Small Stone #30

The big dog in the little car, his barks resonating in my ears, his claws click clack skittering on the glass, his forceful lunges rocking the car, so glad he doesn't have opposable thumbs.

Small Stone #29

Waiting for the dryer to buzz, warm clothes fold best.  Would call it a night, but the desire for clean underwear is stronger than desire for sleep.

Small stone #28

Crisp.  Clean.  Sheets.
Bedtime isn't coming fast enough.

Small Stone #27

An unexpected kid free night: it's dinner for two, a movie on TV and a love seat that fits just right.

Small Stone #26

Thank God for daughters who like to  cook and bake....who can make dinner when Mom's not feeling well....who can whip up a batch of lemon bars just for funsies.  Thank God for daughters, period.

Small Stone #25

The sink is piled high, dirty dishes of every shape and size.  I should fill the sink with hot water, let the suds mound up and plunge my trusty rag in and start scrubbing.  I should, I should, I should.  I will.  Tomorrow.  Tonight I will turn off the light and leave my troubles for tomorrow, when I am looking for one clean bowl. But that is tomorrow's trouble.

Small Stone #24

He found Gandalf's staff, or a stick that looked just like it, on the beach.  He may have out grown it....the staff sits in a corner of our dining room.....it may have gone back to being just a stick.  He may have forgotten, but I will always remember his joy the day he found Gandalf's staff.....so it sits in the corner, getting dusted occasionally by me.

Small Stone #23

It was a trying day, a good day, a long day......then Good News!  The new job is the perfect fit and half the tests results have come back okay.   It was a race to see which phone plan was faster as we texted, "Yeah!" and "Wonderful!" and "Margaritas at LaHa!"

Small Stone #22

It's all sunshine and happiness and all is right in the world....friends and family are hale and hearty.  But it can't last...this is life after all.  A suspicious spot and doctor consults and suddenly the shadows are darker and closer.

Small Stone #21

I love a good eraser, I love the disappearing mistake, I love brushing away the shavings.  I hate the idea that isn't transferring from my thoughts to my hand to my pencil to my paper.

Small Stone #20

The snow is melting.....slushy lake sized puddles outside.....inside two pairs of gloves and one pair of boots sit by the heater, one lone sock under the table, one glove without a mate on the counter, a pile of scarfs and hats on the dryer.....the snow is melting, leaving behind the accouterments of snow days well played.

Small Stone #19

Reading unlimited bedtime stories to sleepover nephews......I can hear my Grandma's voice and the rhythm of Arthur Cluck and Little Bear......I hope I sound just like that as I read Green Eggs and Ham.

Small Stone #18

Three dogs on the couch....a nest made from a blanket and a pillow and warm furry bodies.  I'd sink into it too, but I don't want to disturb them.  I'll find my own spot, albeit colder and less dogged and not as good.

Small Stone #17

My toes are frigid bits of ice, which I tuck against his warm legs.  The rest of me is hot, covers thrown off and fan turned on.  He tucks the rest of his cold self around me.

Small Stone #16

The trees are alive with birds....round, plump, fluffy feathered birds....perching on tree limbs, snow falling.  They look cold.  Maybe we should invite them in?  We'll send the invitation out via the dogs......funny thing, no takers.  The sky is alive with birds in fright.

Small Stone #15

That's not the way I do it, I think as I watch him wash the dishes.  But I will bite my tongue because if he is washing the dishes, that means I am not.

Small Stone #14

Judging by the finger licking and the moans of mmm-mmm-mmm and the half empty pan of freshly baked and barely cooled lemon bars, I did my Grandma's recipe justice.

Small Stone #13

When do people know who they are to be?  When do they look around and realize this life path or not, I am settled or I am not.  I was born knowing, old soul trapped by youth.  I know and became and am content.

Small Stone #12

The floors shine, the tub sparkles, the sheets fresh, the satisfaction soul deep. In my book, housework is not a dirty word.  It's a darn clean one.

Small Stone #11

We meet at the dinner table and I say
Ready, set, go, how was your day?
Minute by minute details unfold,
Laughter shared, moments retold.
Our day isn't complete, isn't solid and good
Until events of the day are shared over food.

This small stone is inspired by the writing prompts at Mama's Losin' It!