It amazes me how ordinary life is and how the ordinary things can bring joy. When I was young, I wanted to travel the world and live an adventure. I was going to change the world, save it, and along the way soak up everything I possibly could.
Well, here I sit. Wednesday morning. In the middle of the United States. Drinking tea. Worrying about what I'm going to wear to my office job. I know, I know, it's adventurous but someone has to do it. My kitchen clock is ticking over my shoulder, pointing it's cold metallic hand at me, telling me I should be upstairs getting ready for work instead of sitting where I'm sitting. "Ha," I say to it, "you can't control me. I'll sit here if I please. I can get ready super fast, because I'm Hormone Girl and nothing can stop me now."
So I'm documenting my adventure and loving it. Here are some pictures of today's journey.
My oasis. It means peace, rest, serenity. Every good adventure needs a place like that. I think that is where the beauty always shows up.
My crock pot is full of rump roast, boneless rump roast that I covered with some garlic, fresh ground black pepper, Lipton's onion soup mix, and water. It's just beginning it's flavorful existence so it's smells are quiet right now, however, when I get home this afternoon, it will be filling my kitchen with the promise of a delicious family meal. We'll sit, we'll eat, we'll talk about our day, we'll be a family. Can't wait.
This was our supper last night - home made pizza. It was yummy. Of course this was the pizza I made for myself. I roasted zucchini and mushrooms, threw on some onions, mozzarella, parmesean, on top of the homemade pizza sauce and it was delicious. The kids and Farmer Boy had a less adventurous version. It makes me smile to think about it. Yesterday was a good day. The meal we shared together was a great way to end it.
Last picture. The clock is getting angry now. Lizzy made kettle corn last night. She made it for a school bake sale. Baked goods are not cool anymore because of the Healthy Kids Act, so popcorn fit the bill. As she was popping, I journeyed down memory lane to the farmhouse of my younger days. Popcorn, ginger-ale, hockey night in Canada, mom, dad, sisters, brother, all in the family room together. I miss those days. That particular adventure, in that place, is over. I guess it goes to show how precious ordinary days really are. Who says they are ordinary anyway?