Strawberry Rhubarb White Almond Pancakes

What do you do when your farm’s rhubarb is growing like runaway weeds and the strawberries are red, ripe, and in season, too? Daily pie, of course!

Or, even more simply, strawberry rhubarb pancakes every other day for breakfast. Why not?

Fry in plenty of grass-fed butter and top with a sauce made from early summer’s best fruits for a healthy, tasty, gourmet breakfast.

White Almond Pancakes

Dry ingredients

  • 1 cup organic white flour
  • 1 cup almond flour
  • 1/2 cup ground flax seed
  • 1 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
  • 1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg

White almond pancake ingredients

Wet ingredients

  • 2 cups raw milk
  • 2 fresh eggs
  • 1/4-1/2 teaspoon vanilla


  1. Mix dry ingredients together.
  2. Mix wet ingredients separately.
  3. Mix dry into wet.
  4. Refrigerate overnight: optional but recommended for extra thick pancakes.
  5. Fry on the stove in plenty of grass-fed butter.
  6. Top with butter, yogurt, and strawberry rhubarb sauce.

White almond pancakes frying in butter

Strawberry Rhubarb Sauce


  • 2 cups organic strawberries
  • 2 cups chopped rhubarb
  • 2 Tablespoons raw honey

Simmering rhubarb


  1. Simmer rhubarb and an inch of water on the stove for 8 minutes or so, until rhubarb is softened. Drain off water.
  2. Blend rhubarb, strawberries, and honey together using an immersion blender or conventional blender.
  3. Enjoy just like applesauce: on its own, on pancakes or yogurt, or baked into other recipes. Yum!

Strawberry rhubarb white almond pancakes

Summertime Quinoa Bean Salad

What’s not to love about a cold summer salad just about anybody with any diet can eat and that includes endless flavorful toppings?

Easily one of the tastiest, most versatile summertime dishes, I find myself making quinoa bean salad at least every other week in the warmer months.

An excellent side dish for hot dogs, pizza, gazpacho, barbeque, and for picnics and potlucks. Satisfying for lunches, we pack it in Mason jars.

Make a double batch ahead if you’re expecting company from out of town, and you’ll rarely run out of food. Enjoy!



  • 2 cups uncooked quinoa
  • 2 cups / 1 can cooked black beans


  • 1/2 cup avocado oil or olive oil
  • Juice of 1 large lemon (1/4 cup)
  • 2 1/2 teaspoons salt
  • 2 teaspoons cumin
  • 2 jalapeños, seeded and diced
  • 2 red, orange, or yellow bell peppers, seeded and diced

Treats (as many as you like):

  • cooked chicken
  • avocado
  • cherry tomatoes
  • pine nuts
  • feta cheese
  • cilantro
  • green onion
  • zucchini
  • summer squash

Avocado cherry tomatoes salad


1) Thoroughly rinse quinoa using a fine mesh strainer. Bring to a boil with 4 cups water in a medium saucepan. Cover and simmer on low for 15 minutes.

2) Stir sauce ingredients together in a small bowl.

3) When quinoa is cooked, transfer to a large bowl, fluff, and stir in sauce.

4) Fold in beans.

5) Top with optional treats.

6) Eat it hot or allow to cool. Refrigerate.

I Choose Joy May 2017

Truth be told, sometimes day to day life with three young kids can feel like a slog. The constant chores, diapers, laundry, cooking, dishes, potty-training, sweeping, vacuuming, compost dumping, egg gathering, making sure little feet don’t have chicken poo on them, coming up with the exact length and weight that a T-Rex Whale would be if it existed . . . my days are full.

But of course there are the times they’re asleep, or playing nicely together in what they call “the dirt box,” or hugging each other instead of fighting, and somehow it convinces me not to throw in the towel just yet!

And besides, I’d be remiss to overlook all the little joys that add up to make a family’s life. My blessings of this past month include:

  • Fishing with Mamaw and Papaw . . . watching Rig throw a perfect cast and enjoying the kids’ enthusiasm when making a catch!

Papaw and Firebell fishing in Estes Park

Daddy and Rig fishing in Estes Park

  • Sitting on a balcony in Estes Park listening to the constant rush of the river below. If only I could move to that balcony . . .
  • Roasting marshmallows and hot dogs with Mamaw and Papaw and our host family on the farm.
  • Later in the month, a hot dog roast with good friends on a sunny hot Memorial Sunday, right before the cooling rains hit.
  • Firebell’s braided buns

Firebell's braided buns

  • The soothing sound of rain on our roof and the fresh smell of rain out our windows.
  • Taking family pictures of the five of us, on Easter at church and in Rocky Mountain National Park.
  • Rescuing our photos from a drenched box left out in the rain and smiling at our discoveries . . .
Rescued photo of Big Country
Who’s that handsome kid?
  • Walking briskly hand in hand with Big out through the big pasture at night under the full moon to check on the wagon chickens.
  • Discovering a newborn baby calf one morning! We even found the remainder of the bag of waters, so we knew just right where it had been born. So far, the ruddy brown calf with a white spot is being called Brown Sugar by the kids.

Cow and calf tiny house farm

  • Rhubarb pie and fellowship with a friend who has such patience with our kids!
  • Big Country dancing with Firebell to festive krummhorn music one morning as we made breakfast.
krummhorn Iowa State University
Yes, this is a krummhorn. Courtesy Iowa State University.
  • Thunder Snow! Snuggling warm and cozy under our quilts at night, with hot chocolate and skillet potatoes in the morning. But I am glad we soon returned to a lush green Spring.
  • Rig and Firebell prancing and hiding in the tall grass and purple wildflowers, pretending to be tigers.

Tiny house playing in the grass

  • Climbing hand in hand with Rig to the top of a grassy hill overlooking the foothills and the town of Bellvue.
  • The three kids, including baby Hazelnut, sitting together in the sandbox, absorbed in play.

Tiny house kids in the sandbox

  • A last minute business trip of sorts, in a light-filled, well-appointed cabin in Estes Park next to another cabin with Big’s boss and family. The men washed windows at a new hotel by day, and we all enjoyed two fun dinners together in the evening.
  • A sunny pool day with friends. Dangling my feet in the water and dunking baby’s chubby legs.

What are your reasons for joy this month?  I would love to hear from you!

I choose joy spring flowers

I Choose Joy April 2017

This month in the tiny house on the farm was one of ups and downs, sickness and blooming flowers, setbacks and promise of joy to come. Here are some highlights and simple joys of April . . .

  • Spotting a raccoon hurrying along the fence in the moonlight.
  • Mud puddle play in our farm boots.

Playing in mud puddles

  • Hearing neighbors’ peacocks and horses bray in the distance.
  • Pancake breakfast at the local firehouse.
  • Kids riding bikes, jumping on the trampoline, and picking dandelions together.

Picking dandelions outside the tiny house

  • Quiet afternoons reading with a napping baby in my lap.
  • Wildly chasing chickens into their greenhouse in the evening.
  • Running into friends with three little kids our kids’ ages. Life for both of us is unrecognizable from five years ago!
  • Easter egg hunt here at the farm with good friends and their toddler joining ours.
  • Rig’s imaginative stories about T-Rex whales, everwhite apple trees, tsunamis, avalanches, and riding on the backs of sharks.

May you live all the days of your life

  • Giving a massage to a long-time client and friend. It feels good to do something so valuable for someone else!
  • Picnic with Big Country at the coffee house with the kids playing together nearby.
  • Discovery museum with friends . . . stuffed bison, megaladon teeth, unique musical instruments, and of course rubber ducks and trains for the toddlers:)
  • Hot spicy stew and delicious homemade kombucha with friends on a rainy day.

  • Mamaw and Papaw coming into town!
  • A beautiful, colorful, joyful quilt of little houses, made with love by Mamaw.

Steamy Drinks for Chilly Nights

There are few things more comfortingly hygge on a chilly early spring evening than a hot steamy drink. Well, except this:

Shetland ponies in cardigans
Shetland ponies in cardigans, courtesy

Living in Colorado nearly a decade now, I’ve enjoyed a fair share of hot elixirs and their power to warm the blood and uplift the spirit. Here are some favorites, made with healthy, whole foods.

Add the dry ingredients to a large mug or thermos, then hot water, then milk, cream, or vanilla if needed.

Hot Spicy Chocolate

Hot Spicy Chocolate

  • 1 Tablespoon raw cacao powder
  • 1 Tablespoon maple syrup
  • 1 teaspoon grass-fed gelatin
  • 1/8 teaspoon cinnamon
  • 1/8 teaspoon ginger
  • pinch of ground nutmeg
  • pinch of sea salt
  • tiny pinch of cayenne
  • 12 oz hot water
  • 4 oz raw cream
  • 1/4 teaspoon vanilla

Hot Lemonade

Hot lemonade

  • Juice of one large lemon
  • 1 Tablespoon honey
  • 8 oz hot water

Cardamom French Press Coffee

French press coffee

Grind the following together in a coffee mill. Place in French press, pour hot water over and steep for four minutes. Add cream or sweetener to your liking.

  • 10 Tablespoons (5 coffee scoops) whole bean organic fair trade coffee
  • 4-6 cardamom pods

Green Matcha Chocolate

Hot Matcha Chocolate

  • 1 Tablespoon raw cacao powder
  • 1 Tablespoon maple syrup
  • 3/4 teaspoon matcha powder
  • 1/8 teaspoon cinnamon
  • pinch of sea salt
  • 12 oz hot water
  • 4 oz raw cream or milk
  • 1/4 teaspoon vanilla

Honey Milk Tea … for kids and adults

Honey milk tea for kids

  • Good Earth Original Sweet & Spicy tea, steeped 5 minutes in 8 oz hot water
  • 1 teaspoon honey
  • 2 Tablespoons raw milk or cream

Southern Steamer (courtesy Aubrey)

Steamer with molasses

  • 4-8 oz raw milk, heated slowly
  • 1 Tablespoon blackstrap molasses
  • Pinch of dried ginger

I Choose Joy March 2017

Summer and winter and springtime and harvest,

Sun, moon and stars in their courses above

Join with all nature in manifold witness

To Thy great faithfulness, mercy and love.

Spring is in full swing! Here are my moments of thankfulness this past month. Think back . . . what are yours?

Plum blossoms on the farm

  • White plum blossoms emerging on the farm.
  • String lights hung under our loft, a festive glow for the evening to eat, relax, visit with friends, and read.
  • Clean windows! For the first time post-construction, we found time to thoroughly clean the windows, and it makes such a difference.
  • Firebell enjoying a daddy-daughter date and squealing as a calf at the dairy licked her!

Calf at the dairy

  • Teaching Rig about the north slope of mountains by showing him the snowy side of the wood chip piles.
  • Rig to Firebell, pointing to hydrangeas: “those flowers look just like you!”
  • Kids finding blue jay feathers and decorating our table with them.

Blue jay feathers and lemons

  • Cuddling up in the loft at night, our faces pressed together. “You’re my special Firebell.” “And you’re my special Mommy.”
  • Rig explaining that his icecle seed will grow into an icecle the size of a tall pine tree.
  • Baby’s first tractor ride! And the two kids riding in the trailer behind us over the bumpy pasture.
  • The kids so thrilled when we unpacked their books! And us, too. So glad to see the favorites we’ve saved all this time, including the little free library find of the century, a leather bound, author-illustrated The Hobbit!

Firebell reading books in tiny house library

  • Horses we can now see running and frolicking in the neighbor’s pasture.
  • Hearing the kids practice saying the chicken breeds here at the farm: Black Austrolorps, Buff Orpingtons, Araukanas, and Rhode Island Reds.
  • And one hen we’ve named Henny Penny, wandering into our house!
  • Rig telling me about inventing an airplane that plants wildflowers.
  • Dinner visit from our friends who live out in the country in a converted, solar Tuff Shed. A beautiful evening, and good to share it with others who understand the life of a hand-built homestead, an interim home with quirks and challenges.

Tiny house family

  • Our friends, the Italy host family couple, pulling up in their car one rainy night during dinner to come see us and the house … “Hope you don’t mind, we brought three homeless people with us!” All ten of us, seven adults and three kids, standing in the middle of the house talking and pointing around the house at the progress we’ve made, or lack thereof! “This is really nice,” the elderly man in the group softly said.

Tiny house quilt

Pride and Prejudice and Simplicity

“I can’t imagine doing that. What in the world are they thinking?”

We all have those decisions other people make that we stay away from. We may not be aware we do it, but amidst the thousands of choices every day, we categorize things as “that’s me” or “that’s not me.”

Choices about what we eat, drink, wear, drive, watch, read, listen to, talk about. Preferences and tastes from diet to clothes to raising kids.

This helps us know where we stand and builds our confidence as to what we feel we’re doing right. Even more, we start identifying decisions as integral to our personality.

However, we probably don’t have the full picture, and it can bite us in the butt.

I’ve been thinking about things I’ve subconsciously distanced myself from over the years, or, let’s be honest, just plain looked down upon. They include:

  • Mortgage debt, especially putting less than 20% down on a house.
  • Having any credit card debt for any reason.
  • Living at home past your late teens/early 20s.
  • Pursuing a trade, sales, labor, or the military when a college education is at all possible.
  • Driving a junky car with trash, food, and neglected repairs.
  • Leaving toddler toys strewn in the yard.
  • Wearing grubby jeans or work clothes to church or a restaurant.
  • Showering less than every other day or so.
  • Neglecting to write a thank you note for a special gift.
  • Not giving people plenty of notice when inviting them to dinner or a party.

All of the above has elicited some gut reaction along the lines of, “that’s irresponsible” (big mortgage with little down) or “that’s inconsiderate” (junky car and yard).

But now that life has made an abrupt detour down a joltingly rocky country road for us, suddenly there is a fresh view out the window.

Two paths in the green wood

Because housing has been our obsession this last year, we’ve been seeking out conversations with friends about their homes.

To our surprise, some put little or no money down when they bought, as it wouldn’t have affected the interest rate anyway. Instead, they saved the funds for home maintenance and watched the value of their homes climb. And far from being a stereotype of someone grabbing too much house than they can afford and then losing it, these friends are actually in a favorable position in today’s Northern Colorado market.

Renting is financially wiser for millions of people, especially those who would be dependant on their car and an expensive commute if owning.

But I am rethinking my old die-hard beliefs that paying cash for a house is best and that your house is not really “yours” until the bank is no longer invested in it. Our friends who own are invested in their homes, they work hard for their homes, some even love their homes. Who am I to say that they should have waited, just because we have?

Millennial professional

Another prejudice many of us have: young adults, especially one of those dreaded millennials, living at home with older parents. Are they lacking in work ethic? Parasitical? Unlucky? Or something else? We don’t always care to understand how a particular situation came to be and have no historical recollection of this intergenerational living in past decades.

I remember during the college years, bouncing from a dorm to my dad’s house to my mom and step-dad’s house and back, not sure where I really should be living. How much am I imposing here vs. there?

And when I finally graduated after five years and obtained my first (and only) small salaried job that July, the school district I worked for didn’t issue the first paycheck until October. An exercise in patience, I remained living at home for the first several months of being a young professional. Finally, at age 23, I felt ashamed that only just now was I moving into my first apartment. But why this sense of shame?

And how valuable was that college degree anyway? How financially robust would I be if I had spent those years working, saving, and investing instead of going down the college road? What would have been my Roth IRA balance or my house down payment amount after living at home and working those five years, even at minimum wage?

A plethora of what ifs, but the point is, maybe my pride, prejudices, and whole worldview have needed an overhaul for quite some time.

More silly ideas:

Wine is a luxury . . . for special celebrations or people at pretentious parties.”

“Vans are for stodgy people who have no fun . . . or perpetual hippie campers who spend their lives chasing the fun train!”

“Crock pots are for people who think dumping canned beans and a bottle of barbeque sauce together is cooking.”

“Wood stoves are for the Amish.”

“A great deal on clothes would be finding a sporty zip-up sweater on clearance from REI for $25. Patagucci!”

Sweater girl in produce aisle

Well, all I can say is . . . my, how life has changed.

Nowadays, on Saturday nights, we put the kids in the kitchen sink for their weekly bath next to the wood stove and dig through our cardboard boxes for the least rumpled Walmart/thrift/dumpster/hand-me-down shirt and jeans to wear to church. Big Country and I will squeeze in our own showers later tonight, our second, or, rarely, third for the week.

The next morning we hop around mud-caked bikes, scooters, and broken strollers to the truck, shouldering our apocalypse-ready diaper bag and Tupperware dishes to return to a kindly friend to whom we’ll give a hug and a smile. We’d love to write a thank-you note, but the stationary is packed, and we’ve been out of forever stamps for months.

We load the kids into their three car seats, moving aside various wrappers, receipts, work clothes, buckets, boots, glass jars, pecans, the occasional dirty diaper, and even sand.

We slam the doors shut, the dent from the tree we hit and meandering windshield cracks prominent. Further down the driveway at the mailbox, we drop our taxes off, which are taped up in a homemade envelope made from a paper grocery sack. There are over a dozen 2 cent and 4 cent stamps covering the front.

I turn around to the back seat throughout the car ride, spooning yogurt and handing pancakes to the two oldest for breakfast.

Later that day, we’ll call a friend last minute to see if she wants to come over for some homemade soup we started that morning in the crock pot. She comes, and we don’t apologize for the beach towel that still faithfully serves as our bathroom wall five months into living in the tiny house. Instead, we laugh and celebrate under the string lights with a jug of Carlo Rossi poured into Mason jars.

Comedian Jim Gaffigan has a classic sketch about McDonald’s. You find out that somebody you know frequents McDonald’s, and you can’t help thinking, “Well well well! I didn’t know I was better than you.”

But the thing is, everyone has their own McDonald’s. Life is messy. Everyone takes the quick and dirty path sometimes, everyone cuts corners somewhere, because life, much more pursuing the things that matter, can be exhausting.

And looks can be deceiving.

So what does success look like? What does poverty look like? And through all this, what about the heart? What about spiritual poverty amidst material plenty? And the reverse, a life as a diamond in the rough, but a diamond nonetheless?

Big Country and I laugh about when we’re old and we’re still scrounging curbs for furniture and the Salvation Army for free bread but are also buying a third house to rent out and someday gift to our kids on their wedding day.

The kids will have their own prejudices to overcome, and maybe they will think we’re absolutely crazy . . . but just maybe they’ll feel pride that we gave it our all for them, too.

I Choose Joy February 2017

At the beginning of this year, I made a resolution to not only endure but move toward thriving through gratitude.

So now every day I try to write down the simple joys, the unexpected blessings. Through a fog of stress and exhaustion, these joyful times shine through as pinpoints of light.

I choose joy. And this month’s joys are . . .

  • The kids chattering happily together during one of their long, lingering lunches at home.
  • Coffee with a new realtor friend, discussing future possibilities for us, our tiny house, and a new future home.
  • During a particularly difficult morning, Rig encouraging me, “Mommy, it’s going to be a great day . . . tomorrow.”
  • Witnessing a newborn calf nursing and wobbling around at the dairy.
  • Visiting the saw mill with the kids and watching a log loader up close.
  • Our new washerdryer! Thank you Mamaw and Papaw!
Loading the washerdryer combo
Firebell hard at work unloading the washerdryer
  • The freedom to have the kids play safely outside on the farm without me right there.
  • Wearing sandals much of the month! And still burning the wood stove at night.
  • Snuggly, chubby baby asleep against me in the wrap.
  • Sitting in the sun with a good friend watching the kids play at the park.
  • Pizza lunches, laughs, and playtime for the kids with two different sets of friends who let us invite ourselves over after church.
  • A special Valentine’s day dinner put on by our Italy host family of 12, complete with dollar store table decorations, a homemade card, and a timely book about God’s sovereignty and goodness. What better way to spend Valentine’s than with a dozen kids? We love you, too!

Homemade Valentine's day card

  • Watching pink sunrises out the loft window as we wake up.
  • The kids laughing gleefully at our Mr. R using the wood chipper.

Rig and Firebell on the farm watching the wood chipper

  • The grass arriving!
  • Running outside to take down diapers and clothes from the clothesline just in time before the evening rains.
  • Hunting for hard-to-find eggs in the nests the chickens have been secretly making in the bushes . . . our very own Easter egg hunt!
  • Seeing myriad clumps of pristine snow on the evergreen boughs on the way through Lyons to Estes Park.
  • Big Country building our sleeping loft and surprising me with flowers in my favorite colors.
  • Feeling more at home here in the tiny house.

Onward to March, and on to Spring!

I Choose Joy January 2017

My New Year’s resolution this year, what I’m resolved to do because it’s difficult but vital, is Joy. This year, I’m on the hunt for joy in the simple things.

I could easily drown in the worries of today . . . and they are very real . . . but instead I want to be grateful for what is good and pure and true.

This is partly because it’s the right thing to do, to give us a real perspective on how blessed we are and plant gratitude deep in the heart. But partly, it’s simply so that I can continue to endure this season and not just survive but thrive.

Thrive . . . bloom, blossom, boom . . .

. . . flourish, grow, prosper . . .

. . . shine, radiate, rise, wax . . .

And so, some simple joys this month . . .

  • The farm’s new roosters! Hearing them cock-a-doodle-do, watching them strut, the shiny black feathers flashing green in the sun. Listening to the kids talk about, imitate, and name them (Ponytail and Orange).
  • The kids eating up their rice and beans and asking for seconds and thirds. I guess they’re not feeling deprived!
  • Dinner with friends here at the tiny house, pleasantly discussing wood stoves, frozen hoses, truckloads of squash, and medicinal tea sales at the nearest bargain grocery.
  • Not having TV during an election season!
  • The grocery store’s florist offering us a free sample bouquet of fresh flowers.
  • Becoming more versatile with simple, hearty meals. Favorites: 1) oatmeal with nuts, seeds, dried fruit, butter, and cream; 2) rice and beans cooked in homemade broth with onions and herbs; 3) harvest stew with beef, pumpkin, apples, and beets.
  • Gathering eggs, sometimes surprised by six or eight under one hen.
  • Catching up at a friend’s while doing laundry and enjoying some breathing space in a big house.
  • Watching a sleek coyote stalk geese across the frosty pasture one early morning.
  • Watching big hay bales being delivered on a semi truck next door at the feed store.
  • Being trusted and needed by the farmer and his wife on whose land we live. Falling into the rhythm of life on a farm in winter.
  • Making the long, scenic drive to church and drinking a thermos of hot chocolate while catching up with Big.
  • Warm, sun-filled days walking across the pasture, watching the kids play in the creek bed, play king of the mountain on the wood chip piles, bulldoze through leaves in the garden, and fly down the porch ramp on their scooter.
  • Visiting our Italy-traveling host family of 12 for the day, the kids running around and playing for hours.
  • Attending a jewelry party with lots of fun gals, baked brie, and my sweet sleeping baby. No need to buy anything for me; the camaraderie and the break itself were well worth it.
  • Gaining confidence in problem-solving issues that have arisen with the house: planing the door so it doesn’t stick; cleaning out creosote from the chimney.
  • A cheery, fiercely burning fire in the wood stove at night.
  • A spark of hope, energy, and optimism about a future career and even long-term housing prospects. We are moving forward in the adventure!

What are your simple joys of this month? Share in our newly opened comments below!

Aurora Gladness: a New Year has Dawned

What a gift that we get to start over every day, every month, every year.

I love imagining the year as one continual paper calendar, the months extending down, down, down like a scroll unfurled. And then, as if by magic, sometime in the night of December 31st, we’re shot up to the very top again to begin the year anew. Starting the year on top – that’s a good feeling.

Resolutions for each new year are a positive thing, because they signify that we want to begin putting energy into the things we value. And resolutions are the best if they’re not make-or-break, if you can’t fall off the wagon once and fail.

I realize that last year, my unspoken resolution was simply endurance. To keep our family together through multiple moves and transitions; to keep our health, finances, and kindness toward one another intact as we pushed ourselves to the mental and physical limit with the tiny house build.

In many ways we failed in these aspects, having shredded our immunity with stress, drained our resources dry just to procure basic shelter, and snapped at the kids all too often, reacting from impatience, exhaustion, and fear for the future.

However, by the skin of our teeth, we’ve come into the new year at least still here! We’ve survived, endured, and still love each other at the end of the day.

As we emerge into port with ripped sails and a battered hull, this coming year my resolution is joy. Like love, joy does not capriciously happen. It’s an action, a pursuit, a deliberate, patient seeking. This year, I choose joy.

I choose joy

So through the day, I am beginning to jot down a record of moments that make up the best parts of the day, the parts we smile about but don’t always take time to really be grateful for. When we lay in bed in the still of the night, do we dwell on tasks yet undone, future worries, past regrets? Could we instead dwell at the end of a long day on the simple, sweet joys?

This year, when it is not always easy, I will pursue joy and a dawning of thankfulness.

“Lift up the light of your face upon us, O Lord! You have put more joy in my heart than they when their grain and wine abound. In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.” Psalm 4:6-8

Big Country and baby simple joys