It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood

The flag is flying, the sun is shining, the petunias are still blooming. I must have gotten flustered when setting up, this, my first blog, because I chose the name of my girlfriend's house for the name of my blog, instead of the name of my own house, which is Podmore's Thatch. Years ago, when we were both attending The Church of Eternal Despair ; ) we became friends and spent as much time together as possible, trying to counteract as much of the joyless lifestyle of "The CED" as we could. So, we named our houses and pretended that we had the sweet homekeeping life that we didn't actually have. Over the years we've moved a few times, but her house has always been Wheatberry Cottage and mine has always been Podmore's Thatch. (Podmore's Thatch is the name of a house in "The Shell Seekers" by Rosamunde Pilcher. I loved the name and adopted it for my own house. My husband surprised me on Mother's Day last year, by getting me a custom made sign which now hangs on our front porch.) I said all that to say that perhaps I'll go back and correct it later on, when and if I figure out how!

I love. . .

I love Jesus. That goes without saying for me really. I'm working on a cross-stitch sampler, done all in DMC 3777, with verses from an old hymn that say, "Let this my superscription be, Jesus, crucified for me, He is my life, my hope's foundation, and my glory and salvation." I chose them because they were truly a heartfelt reflection of my love and longing for Him.

So, how does one go about expressing their delight, their pleasure in their family, their friends, their interests without saying "I love. . . . so and so, or such and such"? After I've said I love Jesus, it seems a little sacrilegious to use the same words about my husband or teapots or cross-stitching. I do love my husband and my kids and my friends, and I really do enjoy teapots, cross-stitching, aprons, cheesecake. . . (and a whole lot of other stuff too, which we'll get to later, maybe. . .) Is the word  love not superlative enough for my Saviour? Or do I need to learn another language? Just musing. . . Sometimes I think too much about things that I'm pretty sure don't really matter, when I really ought to be strapping on my apron and getting the dishes done.

I get a such kick out of Ruthie over at Sugar Pie Farmhouse saying she loves things so much she wants to marry them. Her blog is so pretty and she has such wonderful, special things to say in every one of her posts.

And now, for something completely different. . .

I've been thinking about starting a blog for quite a while. I have a beloved friend in Phoenix, Arizona with whom I have been corresponding by snail mail a couple times a week for over 10 years. Lately I have been overloading my letters to her with my "religious observations" and although she doesn't object too strenuously we do like to keep our letters on a more "homey, what we've been doing in house and garden report" basis, than as a sermonizing format. So, if I'm feeling particularly impressed with a thought which I don't want to burden her with I'll now have an outlet.