting a farmer's market in the area. I tote all the kids with me, and we go and buy the essentials: fruit and flowers, with the occasional loaf of bread or vegetable thrown in for good measure.