Stories told on porches in the night are the food that feeds our souls. A porch is a stepping off place, where girls kiss their parents goodbye and disappear into an adventure,where moms wait to hear their stories when they come home.It' a place where laughter drowns out the crickets, where friends become family. C'mon up to my porch, pull up a chair and tell me your story. We'll weave it into the quilt that wraps us up when life is cold.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Getting the Tree
Tom saw this tree growing out of a crack in the sidewalk. "It wanted to live so bad", he said. He pulled it up, put it in a put and loved it. Now it's our outside tree!