It is Sunday. We don't do church on Sundays for a myriad of reasons, the biggest being we have never found a Christian Community here in Pensacola. But we worship at home on Saturdays, the Sabbath.
But this morning, my house smells, and sounds amazing.
We have fresh coffee, grain milling, an apple cinnamon oven pancake baking away. I can look out my window and see freshly washed diapers fluttering in the cool fall breeze.
The bee is cutting bread dough and rolling it out, laughing as it stretches and springs back. Huck is in his high chair chewing on a maple teether and John is listening to his political shows in the bedroom.
This truly is the good life.