At the beginning of the year, I sat down and wrote out some goals. Some had to do with my marriage and my family. Others were personal goals like complete a marathon, take more pictures of my family, read a certain number of books, etc.

It might sound silly, but I also set some friendship goals. I felt strongly that I needed to cultivate deeper bonds with the people in my life and also be more intentional about encouraging those around me. A huge part of that goal has been letter writing.

I set out to write one letter a week. I asked among my friends on Facebook who would like to receive a letter and I made a list. I’ve slowly been working my way down it. There are weeks when I get behind, but overall I’m thankful I’ve been able to remain consistent.

This goal of handwriting letters to people has blessed me immensely.

Some of the letters I’ve written are just plain silly. Others are filled with ordinary day-to-day details. I’ve written many where my heart bled out onto the paper and my soul felt cleansed. I’ve confessed things, I’ve opened up about other things, and I’ve asked for advice. I’ve been able to tell others how they impacted my life and the lives of others – to encourage them to continue to fight the good fight.

Walking out to the mailbox, reaching in and drawing out a letter addressed to me makes me happy. Watching this stack of letters grow as the weeks pass makes me happy. Realizing I’m surrounded by so many amazing people and I have the opportunity to get to know each of them a little better makes me happy.

What about you? When’s the last time you received a handwritten letter in the mail? When’s the last time you wrote one?

As the lasagna cooked, my man and I took turns teaching the children how to dance the rhumba and enjoyed their snickers when we danced it together.

We laughed, talked, ate and drank at a leisurely pace. We toasted and toasted some more.

It was a wonderful evening spent celebrating turning another year older.

We packed a picnic lunch, plenty of snacks and headed out.

We hiked down the Cedar Falls Trail first. I was a little concerned about the little guys making it down because the trail was described as moderate to strenuous. The only person who ended up falling was me . . . go figure. Ha! The children did great and the trail was beautiful. This was the first waterfall the children had ever seen in person.

We hiked our way back to the top and headed over to Bear Cave Trail. I think this was, by far, the children’s favorite part of the day. They loved running in and out of the caves.

I love days like yesterday. Whining and complaining were at a minimum and laughing was abundant. Makes my heart happy. What more could you ask for as a birthday gift?

This was a big event with bouncy houses, live music, booths, food, etc.

The children enjoyed the Sheriffs’ horses and those who were brave enough ventured over to pet them.

It doesn’t hurt either that it also provides me with genuine smiles for the camera.

Win for them. Win for me. ::wink::

As long as I’ve known him, he’s been into health and fitness, so receiving a diagnosis and warning like that was eye opening. Because he’d always been health conscious there wasn’t a radical lifestyle change for him. Yes, he cut out the “white” stuff ~ bread, rice, potatoes, sugar, etc. but, he really just became more aware of the things he put into his body.

When he read about the Tour de Cure, a ride benefiting the American Diabetes Association, he was excited to participate. There are a lot of rides out there to choose from, but this one was personal to him. He rode in honor of his mother who has diabetes and he rode for himself.

The children and I are so proud of him. I’m thankful for the example of his life.

I want to thank each of you who helped with his fundraising. It meant so to him. And to me.

“Imagination is more important than knowledge. For knowledge is limited to all we now know and understand, while imagination embraces the entire world, and all there ever will be to know and understand.” ~ Albert Einstein

The wind whipped my hair and the sun warmed my neck as I followed the path behind my boys. They held branches out of the way, pushed down thorny bushes and giggled as I picked leaf after leaf out of the hem of my sundress.

We came upon a garden of purple weeds wild flowers and one of my boys knelt down and eagerly made a bouquet.

They guided me to Elephant Hill, the boat log and their hidden forest. Then, we discovered a hidden map and followed it to a deserted house.

When we came inside an hour later, the laundry was still piled up, the dishwasher still needed to be unloaded, and e-mails were still waiting to be attended to; however, the I knew I had chosen wisely. All of those other things could wait. My boys’ imaginations and the adventure they wanted to take me on could not.

I found a gem of an idea a couple of months ago and pinned it away for a later date.

The later date arrived this past Friday ~ sixteen years of being married to my man.

I bought sixteen heart shaped balloons, wrote down sixteen memories on sixteen different sheets of paper, tied each memory to a balloon and waited for my man to come home from work.

It was so much fun to talk about each memory as he unrolled them ~ to relive them and laugh about them.

It was a memory I’ll file away with so many others.

Today?

Tintin and his dog Snowy.

I’m not sure they found what they were looking for, but they sure brought lots of laughter and cheer while they were here.

Sometimes it’s a strength.

Other times I know in my heart I’m missing out.

Missing out on experiencing life.

Experiencing the here and now.

Experiencing my children’s imagination, laughter and camaraderie.

Today, I’m thankful they dragged me out of my hole, cleared away the tunnel vision and brought me into their world.

It was good for my soul.