Angel Wheeler

love

  • 12 months

    It’s unbelievable. It’s inconceivable. It’s unfathomable. I’m sitting up in bed with you sleeping soundly beside me,  studying your precious face and shaking my head in disbelief.  Can this really be true? One year, Emma Kate.  One year. This time last year, after a serious ordeal of labor and delivery, you made your appearance and have… Read more

  • Birthday Letters

    On January 16, 1943 my dad was born.  I don’t know anything about his birth.  Whether he was born in a hospital or at home.  Whether he was a good baby or a tyrant.  How much he weighed or if he sucked his thumb. Today if he were still living, he would have turned 70… Read more

  • Just Because

    Just because it’s Tuesday (I think). Just because she’s 9.5 months old (tomorrow). Just because she hasn’t pulled her hair bow out or her socks off (yet). Just because she’s been under the weather and today is the first day in nearly a week that she is back to her old self (almost). Just because… Read more

  • 9 months

    Hey Emma Kate, You’ve made it nine months so far and boy has the time really flown.  You are a such a joy!  We are so blessed to have you.  You have no idea how much you have enriched our lives.  And not just me and daddy, but all of your family. My heart is… Read more

  • 8 months

    Hey sweet Emma! You’re a little doll, dear.  As beautiful as ever, and growing so big. For a while now you’ve been belly crawling, but this month you decided to try out the old hand and knee crawl.  It’s still a bit clumsy, and you really only do it when you don’t have a shirt… Read more

  • Feeding the Big Chickens

    We recently had a family picnic at the park.  It was a beautiful September day and we were in the big city, so we decided to grab a couple burgers and enjoy them under the treetops. The park has a big lake with walkers and joggers circling it.  A few fisherman had cast their poles… Read more

  • Picture Perfect

    After we buried my dad February of last year, I drove back to Texas basically with a pickup, plants, and a photograph. The pickup still sits in front of my yard, longing for a spin around town. The plants, I’m proud to say, are flourishing. And the photo sits on a shelf in my dining… Read more

  • 6 months

    Precious, darling Emma Kate, Look at you grow, girl!  Mama doesn’t even know where to begin telling you about your very busy month. I have so much to say, so I guess instead of starting at the beginning, I’ll just start at the top. Your hair. It has lightened up some, still brown,  and is… Read more

  • Outside

    Our baby girl loves it outside. No matter the mercury reading, she hasn’t learned to complain about the heat yet.   We haven’t cut her hair to look like a mohawk on it’s way to growing out, it’s just the way her hair, well is growing out.  Possibly one of the reasons she’s mistaken for… Read more

  • In Memory of my dad—number forty something

    The green spiraled journal draws me in. It belonged to my dad. The very first thing I bought when I became an adult was a storage building.  It sits on my mom’s property (once upon a time it was my grandmother’s property) and my dad put a few boxes of belongings in there nearly twenty… Read more