How can a couple of full, happy days in Eugene (Oregon) be adequately expressed? Only through the little things, which, it seems, I can never get enough pictures of.
Daffodils, which are like a breath of fresh air, coming from a frigid Chicago winter.
Waking up in Grandma and Bapa's house, to the sound of their water feature outside my window.
Classic, drizzly Oregon rain, which is comforting in its own way.
The happy birdhouses (a.k.a. light-blockers) outside the window. They're ones that Bapa builds, and they are the picture of charm and cheer (not to mention resourcefulness and usefulness when it comes to the need to block a light).
Sharing stories in the living room with Bapa, and cooking with Grandma.
Isn't it always the little things that make life beautiful?
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