French essayist Joseph Joubert said that imagination is the eye of the soul.  As I look around the house I see toys strewn about.  Rather than grumbling, I often take pictures of the little vignettes before putting them back where they live.  I have found treasures gifted to me in places ranging from our bed, the stairs, our hallway, the sofa, our kitchen, the porch, and my office just to name a few.  Most are from our daughter, but often the wolfies and the gatos carefully place their lovies where we will discover them as well.  They are reminders to me that I live in a home where love abounds.  I find tea cups on my desk, wet squeaky skunk toys under the covers deposited by the wolfies, and bits of string on our formal dining room table “hunted” by the cats.  Sometimes I have to scold one group or the other from “loving” toys that are not theirs, but for the most part everyone knows what belongs to whom.  Our new toilet is not just a device better for the environment — it’s a rocket ship.  One flush and we are transported through the bathroom skylight to the moon.  We get to eat chocolate every day and there is always a party to which I am invited.  My dressing room is a hair salon where I get served wine from my perfume bottle.  Chalk markings on the sidewalk rival the most mystical of Egyptian hieroglyphs.  Bananas are telephones, underpants become hats, and purses hold “special tickets” to secret events and places.  I have regained my imagination through my child’s eyes and have gotten a glimpse into her sweet, smart, funny, beautiful soul.  I have to go now; we need to walk Pluto and then have our afternoon tea with the wolfies.  There may even be a trip or two to the moon.  😉