I've always had a thing for the whir of a sewing machine. Why? Because my Mom was always sewing. She took in alterations and she was always creating something for us or our home. Always. That noise has the pleasantest connotations for me. Although the sewing machine isn't going as often as I'd like (in THIS season, though I did manage to whip out some fleece neck-warmers for the girlies and the Rugged, Mountain Man yesterday), there are other sounds that make for happy days here...
- The swish-swish of the washer along with the
- Tappety-tap-tap of Blossom1 working on the computer.
- Contented humming and stories of Blossom3 quietly doing puzzles during schooltime...
- Blossom2 talking herself through cursive and
- Baby Blossom gnawing on the coffee table, then squealing and taking off after the next thing.
I'm thankful I'm here to hear them. Thankful that I can be the one wiping the cracker crumbs off Baby Blossom's mouth. Thankful I can be the one applying coconut oil to Blossom3's winter chapped lips. Thankful I can be the one to snuggle with Blossom2. Thankful I can hear the dreams of Blossom.
Just plain thankful.
