November 4

Abby came home from student teaching today bearing a small collection of birthday cards and gifts from her second graders.

As she shared them with me --the bunny pouch, the Christmas pajamas, the sweet note from one child who thanked her for helping him to "feel calm"-- I could see the emotion in her eyes. She's really come to love these kids over the past few months, and it meant a great deal to her to know that they appreciate her, too.

She's going to make a difference as a teacher. I know it. And I'm grateful that God has blessed her with a compassionate, caring heart that will compel her to work hard to help the young people who are entrusted to her care.

November 3

Abby turned 22 today. Twenty-two!

Since she doesn't student teach on Tuesdays, she opted to come home last night so she could wake up in her own bed on her birthday.

We spent the morning collecting her freebies --including her "monstrosity" (her word, not mine!) drink from the Mother Ship, an ice dream cone from Chick filA, and a red velvet bundtlet cake from Nothing Bundt Cakes-- and strolling the aisles at Target. (Halloween candy was 90 percent off this morning, much to my great delight and horror.)

She opted for sandwiches from The Bagel Cafe for lunch, and then we returned home and watched last night's episode of "Dancing with the Stars" (per her request. I used to be a big fan but got tired of it several years ago).

Then she drove up to her evening class and picked up a boba along the way. When Adam got home, he and Brady and I headed to Walnut Creek and met her at the Cheesecake Factory for dinner. And we finished our evening at my in laws' house with the happy birthday song (featuring video called-in Isaac) sung over her slice of cheesecake --we foraged for a candle and fortunately found one!-- and presents.

I hope she had a good day and felt loved. She's a wonderful young woman with an equally wonderful heart, and I greatly admire her commitment to her faith and to living a Godly life. Although I know she worries about the future sometimes, I also know that she will make a fantastic teacher because she cares and she wants to succeed. And she wants the students to succeed, too.

So for the great blessing of 22 years of Abby, I am endlessly thankful. Happy birthday, my girl! I love you!

November 2

I'm a bit of a Fall snob: if it doesn't involve a full-color array of reds and oranges and yellows, it's not truly autumnal.

I forget, when September passes into October and the leaves remain green, that we do get to enjoy a limited Fall... eventually. It just involves something I've never been particularly good at -- patience.

And as I looked outside the window into the back yard this afternoon, it occurred to me that our limited Fall has finally arrived. So I stood there and looked out at the scene --at those vibrant reds and oranges-- and felt a sense of gratitude for those colors; those beautiful colors that only God could dream up and slowly, gently, deliberately morph into existence on the branches of trees.

November 1

This is a snapshot of a typical Sunday afternoon at the Pleasanton Wight House these days.

It began with Adam and I on a video call with Isaac. Brady (and Chub) joined us, followed a little later by Abby. Once I'd had enough of the dogpiling, I moved a few feet away to a different chair. And that's when I took this pic.

Isaac was still talking to them on the laptop. And I was observing the beautiful cacophony.

So for all of that lovely craziness, I am grateful.

October 31

Halloween is one of those holidays that changes dramatically depending on the ages of the people in your household. (Or at least that's been my experience.)

When I was a young kiddo, I trick-or-treated on Aiken Drive with my mom and my brothers, and mom made the most amazing gingerbread men that she gave out instead of candy. (I miss those because they were go-oo-ood!)

When I was a little older, I grabbed a pillowcase and ran from house to house with my friends, trying to cover as much ground as possible in order to increase my candy yield. And then I'd hide the stuffed pillowcase in the closet in my room (since I had to keep it safe from my pesky little brother; although in hindsight, I assume he knew exactly where it was and probably helped himself at times). 

When our kids were young, we savored the moments of trick-or-treating with them, watching as they climbed stairs and admired decorations and swung their pumpkin buckets to the beat of their footsteps. We accompanied a wide variety of characters over those sweet, sweet years, from a ladybug to Finn McMissile and a monkey to Thor. And so, so many more.

And now, well, now things are different. Abby and Brady carved their pumpkins this evening and posed for the obligatory picture before I drove Brady to his friend Jacob's house for the evening. Then I went up to the top of the cul de sac for our annual neighborhood bonfire, where I spent a little time catching up with the neighbors. It was the last bonfire for our across-the-street neighbors Mary and Brian, who just accepted an offer on their home and will be heading out of state soon. I'm happy for them but sad for me, because they're truly the best neighbors I've ever had. 

And now, it's quiet. I didn't go overboard on the candy this year so I'm not sorting through leftovers (and my waistline thanks me for that). Brady is still at Jacob's and Abby is doing some work for school. And Adam and I are watching a very spooky "Matlock" re-run. (Kidding. It's not spooky.)

So that's our Halloween this year. Although I don't love change, I am thankful to be in a phase of life where life feels a bit quieter. And I am grateful to God for good neighbors and great friends and for opportunities to reflect on what was, what is, and what may be down the line. Because every phase of life is lined with blessings.

October 30

The sky this morning was beautiful. I noticed it immediately as Brady drove us out of the cul de sac and down the hill toward the school. 

I couldn't catch the entire display in a single shot, but it was a stunning mix of light and shadow. Low down near the horizon, I could see sunlight pressing hard against the grey, trying its best to break through.

That lovely expanse of natural beauty was an awe-inspiring vision created by God. And I am thankful for His provision.

October 29

I was less than amused when the power abruptly went out at a little before one o'clock this afternoon. It was cloudy outside and only 64 degrees inside, and I was annoyed to suddenly be unable to turn on the heater. I was more annoyed when a text update told me that the lights would be off until after 8 PM.

But as it turned out, it wasn't all that bad after all. Since there was no TV, no wifi, and no kitchen appliances to keep me occupied, I took a walk and checked out the flowers. We may be approaching November, but we still have roses. And although it's not the same as my east coast experience, some of the leaves are indeed changing color. 

And then later, after he'd spent some time in his room (doing I'm not sure what), Brady sauntered into the family room, sighed, went outside, and set up the pitching net. He hadn't thrown in quite some time so it was a blessing to me to once again sit there on the deck while he worked. I gave feedback on his form, and to his credit, he took the comments seriously. He even devised an extra-goofy delivery and asked if I thought the coach would let him make weird noises on the mound if he pitches well enough this coming Spring. It was good Brady-and-mom time, and I am grateful to have had it.

The lights did eventually come back on --at around five, so PG&E successfully sandbagged the original estimate-- but for the unexpected blessing of a power outage that helped me to slow down and notice more and gave me precious minutes with my kiddo, I am grateful.