Not once during twenty, life-enriching years in Texas did I imagine a homecoming that would fulfill a schoolgirl dream of living in one of Oklahoma City’s oldest neighborhoods.  So who could have guessed — until it happened five short years later — that we’d trade our 1928 Mesta Park beauty for a 1950′s rambling California Ranch, just twenty blocks up Walker Avenue?

My Daughters and Me

Yet, in some inexplicable way, both Oklahoma homes have brought me full circle –  back to my childhood — to the place where dreams are the stuff of everyday life and the line between the two grows faint.  And though the vibe is different in our “new” neighborhood, home is still where an everyday life takes place; here I cook and keep house, I read and I write and I kneel on knees to pray and garden.

I’m grateful to share days with my husband who remains the love of my life and a large family stretched to embrace those who share the lives of four adult children — three great spouses and five growing-like-weeds grandchildren (the ‘grands’).

I fill my days with typical housewife pursuits though nothing about life is typical.  Indeed, the best of life is what happens in between the exclamation points of birthdays, weddings and other memorable moments.  It’s ironic we take photos of the moments we won’t forget and fail to preserve what is otherwise forgettable.  My blog is an attempt at the latter.