Another miracle happened at Hobbit Cottage. They seem to breed happily here, like rabbits bounding in all the corners.
That French music radio station I listened to out on the farm? The one which reminds me of rolling pie crust before our previous kitchen's tall window while pausing to gaze out over sunny, barren fields and trees (pretending this was Southern France) on quiet afternoons? The station which sounded only like scratchy, musical static when we moved to this new house?
That station comes in clearly now. Yes, over my 1930's replica radio, the same lovely French 1960's-retro-folk-music-mainly-but-so-much-more tunes now waft through my kitchen and all of our downstairs. Like a gorgeous soundtrack of my life, inspiring me, nudging me to complete my chores. With much Grace.
It's true. When one door closes (the loss of my favorite vintage music station), another door opens. And in this case, that door opened to something I'd forgotten was breath-taking in its beauty.
Over the next three days, we are due for temperatures of 50 degrees and over. Wow. I remember earlier Buffalo January's when we became ecstatic because we finally had a high of 7 degrees instead of just 2.
Weather miracles. I'll take those, also.
And may I never miss or under-appreciate any type of miracle.
Oh my goodness! Did you watch that story about the little cat who walked 190 miles back home? Tom and I still can't fathom such a thing. God must have installed the first GPS systems inside of dogs and cats and I just can't wrap my head around how they find their way home like that!