ramblings from an arkansas farm girl
Dear Sunday Letter friends,
Do you ever have one of those weeks when you feel like you accomplished very little? When you felt out of sync with everything? That’s how last week was for me. I have nothing to whine about, not by a long shot, but let this serve as a reminder that some days (weeks) aren’t filled with rosebuds and optimism no matter what our Instagram feed would have us believe. Some days are quite the opposite.
And that’s okay.Continue Reading
He loves me,
He loves me not.
He loves me,
He loves me not.
He loves me…
When I was a young girl, my friends and I often plucked the petals of daisy-like flowers, hoping the final petal coincided with he loves me.
But… what if the last petal announced the wrong outcome? We plucked another flower and started over, of course.
It’s funny to think back on it. Especially since as fifth graders flitting and skipping around during recess, we had no idea who “he” was. Certainly he couldn’t be one of the boys in class. Gross. #cooties
He loves me, he loves me not…
Dear Sunday Letter friends,
This time of year I spend time looking for the first blooms in our flower beds. Our daffodils are taking their sweet time which is probably a good thing since an arctic blast brought bone-chilling cold on Thursday with icy snow flurries that lasted all day. Those of a certain age will probably remember the Chiffon margarine commercial that ended with the reminder—it’s not nice to fool Mother Nature.
Remember?
Well, you can’t rush her either.
