Blue.

Today was blue. A deep, rich, invigorating, satisfying blue. I love when days are a certain color. Everywhere I went, I noticed it: a blue cup, a blue couch, blue and white plates, blue flowers, blue books.

Today the sky was so blue. It almost felt like we lived in the west. I spent the afternoon gardening...if you can count weeding an asparagus patch as gardening: I just think "gardening" makes me sound like Antonia. The clouds were tiny and cute and randomly blown across the sky by the wind. The jet trails, too, were stretched out across the blue, not wound in their tight lines, but scattered and tossed. The sun was warm, and I could feel it on my skin. My freckles rejoiced, and I think a few more were even added to their number. (Oh, I know that sounds silly, but I laughed when I found myself thinking that this afternoon.)

I made--or, made for the first time with a little help from Mom--whole wheat bread. We ground the wheat, and the fresh flour was so light. The mixer is in front of the window, and the breeze coming through the open window would blow clouds of flour dust into the room every time I measured it. The dough smelled so good. We left it to rise underneath a green dish towel. I have always loved bowls covered in dish towels in Mom's kitchen. We weren't allowed to lift them up to peak inside, but we were always certain there was something delicious underneath.

I made dinner tonight, too. Steak tacos with guacamole and chipotle sour cream, and salad with oranges and avocados. It seems like we always have Mexican food on Saturday nights. Those dinners are so gratifying: they are usually the end to long days of chores and work outside. I love sitting on the screened-in porch watching the sky turn from afternoon to evening. After dinner, I made granola, and began a new love for the smell of almond extract. Really, it's incredible. Cameron, Margaret and I sat around the dinner table later in the evening playing Careers and listening to the Orioles game.

Today has been picturesque, I think. There was nothing extraordinary that happened today, nothing necessarily unexpected or surprising. But those are the days that I want to love the most. His goodness surrounds me, and the cross constrains me to His grace. Every single breath is a gift, and every moment is ordained by a merciful God. We HAVE seen His glory. And we must rejoice in it.

But he was risen and he knew it, he felt it fully with the whole of his renewed being. -Dostoevsky