the 12th of November.

- Pacific City.
- sunshine, blue sky, crashing waves.
- warmth in a tucked away corner.
- breakfast at the Pub.
- hot chocolate and a lot of whipped cream.
- rubber boots.
- stocking caps.
- a smiling husband.
- a cell phone and an extra key.
- the gift of time – not so much about quantity as quality.
- sharing and being “ok” with it.
- changing perspective to get a better look at things.
- the 5 love languages.
- baseballs, bats and lots of swings.
- new friends.
- handprints that look small now, but are growing by the minute.
- diggers, shovels, buckets, rakes and the way they bring sand to life.
- 10 year old tennis shoes that my feet will always love – even if they are out of style.
- hills to climb, and hills to soar down.
- a lost child found – and a heart that can pound, a mind that can pray, and boys with an exceptional sense of direction.
- a nap.
- the smell of waffle cones and ice cream.
- flattened pennies.
- squeaky cheese.
- grocery shopping with my children and husband – it makes shopping by myself seem like a dream.
- caramel apples – with a little bit of peanut butter mixed in too.
- steamer clams.
- sparkling cider and “cheers” from Mack to everyone.
- a washing machine.
- a boy who handles getting “sick” way better than his mother.
- towels, a bucket and a few good hours of sleep.

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and the overload of pictures begins ...