A Quiet Day

Today is one of those very rare occassions;

it is a nice, quiet day,

as opposed to our usual nice and loud, busy day. 

Several family members are out and about this weekend, 

leaving me with only 5 children home, 10 yrs and under.

  I chuckle at this, because when I first only had 5 children,

I was almost always overwhelmed with life, and now, 5 seems so simple and quiet.

  It is especially quiet just now since the three youngest 

have made nests here and there to snuggle down for a long winter nap.

Olivia, now still as a bug asleep on my lap, has been especially busy today,

taking dirt out of our poor abused Amaryllis,

strewing an entire package of diaper wipes across the house,

finding herself an arms length of toilet paper and taring it into tiny little pieces,

and attempting to climb just about everything.

  All the time jabbering away in her own little language.

Every once in a while an intelligible word escapes.  I question her and her word,

she grins and giggles, and goes on with her toilet paper.

 Today, I don't mind, as long as she is safe and happy, I will gladly pick it up later.

With cousins here for the weekend to play with, 

the boys have spent much of the day outside, playing games on the frozen pond.

  Rose is babysitting this afternoon,

Anna at a friend's house,

and John has been gone for over two weeks.

  Even daddy is out of town for a few days, so you see, it is strangely still,

and I have endeavored to relax and do nothing,

except the absolutely necessary,

which of course means changing diapers, making and eating cinnamon rolls, and drinking tea.

 

John, you see, is adventuring with a friend out in the wild, trapping for bobcat.  

They have set up camp some hours from here, with 74 miles of trap line. 

Reports are that they are doing fine, with 6 coyotes and 4 bobcat between them thus far. 

They will remain out for another week or two. 

Makes me cold just thinking about it! 

I love the outdoors, but, with nighttime temperatures in the single digits,

I will gladly crawl underneath my down comforter each night in my warm house 

and give thanks that I am not living underneath a tarp.

Happily and contentedly stuck here in the rocker next to the fire,

baby asleep on my lap, with plenty of time to ponder,

I find myself gathering a list of things to be thankful for.

  

There is always something, if one looks.

  Fuzzy socks on cold wood floors,

candles lit on the coffee table-a feast for the eyes,

chubby little fingerprints on the windows, 

a restful day.

All those little things are worth listing, 

just as much as the big ones, 

such as a loving God who has my best interest in mind,

a savior who atoned for me,

a God who forgives again and again, 

a Creator who gives hope to everyone who believes.  

Rocking in the growing darkness, the list goes on and on....