A phenomenon is occurring in my house at this very moment, something I can't entirely explain and that happened without a conscious effort on my part. Somewhere, in my quest of peace and a better way, I stopped thinking and the miraculous started. In the small nooks and corners of my house, as if sprouting from the surfaces they lie and finding themselves looking at home, are the projects that have been filling our days of late. They peek from behind doors, stare down from shelves, and pop out of baskets and drawers. Across from me, draped out of the basket that holds our library books is the noodle necklace Aidyn painted last week. On the couch behind me is the just started beanie I am knitting for Evan. On an end table rests a small scarf for Ely, waiting it's finishing touches. Some small beads in a glass jar sit on the table beside a newly potted tulip plant, my camera, and the small stitch markers Aidyn helped me assemble this morning out of said beads. A drawing done for Evan's birthday still graces the wall in front of the door, and I can see another peeking from a stack of bills in a letter holder. As I look around, I feel the warmth of the people who live here, the tiny touches of their love in each project. Aidyn so proud of his painting and coloring, Ely bending over my hands while to watch me put new stitches in her scarf, the joy I feel as I imagine the finished product for one I love.
When I stopped looking, my house suddenly became my home. The love is palpable, the joy an aura. The family that lives here is far from perfect, but the evidence of their repleteness is abundant. Here's wishing you a home filled with joy, love, peace and all the crafts you can handle.