My adventure to New York City gave me a new per
spective on the world around me. It's not really a grand discovery, just a fresh way of looking. I'm sure it's related in some way to my list of 1000 Gifts, as well as the cry of the artist buried deep within. Staying in the home of an actual artist contributed greatly, partly because of looking at the world through Danny's eyes, and partly because of his vehement statements that we should avoid the "furniture" section of the art museum at all costs. He was rather disappointed when he found we had toured the furniture section and actually enjoyed it. "You see furniture every day!" he lamented.
I found myself smiling at the thought of this man, a plein aire painter, distressed at our interest in furniture. Of course, my husband builds furniture and he has very little interest in paintings and sculptures. (At this point I was somewhat relieved I was there with Hannah rather than James.) "But you see paintings every day," Hannah replied. I shot her a look and hoped she wouldn't say anything else, but it was true. In his zeal for what he had identified as "art," Danny had failed to see art of another kind.
For the remainder of the trip I found myself looking at the world around me in a new way. "Look, Hannah," I would say as I pointed to an ornate building, "Art!" On our last morning, as I was chasing Hannah through Battery Park, I pointed to a structure and said, "What do you suppose that is?" (I was serious...) She gave me one of those "really Mom?" looks, quipped "Art" and kept on walking. I stopped and snapped a picture.
Halloween, the last night of October. No spooks or goblins knocked on our door this evening, so I guess we'll have to eat the candy ourselves. :)
No temptation has overtaken you except such as is common to man; but God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will also make the way of escape, that you may be able to bear it. 
It was a gorgeously awesome autumn afternoon. Although we were tired and in need of naps, we chose to go out for a drive instead. The farm markets were calling, but, unfortunately, they were calling everyone in western New York. The pumpkin patches and cornstalk teepees were mobbed, not a parking spot in sight, so we drove on past the fall festivities to the fish hatchery at Powder Mills Park.
No small children fell over the edges of the concrete holding tanks today. No dogs ran recklessly through the park. (Now that I think of it, it was a small dog who pushed that little girl in several years ago. He jumped up to say hello and over the edge she went. He daddy hauled her away sopping wet and crying.) 
Out in the fallen leaves, crossing roads and sidewalks, braving dogs, cats, and curious children march the Wooly Bear caterpillars. Wearing fuzzy brown coats trimmed with black, the little creatures scurry along looking for a winter hideout. The Little Man and I found such a fur animal wandering across the driveway on our way in from gathering nuts this week.
N is for nuts, black walnuts in particular.
I had already raked and picked up the nuts that dropped a week or so ago (see here) thinking I would most likely leave the remainder for the local squirrel population. This afternoon I changed my mind. These nuts are a nuisance! I gathered my resolve, along with a wheelbarrow (or two) and a five gallon bucket, and headed out to see what I could do about getting my yard cleaned up.
My adventure to New York City gave me a new per
For the remainder of the trip I found myself looking at the world around me in a new way. "Look, Hannah," I would say as I pointed to an ornate building, "Art!" On our last morning, as I was chasing Hannah through Battery Park, I pointed to a structure and said, "What do you suppose that is?" (I was serious...) She gave me one of those "really Mom?" looks, quipped "Art" and kept on walking. I stopped and snapped a picture.
It is a good thing Leta made pistachio cake and brought ice cream. It is a good thing I saved the pie for the birthday boy instead of serving it up to company. It is probably a good thing I realized before Dave cut into his birthday treat. He's had fair warning. It's too bad one can't salt an already baked pumpkin pie.
M is for monkeys. They live upstairs on my bedroom window sill. They're very quiet so long as I don't disturb them. They're typically well behaved, unless of course I take them out to play.
