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Oh how the months speed by…
The latest from Our Little House in the Big Woods
- “Failed” friendships
- Happy Mother’s Day weekend (random blogging musings)
- What really happened at the waterfalls…
- “Keeps on keepin’ on”
- A mountain man lives in my mom’s basement.
- Is home where the heart is?
- Sleeping beneath the Mackinac Bridge last night
- All you bunnies out there…
- Ice fishing, robins, winner, Easter
- Keep giving away…
Read, read, read…months and months of photos and words…
The times folks have paused along Lake Superior Spirit's shores since 2010
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Tag Archives: personal
I am having so much trouble writing a blog these days. There’s either nothing to say, or too much to say. It doesn’t feel easy and carefree in ways that it used to be. It appears I may quit blogging … Continue reading
Hello, dear reader. I am back from a lovely week of vacationing at Fort Myers Beach, Florida, with my mom, brother and sister-in-law. Am feeling rather mellow and tired, but wanted to upload these photos this afternoon. It … Continue reading
Very annoying. Yesterday we “fixed” the wood stove furnace belt, which “entertained” us with squeaky noises for the past month. An hour later the new belt is entertaining us with different squeaky noises. Can it be fixed? At times squeaky … Continue reading
Last January, just before I quit blogging for ten months, I wrote a post called “The world’s best journal“. The journal is one of the things that makes me unconditionally happy. To read back over the years and to remember … Continue reading
I may be over-doing it blogging lately, but, gosh, it can be fun. Some day, perhaps, the writing will cease again–but for now, it’s alive here. It can be especially fun when it’s cold. Something to do, you know, in … Continue reading
I just received an official notice. It’s been nine years since I first started blogging about our Little House in the Big Woods. Nine years ago, on a snowy winter day in 2008, the idea arose to spend … Continue reading
Close your eyes. Now imagine your dead father’s face. Pull it into your inner sight, the wrinkles on his face, the dear crooked smile, the stubble of beard, the gray-brown hair that fell just so on his precious forehead. Feel … Continue reading