a good way to spend a life
Yesterday was this girl's fifth birthday, I can't believe I have a five year old and to celebrate we put on our new pink cowgirl boots and horse shirt and went to the farm to ride horses.
The day was just right. There were plenty of animals to feed and puppies to hold, and a bakery with giant cookies to eat at the end. (Local people, if you haven't been to Hershberger's in Charm yet, you must go! I think it is by far the least expensive animal place, but still lots to see and do- unfortunately the farm part closes up at the end of this month, so go quick!)
We took a buggy to the pumpkin patch driven by a grandfatherly Amish man with a kind voice and sparkly eyes- one of those people with a constant grin right under the surface, you just have to love him instantly. He was sweet to the kids and taught them how to whistle to make the horse stop or go. He pointed across the fields to a big white farmhouse and said that is where he was married forty-five years ago. Sparkly eyes. Swoon.
He said that the farm would be closing up soon, so he'll have more time to spend in his woodshop and catch-up on his woodworking. I said that sounds like a nice way to spend the winter, and his eyes sparkled and he said that it is, and when it gets too cold he takes his work in the house to whittle in the kitchen where it is warm near the fire, and where he can watch the birds.
Sigh. I think that is all I'd like out of life, too. A warm kitchen, to work with my hands and watch the birds all winter. It sounds like a good life.
Here are some other good things to do with your one wild and precious life:
Holding Evangelism and Social Action in Tandem
An Invitation to Redemption
Truth About Chocolate- what's really evil about Halloween. (Ouch).
the Mattenleys in Haiti- Friends of mine who lived in Haiti when I was there are now back. I love these people.
on Money . . .
I began to realize the stuff I spent money on indicated the stories I was living. By that I mean the stuff I spent money on was, in many ways, the sum of my ambitions. And those ambitions weren’t the stuff of good stories. -Quote by Donald Miller, at small notebook