“There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”
~~Albert Einstein

With gratitude for your support for the past 22 years. We wish you a life filled with miracles.
The Bures Family

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/?græt??tud, -?tyud/ Show Spelled[grat-i-tood, -tyood] –noun the quality or feeling of being grateful or thankful

This is a word I think of often these days of reflection.  Days thinking about those we’ve lost, and what we’ve gained.   This will be the first Thanksgiving without my beloved mother-in-law, she who said that the turkey wasn’t done until it fell off the bone; and who made the pies and strudels for dessert. It will be a day without our children, one of whom will be finishing her studies in NYC; the other will be with friends in Kansas City.

We will be serving memories next Thursday, with a side of gratitude, and reflection for dessert.   Let me know if you’d like to join us. There will be plenty of room at the table.

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(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

ee cummings

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It is Spring. The birds singing; the quality of the light; buds swelling on the old apple tree outside my kitchen window—-all these things are reminders that there is a cyclical nature to our lives and the lives around us. The goldfinches are sporting yellow feathers; each breeding male hoping each female will see his coat as the one for her. The cats are losing their winter coats and bulk. This was a long winter, and they needed it all.

The chickens. Bless the chickens and the eggs they are giving us, and the manure that will help our garden grow. I am grateful for their clucks and sounds that let me know they are there.

Two of the dogs have had their Spring grooming. No more winter dirty dog smell. Lily the Toy Poodle will be next—when the weather warms up a bit. Lily is really a farm dog. She has no idea she is small, tipping the scales at 8 pounds. She has herded the chickens and taken on the cats.Then she curls up in a little ball and goes to sleep.

And #1 daughter has been home this week, gracing our lives with her presence. It has been a good week, full of conversation and relaxation. We’ll be leaving for the airport soon. It is a bittersweet time for both of us.

Seeing my children grow and spread their wings reminds me that we, as parents, are really gardeners. We create as rich an environment as we can, providing love and care. We place the seedlings in what we hope is the best place, letting them harden off before we put them outside to grow on their own. We do the very best we can with the tools and information we have at any given time. But we don’t make them grow. They do that all by themselves. It is an amazing process to share. And for that, too, I am grateful.

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Today is sunny and very cold. I always forget how penetrating March cold is………..until March. I am drinking my morning cuppa watching the birds gobble seed and suet at the feeders. Soon I’ll be off to the local ski lodge for #2 daughter’s ski and snowboarding club. It’s near the end of the season around here and today will be pizza for all. This is my last year as the adviser of the ski club. I am grateful that I have had the opportunity to share the time with such a fine group of folks.

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The day was a good one, with people picking up orders and just stopping by to say hello. There is something special about being in a place for a while—and we have been in Peninsula for 20 years. Folks know us, they ask about our family, and we ask about theirs.

At the end of the day, we stopped at a friend’s to have a glass of wine and some cheese and fruit. Then off to the grocery store–we got there 10 minutes before they closed—to get a few things.

Christmas morning was cold and dry. The ground was frozen so there was no mud. We are beyond the days where we had to tell our children that they couldn’t wake us until it was light outside. We were up and on our second cup of coffee well before our daughters emerged from their rooms. The magic of Christmas morning is different from the way it was in years past, but it is still magic.

#2 daughter and I made pita bread for the first time. She made falafel and a delicious cucumber yogurt sauce to take over the stream and through the woods to Grandma’s house. We shared sandwiches, veggies, and other munchies. A pot of coffee graced the table. Grandma had made her fruitcakes, strudel, mince pies and peanut butter pie for #2.

Home for the evening, quietly enjoying the time together. Grazing, watching a move, and my fingers tappity tapping the keys. A good day.

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