Joy Dare :: 3 Gifts Sweet

Mom and I were talking about Three Gifts Sweet, and we realized that could go a couple different directions. There’s sweet like, “Oooh, that tastes sweet!” Sweet like “Awww… so sweet!” and then sweet like “Schaweeet!” (didn’t think of that last one till just a bit ago, Mom!)

So, really, I only thought about the “Oooh, yummy!” kind of sweet.

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We snagged these at our discount grocery store during an emergency run for flour and nutmeg. Yes, no nutmeg DOES qualify as an emergency. They were cute, festive, and dipped in white chocolate, which made the children very happy.

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But look! Papa is helping the girls identify a bird that they spotted. Awww, so sweet!

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I am very thankful that Dan can make it home on lunch breaks now. It’s nice to see an adult (and one I like so much!) halfway through my day. Plus, we give him a rundown of the school day while he’s here, and he often has something to add. It’s one of my happiest blessings right now!

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I also managed to score this yummy Christmas-ish coffee at the discount store. Which is schawheet! (But shhhh… don’t tell anyone about this last one, because some just might make it under the tree for certain family members at Christmas time!)

When April Comes

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When April comes with softly shining eyes,
And daffodils bound in her wind-blown hair,
Oh, she will coax all clouds from out the skies,
And every day will bring some sweet surprise,–
The swallows will come swinging through the air
When April comes!

When April comes with tender smile and tear,
Dear dandelions will gild the common ways,
And at the break of morning we will hear
The piping of the robins crystal clear–
While bobolinks will whistle through the days,
When April comes!

When April comes, the world so wise and old,
Will half forget that it is worn and grey;
Winter will seem but as a tale long told–
Its bitter winds with all its frost and cold
Will be the by-gone things of yesterday,
When April comes!
Virna Shear

Oh the drama!

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We have this dog. He’s HUGE, hairy, nearly blind, stinky, gentle as can be, and quite wild and un-tamed. He sleeps on the top of a picnic table and covers the entire thing. He loves the kids dearly. He used to be a sheep dog, but now that all of our sheep have been butchered, he is just a big old backyard dog.

Since all of his sheeply comrades have one by one been stored in the freezer over the past fall, we think that the poor dog is a little worried about his fate – I mean, if you were a dog, wouldn’t you worry?

So yesterday we were working around the yard and Colonel saw his opportunity to shake loose the bonds of fencing that have kept him so, well, fenced in, and strike out on his own.

He has escaped once or twice before, and he generally comes back around when he realizes that he is hungry and that it is best for a near-sighted dog to have one’s food brought to him in a bowl, instead of having to hunt for dinner. In other words, we weren’t terribly worried. The girls, however went in to full on sack-cloth and ashes mode. Mourning, weeping, tearing out of hair… the whole nine yards.

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I don’t think it was the fact that the dog went missing that was causing so much angst. No, it was more that there was an opportunity for drama.

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Before we managed to recapture the humongous canine, Kinsley had worked herself into a full blown panic attack, complete with a terrible headache and chest pain and shortness of breath. So after Dan dragged 200 pounds of dog nearly a mile through the woods, up a ravine, and across the highway, loaded him into the back of the van, and unloaded him back into the backyard, we spent the rest of the evening plying Kinsley with Rescue Remedy
and aromatherapy to ease her back out of panic mode.

Sisters can sure manage to work themselves into the oddest frenzies.