sweet pea flowers by a bright full moon

each Sunday, I admit, I am tuned into the improv network

Tonight was no exception, and my role was a leading one:

Tour the coutryside with a bag of peanut-butter and chocolate chip muffins, sharing at will.

One left on a doorstoop, another I began to eat between the second and first floors on a slow Otis elevator

Marybel could only eat half during our even conversation, the other half was covered by a paper towel while I walked out to get the mail, through the afterglow of a just-set-sun, tiny pink clounds and a banner of white brilliance. On the opposite horizon, a bright full moon uped itself from a line of soft blue clouds and a twightlight backdrop. On this stage, I walked back along the country road, stopped to pick three stalks of pastel sweet pea flowers and enjoyed my cousins.
And enjoyed my cousins.

• Thanks Marybell, my phone-a-nurse and prayer companion, for praising God in front of me in the face of OBSTACLEs - nothing is too big for our Papa, God
• Thanks Jan, supreme brainstormer and hospitality cooridinator, for the key to your house and a constant welcome
• Thanks to Grandpa Roy for flowers, fellowship, financial advice, logical thinking - Izzy's pizza, etc. was wonderful, but more wonderful is spending time with you
• Thanks Dan, Tami and Rebekah (sp?) - you are so welcoming. Luna even ended up liking me - I think it was because I spent a good 10 minutes rubbing her back under the table with my bare feet. That's kind of soothing.
• Thanks Rathkeys - you make me feel at home!

Ah, this is the kind of day I want to remember during the wet, rainyness of winter - driving through the country with a breeze and warm, honey smells.