We’re having a rainy, blustery morning in our neighborhood. Luna and Millie hardly want to venture out at all. I don’t blame them; aside from scurrying down the driveway to bring in the paper, I’ve stayed cozy with my hot coffee and glowing candles.
On a similar day last month, we did go out and ramble around the yard.
I snapped a few pictures of Millie along the way.
I really didn’t think she was going to follow us.
But she did.
She clearly was not thrilled to be out and about.
Can’t you just hear her muttering under her breath?
This picture makes me laugh.
It’s not kind of me, I know.
But that mood is all too familiar to me.
In my reading this morning, I ran across a poem by George MacDonald. I liked it and thought I’d share it.
My prayers, my God, flow from what I am not;
I think thy answers make me what I am.
Like weary waves thought follows upon thought,
But the still depth beneath is all thine own,
And there thou mov’st in paths to us unknown.
Out of strange strife thy peace is strangely wrought;
If the lion in us pray—thou answerest the lamb.
Happy December, friends.