Enjoying the Small Things

Does anyone else here read Kelle's blog? If not, you should.

My mom pointed the way last spring when they were visiting Naples, FL, and saw an article in the local paper about her. Mom kept asking me if I had found the blog, if I had read it, and I never found the time. Until one day, when I was substitute teaching and had two planning breaks back to back, and I got bored with my book and decided to google it.

Oh my!  I was so sucked in!  I was subbing for that same teacher for four days, and by the end of the job I had read all the way back to the beginning of the blog, back before Nella.

And now, when a new post pops up in my reader, I save it for last.  I save it because I know I'm going to want to take my time and because I know I'm going to need a moment to collect myself when I'm done.  There is no reading Kelle's post and then moving along to planting bulbs or the perfect slow cooker stew.  Uh uh.

Not much makes me cry anymore.  I'm a pretty jaded old gal, and I've seen a lot of things in this world.  But these posts almost always get me.  I feel the tears welling and I'm just done.  Not sad tears, although sometimes her beautiful pictures of Lainey and Nella make me wistful for this little girl:

No, the tears are tears of appreciation and acknowledgment for the truth behind Kelle's words.  They always make me stop and, as they are meant to, enjoy the small things in my life.  Like rainy days when practice is canceled and we have time for a real dinner as a family.  Or Sunday afternoons in front of the football game.

And sometimes, every so often, she spurs me into action.  That's what happened today.  I was behind on my reading when Grace asked if she could shoot hoops before studying for her Social Studies test.  I gave her 15 minutes, and decided to catch up on my reader.  I like to be in the office so I'm right by the front door, because my girl is getting grown up but not so big that I want her all alone in the front yard while I'm vacuuming, you know?

I cleared out all of the home improvement and quilting posts, and finally clicked on Kelle's.  When I read this one, I just stopped.  And suddenly, without thinking too much about it, I grabbed my camera and the jeans quilt and walked out into the yard to sit with her and talk while she shot baskets.

It was more than 15 minutes.

I refueled.

Find your fuel today.