I’m reading Shannon Ables’ Choosing the Simply Luxurious Life and at the above-mentioned sentence, I had to stop and share.
I can relate. I had so many ideas for what to do with today, “something truly meaningful,” I prayed to God. And then I wrote down the three things that would, I thought, be truly meaningful. But thanks be to God, He, as usual, has a better idea.
So, here I sit before the fireplace, with the wood popping madly as the wind blows the snow horizontally outside, and I’m smelling John’s baking “chicken/turkey/bacon” enchiladas. I’m ready for them, having only partaken today of a glass of Moscato, some Trader Joe’s peanut butter cups, and a cup of New Mexico Pinon coffee with plenty of organic heavy whipping cream – that shared first thing this morning with my gem of a son, Seth.
As Seth made the coffee in the beautiful French press (present from him for Christmas – lovely deep red in color), I prayed that another gem of a son, Benjamin who is in Kuwait, would call. I dressed in favorite old jeans and a marvelously comfy sweater and sat quietly, and when the phone rang I knew it was him. A truly meaningful day, and it’s only just begun.
I first opened my eyes this morning to the rocks on the bluff gleaming gold, and diamonds in the snow. But by the time I finished a long and lovely chat with my son, the sky was threatening snow big time.
It was a good day, I reckoned, to visit the post office, pick up the mail, and send cards and letters. I wrote what I believe is a fun letter to a dearly beloved young man who is in prison, and tucked it inside a small package along with Louis L’Amour’s Ride the River, which is about Echo Sackett. I covered the package with real stamps (more romantic than stickers) and got a special “Love” stamp for the fun greeting card I also put in the mail today.
We, my Valentine John and I, went next to the Library – they had called and said I had books in!!! It was a lovely stack: Through the French Door by Carolyn Westbrook, Really Rural by Marie-France Boyer, Fight Like a Girl by Lisa Bevere, The Tutor’s Daughter by Julie Classen, and finally, Shannon Ables’ Choosing the Simply Luxurious Life, to which I plan to return right after those enchiladas . . .
Later in the Truly Meaningful day
The enchiladas were EXACTLY the thing for a cold February day in the Rockies, and I made for sure and for certain the cook knew he was appreciated. Hugs and kisses and thanks and more thanks. “Yum, oh, yum, you must remember exactly what you put in these,” etc. (It’s not Valentine’s Day, it’s Valentine’s week at our house).
And now I’m back to what makes any day truly worthwhile: a good book. I must pick up where I left off: “And so I began to dance with my life . . .”