Okay, the weirdest thing just happened. I looked out my window and could have sworn that it's snowing outside. Now, I also happen to know that it's practically 75 degrees out there, so that can't be snow. But honestly, there's all this white fluffy stuff flying around.
What could it be?
Yep. Pollen.
Heaven help us. We are the seasonal allergy kings and queens, and this does not bode well for our Flonase consumption.
Maybe I should buy stock in Kleenex...
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Just a Thought...
...our Father in Heaven knows who we are and what we did before we came here. He has chosen the time and place for each of us to be born so we can learn the lessons we personally need and do the most good with our individual talents and personalities.
Chapter 2, page 10 of Gospel Principles
Chapter 2, page 10 of Gospel Principles
"Do the best you can through these years, but whatever else you do, cherish that role that is so uniquely yours and for which heaven itself sends angels to watch over you and your little ones. Mothers, we acknowledge and esteem your faith in every footstep. Please know that it is worth it then, now, and forever."
--Jeffrey R. Holland
Because She Is a Mother
April 1997
About Me
- Heather B
- Fantastically busy mom of six, who wonders if she's really up to blogging! We shall see...
What I Believe
Bugg Buddies
- Andrew and Angela
- Barrett and Nicole
- Bart and Kelli
- Ben
- Brent and Niki
- Chad and Diana
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- Dave and Diane
- Heather J
- Howard and Kirsty
- Jacob and Rachel
- Jared and Catrina
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- Josh and Caralee
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- Kevin and Lori
- Lesley
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- Z's Scriptural Commentary
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Worthwhile Thoughts
Not they who soar, but they who plod
Their rugged way, unhelped, to God
Are heroes; they who higher fare,
And, flying, fan the upper air,
Miss all the toil that hugs the sod.'
Tis they whose backs have felt the rod,
Whose feet have pressed the path unshod,
May smile upon defeated care,
Not they who soar.
from Not They Who Soar, by Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872-1906)
Their rugged way, unhelped, to God
Are heroes; they who higher fare,
And, flying, fan the upper air,
Miss all the toil that hugs the sod.'
Tis they whose backs have felt the rod,
Whose feet have pressed the path unshod,
May smile upon defeated care,
Not they who soar.
from Not They Who Soar, by Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872-1906)
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3 comments:
thank goodness for good medicines!!! I wouldn't survive any other way!
Bless You!!!
Wow! We had the same "snow storm" here today! Hahaha!
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