So this past weekend was the community garage sale in my small town. Though I’m really aspiring to greater simplicity, a community garage sale is my kryptonite.
I was super-excited about a necklace I found. But when I paired the necklace with a bracelet I’d nabbed for $.50, my husband’s eyebrow cocked. Not a good sign.
So there’s this chance raising teenagers could kill me.
I’m (again) in one of these parenting seasons where hope feels like a mind game. There is indeed a battlefield in my brain, in my soul.
So maybe knowing the off-roading ways of my mind, you won’t be surprised: My lunch recently inspired a way to draw out the best in my kids.
Lately I’ve been sawing into the Roma tomatoes glowing red from the wooden bowl on my counter. I lay slices of fresh mozzarella on top (because why not?), and then some ribbons of the basil forming its little green-leafed umbrellas on my front porch. It’s even better when I reach into the clay salt cellar on my stove and sprinkle sea salt on top.
![Now You're Speaking My [Love] Language](https://www.janelbreitenstein.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/08/love-languages-text-1.jpg "Now You're Speaking My [Love] Language")
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