Yesterday morning started like so many mornings.

Klomp-klomp etta klomp-komp.  Klomp-klomp etta klomp-komp.

We have deer on the roof again.  Yes!  I jump from the computer, and my chair almost falls to the floor.  ”Martin!” I shout.  ”Santa is coming!”

He grumbles a little; he’s still trying to sleep.

“Santa, Martin!  Santa.”

Klomp-klomp etta klomp-komp.  Klomp-klomp etta klomp-komp.

There are at least four deer on the roof now.

Martin smiles one of those not-awake-grins and reminds me, “First off, they’re mule deer, not reindeer.  You know that.  And second, it’s Easter.”

Then he’s back asleep.  The deer discover there is no food growing on the roof.  (Okay – nothing is really growing here yet.)  So they wander off, too.

I sit back at my desk and wonder, “Why aren’t I celebrating these things?”

How often do we document the little moments worth celebrating?

At the tire house, I decided it wasn’t enough.  So yesterday morning, I started writing in {Love Where We Live}, the home minibook from Gadanke.  It’s time to celebrate life in a tire house because as weird as it is, IT’S HOME.

I picked this journal:

Then I went outside, spooked the deer, and started snapping photos for my journal.

Here’s a piece of art on the exterior of the house.  I always wonder:  how did they pick this exact tire to display here?

You’ve seen the front door and taken the tire house tour.  But I’ve never shown you the back door.  The UPS man knows this door well.  He’s always bringing me journal supplies that I can’t get from the little shops in town.

And that’s it!  The rest of the house is buried in the back of a little hill.  The deer just wander on up like the tire house is just a little part of nature.

And what do you know.  There’s a contest out there for the 2011 Redneck Yard of the Year in blog land.  (And a reality check.) I think it’s supposed to be for gardening and grass, but I’m pretty sure you’d chip your shovel on the frozen ground around here.  And that rare little patch of green grass on the last picture?  Well that’s what the deer were nibbling until I waltzed outside in my down coat to take pictures.

What a weird house!  :)

On Saturday night, I don’t think I’ll sleep a wink.  Patta-patta-pattpapapapaptptaptpatpapt. That’s the sound of a (EASTER!) bunny on the roof.