“Miracles happen only if you believe in miracles.” – Paula Coelho
Miracle One
The other day my mom came over to do some yard work while I was gone, and the kids were at school. Completely gracious of her.
When I came home, I put Cooper the dog and his friend Ziggy in the backyard to play while I had an online meeting. A few minutes later, I realized I could hear Ziggy barking – from the front porch. Hmm…
My mom had left one of the yard gates open. The dogs ran out into the front of my house. While I don’t live on an extremely busy street, it is a street in the city of Seattle with modest traffic, and plenty of places to wander off to. But when I opened the front door, they were safely on the front porch INSIDE a little gate that I have to keep them from running out the front door.
How did they both end up on my front porch on the SAFE side of the gate? If a neighbor did it, they didn’t knock on the door. And to my knowledge, Cooper can’t jump that little gate. And how did they stay together? I’ll never know, but I’m grateful.
Miracle Two
I have a hot tub on my roof deck. It hasn’t heated water in the last couple of years and I’ve assumed this is because I need a new control board. I think it’s not a hard fix but a pretty expensive part for a hot tub I’m on the fence about.
The hot tub is 20 years old. I can’t get a new one because it requires a crane to swing the hot tub up there. So, I’ve gone through some years of replacing parts, many years of not using it, and other years of using it as a cool off tub for the kids.
The other day the kids and I were cleaning it and getting ready to fill it with cold water. I opened the place where the filter goes. Miss O peered in and noticed the head of a kids toy jammed into where the pipes come together.
She got a fork and pried it out. After we finished cleaning it, I filled it up. Guess what? The hot tub works again.
The Giggle
I’ve written in posts about the stories I tell my kids about Simon the bad cat who died six years ago. Like last week’s post, The Archetypes of Story, where I told some favorites about the times he’d run away, break into other people’s houses, and even died on the operating table, only to be revived by kitty CPR.
He’s a favorite character in the house. Even for four-year-old Mr. D who never met him.
So when Mr. D noticed our plastic laundry basket was missing a handle, he said, “What happened to that basket? Did Simon do it?“
It is so good to have someone to blame for everything…





































