Monday at Mama's

  

Mama's house has become my Monday sewing place.  She graciously offered her home and help with babies and food so I could get a few of those all-consuming sewing projects worked on.  It was Pa's birthday this Monday, and we stayed for supper.  Mama and I got to walk to our sweet drug store, the babies both had a nap, Olivia baked, Ben was home and Will came later, and of course there was tea and sweaters. 

Greta got to make frosting for Pa's German chocolate cake with Auntie Livi.  Oh, how happy that made her!

   

Lovely sister, chopping walnuts

 

Oh the joy of baking with Auntie!

 

A happy birthday cake for Pa ~'::

Mr. Yummy, tired & teething

 A few more of the beauties of Mama's house, supper ready and waiting for the guys to come home~

  

Afternoon beauties ::'~ 3.3.11

 

 

 {clean sheets, sleeping baby}

 {almost three}

{late-winter color therapy}

  

{newly acquired friends}

   

{best friends} 

 

{cheeks and toes that I love to squish}

  

{thermos to keep tea hot, oatmeal to make granola}

{a fire in the wood stove and great fireplace gloves to work it with} 

Daddy's little snow buddy

in memoriam eggorum

The last of the fresh farm eggs.  We have enjoyed them!

snippets

  a shelf for my books



happy boy

pasta bits for soup

busy sewing machine

my beloved Dansko shoes

If thou indeed derive thy light from Heaven,
Then, to the measure of that heaven-born light,
Shine, Poet! in thy place, and be content: —
The stars pre-eminent in magnitude,
And they that from the zenith dart their beams,
(Visible though they be to half the earth,
Though half a sphere be conscious of their brightness)
Are yet of no diviner origin,
No purer essence, than the one that burns,
Like an untended watch-fire on the ridge
Of some dark mountain; or than those which seem

Humbly to hang, like twinkling winter lamps,
Among the branches of the leafless trees.
All are the undying offspring of one Sire:
Then, to the measure of the light vouchsafed,
Shine, Poet! in thy place, and be content.

~William Wordsworth