Makiya is off to school, Gerry just left for a hike, the pups are snoozing and I'm finally taking some time to write this post. The first week of school comes to an end today and we're all settling into new routines. It's been a good week—a different week—but one rich with good things. Time
It’s a beautiful afternoon so, after watering the garden and pulling a few weeds, we head to the nearby park to walk. It’s okay. We’re encouraged to get outside and enjoy our city parks. People on blankets in the grass, and towels on the beach, appears to be practicing appropriate social distancing. Something new, since
The sun shines through the east facing window kissing the bunch of tulips on the dining table. The light is magical. I’d like to put the macro lens on my camera and play but there are other more pressing things to do. I grab my phone and take a quick shot to mark the moment.
I’m joining in with a group of writers for Five Minute Friday where we’re given a prompt (this week it’s BACK and write for five minutes about it. It’s the last full day of Camp G and G. It’s been a fun-filled couple of weeks with bowling, theatre intensive, scavenger hunts, star gazing, ice cream,
There’s no mistaking the changing season after dark. Still smitten by the wonder of the night sky, we take our barefoot selves out into the yard to see what we can see with a Gerry’s telescope. One by one we go back into the house and return wearing hoodies. Makiya and I remain shoeless, but
We enjoy barbecued burgers, a couple games of Trouble, and a hot tub. It’s still not dark enough for the surprise Gerry and Makiya have cooked up, so we watch a couple episodes of an old 80’s show on Amazon Prime and eat ice cream while we wait. The appointed time arrives. I’m instructed to keep
I know, it’s still summer. But I feel the whisper of changing seasons in the air and I don’t know that I’ve ever been as ready for autumn as I am this year. Half the garden is already lying fallow. I chose not to plant a fall crop of anything and I’ve started pruning the tomato
When she arrived, nearly two weeks ago, it was still winter. The melt had just started in earnest, but the backyard—the north-facing yard—was still white. On that first day, I predicted that the snow would all be gone by the time she went home. ”Don’t talk about me going home,” she said. No, I suppose
August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time. Sylvia Plath I’m joining in with a group of writers for Five Minute Friday where we’re given a prompt (this week it’s RUSH) and write for five minutes about it. Today, the last day of what
When we lose one blessing, another is often most unexpectedly given in its place. C.S. Lewis It’s an ordinary moment; the best ones are. Makiya is tucked into bed with a book, I’m on the couch nursing a back in spasm, and Laurinda is sitting on the floor folding laundry. We’re chatting and half-watching an
Surely, two of the most satisfying experiences in life must be those of being a grandchild or a grandparent. Donald A. Norberg I go to the garden early, before the heat of the day makes it uncomfortable to work there. I go alone, because I want to do another careful and concentrated harvest of green