Hi...Sat before last the barn was in use by Stacey and friends.  They did their nails...talked...did zumba...talked...found the wine...talked...snacked on bread and cheese...talked...then talked...finally ate a real meal at the table for 10 in the main house...and talked...guess you could say they did what they wanted...all children not under foot...pleasure to have the dads do Sat duty in that regard...home by bedtime...next day Easter...things to do forgotten for 6 0r s0 hours...I heard them say..."let's do this again...Stacey and friends.

I want to give you something to think about from Easter morning in Kabul.  My granddaughter (Peter Dyrud's wife) is with the USAF there for 6 mo.  I will let you in on some of her doings from time to time.  Here is what Felisa wrote and sent ... a gift to us on the DAY of Jesus' greatest gift to us 

SUNRISE COMES SOONER

Sunrise comes sooner here

but the sparrows know the same tunes-

the sorrow

the celebration

The dusty hill takes shape

beyond the walls

upon walls

and I know that today

a young girl will pump water

from a well and haul

the yellow cans up

a steep path, home.

She would prefer to keep

doing little girl's chores.

Growing up is uncertain.

A morning you can see

your breath

Smoke seeping skyward

from the city's nostrils

mingles with our praises

incense blended in 

hope of fragrance

surging from young roses

yet to bud.

to bed to bed why do I start these blogging pieces at midnight maybe I think more quietly then but legs restlessly would walk to the place they lie upon feathers as they will  goodnight