I have the great fortune to live a short 7 miles from my child hood home. Today’s exercise in gratitude is a thankfulness that my happy childhood home is still a place that I go home to any time I want.
After church I called my mom and asked what was cooking. We get out of church at lunch time and I knew they had dinner guests last night. That means leftovers; very good ones at that.
The house was warm and cozy with a fire roaring in the fireplace in the living room. My mom had thick, salty pieces of last night's ham in a dish on the counter. Yummy crusty rolls, with spicy mustard, and reheated home made chicken noodle soup. Is there any thing better than your own mama's cooking; especially on a damp, cold, New England Sunday?
We all crowded around the round kitchen table to eat together. Diva Child said "Neenee, you always have something for me!" We laughed together between mouth fulls of warm yummy lunch and steaming cups of strong coffee.
As a kid, Sunday's were lazy days at our house. Winter time Sunday's were particularly hedonistic as they involved yummy food, fires, football/basketball watching, and a nap. After lunch today I was instantaneously drowsy; wanting to stretch out on the floor in front of the fire to let my eyes droop to the sounds of whatever the game of the week played in the background.
My parents love our stopping by to be fed. I love that I can do it.
I am so thankful that there is a place I can go, whenever I want, that is as pleasant and warm today, as it was when I was a little girl.
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5 comments:
home is a very good thing - in all its many shapes.
glad you are back to blogging!
as hard as that is for me to read, since i would so desperately love to have that, another part of me is so very glad you and your children DO.
that is so seriously something to be truly grateful for.
What a wonderful blessing you have :)
That made me feel all cozy inside!
Beautiful! Living far away from my parents is one of the things I don't like about the military life. I enjoy the glimpse into your close family.
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