While we grumbled about rain drenching our tent, our socks and everything else, the region we so recently left suffered smoke and superheated winds. I worry about my friends. I wonder about the tomatoes and zucchini ripening in our garden, the hanging pots of petunias. Our hearts and minds are split between old home and new, our attention on friends and family in both places. … Continue reading From landscapes to skyscapes
After arriving in Spokane full throttle, it only took us a few minutes to realize we didn’t actually have to keep going at that ridiculous pace. We stayed a day to visit, walk and regroup, and now we’re back on the road, feeling like a new family. A renewed family. Continue reading Respite day
Strange to think these now-mundane views will soon become the stuff of precious memories. Continue reading Moving
All too aware that the last week of summer vacation was slipping through our fingers, my son and I hurried about with almost manic energy. We played croquet and Legos, picked tomatoes and beans, and took the dog for walks along a nearby lake. When my son napped, I did laundry, pulled weeds and made lists preparing for the start of school. Then yesterday, for no apparent reason, we came from opposite ends of … Continue reading Summer’s end
I did something new last Sunday: I shouted in church. No, I wasn’t slain in the spirit or anything like that—we’re Washington State Presbyterians (and grew up as Minnesota Lutherans). Sure, now and then someone will punctuate a point in the sermon with an “Amen!,” and a couple of women sometimes sing with their hands lifted high, but our senior pastor likes to joke that our … Continue reading Um! Yah! Yah!
1. Some dogs don’t mix well with stuffed animals. 2. Simply hoping can make gardening dreams come true. 3. I hold onto strange items. For years. What are you holding onto? Feel free to confess it — leave a reply — below. Continue reading Three minor epiphanies of the week
I’ve called the Pacific Northwest home for nearly a decade, and yet its version of springtime still shocks me. I come from Minnesota, where spring follows sepia-toned winters, gray skies and brown landscapes that give way to white skies and white landscapes. Now and then these scenes are punctuated by periods of pure yellow sunshine that emanate from heavens of brilliant blue, turning ice-encrusted trees and snowdrifts into piles of diamonds. Western Washington winters … Continue reading Where spring throws off her shirt
Sarah Coomber 