Of many blessings.

Wednesday was a birthday, for my youngest son. He's full of life and a little bit crazy in a spontaneous, adventurous, curious sort of way. I love that about him. I don't think I've ever heard him say he was bored, there's just too much fun to be had in his life. One particular moment that stands out for me is the time he came home with a broken arm. I'm a mom, of course I want to know how it happened. Seems he had the brilliant notion to see if his buddies could launch him off the end of a trailer like a catapult. He stood on one end while his buddies jumped on the other. Yep, it worked...he sailed high into the air...hovered...and then came crashing down...aaand broke his arm. I admit, I laughed, that is so him.



For this birthday, he asked for something handmade by me. Uh, okay, let me think on this. It's tough to make handmade for men so I had to think real hard, but then it came to me. For all his life he's been a collector of treasures, whether it be sticks or rocks or key chains or Jones soda bottles. He's got buckets and bags and boxes of treasures, but one collection that continues to grow is the rocks or, more specifically, the agates we collect in Grand Marais. It's a family tradition that began when Kyle was just a babe, barely able to walk, and every summer we would camp with his grandmother on the shore of Lake Superior. She loved collecting agates and he caught the rock hunting bug from her. I thought he should have something cool (just like him) to hold this treasure.



Happy birthday darling. I want a bag like this too.