Today's post is a combination of me counting my blessings mixed up with a little virtual tour of what our Saturday mornings look like.
We head out pretty early and always make a beeline for this place where we buy Emma her weekly chocolate chip scone. This may look like a little gourmet shop but actually it is Emma's home away from home. She sometimes works there. Mostly what that means is that she gets to wear an apron and put stuff where it goes. And she gets paid in scones. She and the owner are tight. Emma even has a tab. She is the only person in the world that has that honor.
On our way to the farmer's market we pass the french bakery. Sometimes we are incapable of passing without stopping for a glazed blueberry doughnut which happens to be the best blueberry doughnut ever made. In the history of the world.
Next we head to the market where we always buy more than we intended and always see familiar faces that require us to stop and visit. We never mind.
The one constant on our farmer's market list is the fresh pasta. I will likely cry the first Saturday after the market closes for the season. We have this for dinner every single Saturday night. We love tradition baby.
Next we head to the coffee shop where Em eats her scone and Sweet Hubby and I get our breakfast. At the coffee shop they know us by name and my favorite coffee girl knows what I want without asking. We always try to get a table by the window so we can watch the goings on and sigh about how much we love life in the Village.
Growing up I lived a nomadic life going to 11 different schools. No roots, no real home. My whole life I have searched for my home. I have found it. This morning I walked the streets of my town, breathing in the brisk air, loyal pup at my side and I realized I am exactly where I should be. Sometimes I feel the need to pinch myself.
I know I appreciate it more because of everything that came before it and now I'm giving the girls a place that they can call home. As I give them that gift, I realize I am also giving it to myself.