Country music, sunshine, and remembering gratitude.

One afternoon last week, in the midst of the piles of laundry and the mess, I simply remembered.

I remembered that these are gifts I have been given. I remembered the eucharisto. The thanks.

The joy of my daughter learning how to ride her bike. 

March 2014 - Red Dirt Mama (1 of 16)

The piles of dirt and dust — the food and the imagination — of a little girl who loves to play outside.

March 2014 - Red Dirt Mama (2 of 16)

A little boy learning how to eat. 

March 2014 - Red Dirt Mama (3 of 16)

Green beans and graham crackers. 

March 2014 - Red Dirt Mama (4 of 16)

A game of peekaboo. 

March 2014 - Red Dirt Mama (5 of 16)

Milk and markers — a mess reminding me that life goes on here. 

March 2014 - Red Dirt Mama (6 of 16)

The delight of limes in an ice cold glass of water — in my favorite glass.
March 2014 - Red Dirt Mama (7 of 16)
Pink streamers blowing in the March winds. 

March 2014 - Red Dirt Mama (8 of 16)

Superheroine costumes and tutus. Learning how to ride backwards. 

March 2014 - Red Dirt Mama (9 of 16) March 2014 - Red Dirt Mama (10 of 16) March 2014 - Red Dirt Mama (11 of 16)

Being okay in a white t-shirt and no makeup, just to capture a little spring sunlight. Remembering the sheer joy of the moment. 

March 2014 - Red Dirt Mama (13 of 16)

Writing down the gifts in my journal. 

March 2014 - Red Dirt Mama (14 of 16)
The messes, the perfection — it doesn’t matter. What matters is allowing your soul to be filled. Finding your gratitude.

A thousand gifts.

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