It’s that hour when day nears its end. The hour every mother knows, her whole world aches for her husband to walk through the door offering a mature word or two, joining in the crusade of lifting littles, drying tears and wiping hands. It’s that hour! I hold my breath, my patients my lonely tears. I long to hear him come in, I tell my self he sleeps a world away and to call just to hear his voice would be unthoughtful. I can manage this I can get through another night of feeding and tucking alone. I play jumping jacks of the mind to gear my energy to sail through this hour. The exercise to jump through the gathering storm of feelings has been the discipline of this hour, yes, but also this day. My last grocery shop a deep dramatic sigh over organic blueberries, a good-bye hug from the family physician simmers the fear of living far from medical help, the absence of nervous glances around the shadows of the bank, courteous driving, nature all around, autumn’s air. I whisper good-bye to the goodness of this life, so grateful to have had a long sweet sip this year. And then through the dull feeling inside I feel anticipation, glorious thoughts of seeing my love every day, how I will welcome him as he comes in every evening engaging in the relay of lifting littles, drying tears and wiping hands, side-by-side!

We are home again. Another wonderful (east bound) trip over the mountains. The three 'bumble bee's' (their car name because my kids have a way of buzzing as soon as they get into the car...or hive as I call it!) were wonderful. It is amazing what bribery can do! We all loved having cool Uncle Kris as our driver!
We sent him off with sadness this afternoon. His leaving begins the end of my time in Canada. I plan on spending my last ten days ~relishing~ the joys and beauty and simplicity of my life here and working on looking for the positives about returning to Africa. Stay with me as I blog my way through the (often boring and always emotional) process of wrapping and gearing up to head around the world to my home built on the 'red dirt' of Africa. There my husband is waiting arms wide ready to gather me close and has grand plans on keeping me close (on the same continent) for a while more.

All she wanted for her own was a space echoing of old, charmed with her many treasures collected over her years, stored for the day they could grace a place... all her own!

Growing in a large family means sharing and free is the best price to pay! The bed was given from a neighbouring ranch, the dresser a garage sale, her trunk gifted from sisters, her quilt sent from France, vintage linens from thrift shops. It was a collective family effort of painting and refinishing...everything from the walls to the pictures frames, just so the budget of nearly free could work out!

It did much to the delight of our sweet delight... dear KateLyyn May

Join me on stroll through just a few moments here at Q-Full Ranch.

Meal times abounding with young life

Harvest aromas motivating thanksgiving...


Natures stunning gowns observed and five loaves baked daily...


Pages soaked and banisters dared...


Gazing at sweet descendants and occasional collisions...


Veterinarian aid from a neighbouring rancher...


Between the above activities a family effort to renovate a budding young ladies room has taken place(pictures coming soon), coffee, swimming, tour of the Blue Goose ranches, did I mention coffee?, long thoughtfull discussions after Bible reading, singing, crying, nursing,

But most of all loving!

The sweet boy is smiling his way through his third month celebrations!

Two Horses
Two Brothers
Two Cowboys...
And their arses (nothing like a cowboy's rear in chaps!)