sNOw more

Perspective–to look through, to see clearly.

This morning’s snow must be endured, says pup one.  Stay within the tracks that someone or something else has laid down.  Do your business. Get back inside. sNOw more.

This morning’s snow is meant to be plowed, says pup two. This stuff is head burying, mole sniffing fun! MOM! Watch me gallop through this stuff!  Hahahahahahaha!! SNOW MORE!!!!

It’s all in how you see it.

 

 

The World of May Laura Stevenson: (kinda) wordless wednesday

May Laura entered the world and like most babies knew only enough to scream for some food, and maybe a bit of heat.  What she didn’t know–wouldn’t realize for some time–was that she was swaddled immediately by family. Six older siblings would plant their first kisses; parents of her parents would come coo a lullaby.  Aunts and uncles and cousins would bring gifts and greetings as the the muddy roads permitted.  May Laura Stevenson, born April 29, 1874, would grow up along the Monongahela River, just outside the bustling town of Greensboro surrounded by her kin, and by the memories of those who had lived along those banks for decades.  Ellis and Mary Jones Stevenson came from settler stock, and among their ancestors were distillers and fullers, iron furnace operators and glass blowers, hotel owners and farmers. Phillips, Gregg, Stevenson, Eberhart, Jones, Rhodes–all families that had shaped the life along the Monongahela since 1800.  Baby May would find great comfort in that sense of place, in that network of love.  Life would hold some very hard lessons.