Beautiful
(Day Fifty)
I'm sitting in the backyard swing, Clyde beside me, typing away and listening to the spring breeze through the trees. It's beautiful out. Even though it's almost 11am now, the air and the light still have that early morning quality that sometimes makes me wish I were a morning person. The day just feels so fresh and brand new in the morning.
I probably should take advantage of this time to pull up the onion grass already invading the day lilies, or to trim back the bushes colliding with each other under the guest bedroom window, but I just want to sit here and pretend like I have nothing to do. So I'm going to. In fact, in a second I'm going to go find a new book to read so I can just lay here and space out. Nice weather is seriously the best.
This year will be our third summer in our house. Our third summer watching the progression of summer flowers, from the daffodils and allium in April to the roses and day lilies in July. Our third year of lawn mowing and dandelion-battling and struggling to keep the bird feeders full. I never put too much thought into how nice it would be to have a house of my own, but I really love it. I say that not having to do a lot of the more unpleasant things Michael handles, like getting into the crawl space or cleaning the gutters, and I'm ignoring the expensive parts, but still. It's nice to build your own area of the world. And over time, as we get to the little and big projects that will make this house more-and-more our own, like finishing the attic, or redoing the patio stones so they don't stick up and trip people, or fixing the slanted deck stairs, the more our house will really be an extension of the life we're living in it. I see why people get attached to houses.
I don't really have a point with this post, except to say that the weather's beautiful, spring is beautiful, and having a home is beautiful. And now falling asleep outside on the swing with a book on my chest will be beautiful, too.
I'm sitting in the backyard swing, Clyde beside me, typing away and listening to the spring breeze through the trees. It's beautiful out. Even though it's almost 11am now, the air and the light still have that early morning quality that sometimes makes me wish I were a morning person. The day just feels so fresh and brand new in the morning.
I probably should take advantage of this time to pull up the onion grass already invading the day lilies, or to trim back the bushes colliding with each other under the guest bedroom window, but I just want to sit here and pretend like I have nothing to do. So I'm going to. In fact, in a second I'm going to go find a new book to read so I can just lay here and space out. Nice weather is seriously the best.
This year will be our third summer in our house. Our third summer watching the progression of summer flowers, from the daffodils and allium in April to the roses and day lilies in July. Our third year of lawn mowing and dandelion-battling and struggling to keep the bird feeders full. I never put too much thought into how nice it would be to have a house of my own, but I really love it. I say that not having to do a lot of the more unpleasant things Michael handles, like getting into the crawl space or cleaning the gutters, and I'm ignoring the expensive parts, but still. It's nice to build your own area of the world. And over time, as we get to the little and big projects that will make this house more-and-more our own, like finishing the attic, or redoing the patio stones so they don't stick up and trip people, or fixing the slanted deck stairs, the more our house will really be an extension of the life we're living in it. I see why people get attached to houses.
I don't really have a point with this post, except to say that the weather's beautiful, spring is beautiful, and having a home is beautiful. And now falling asleep outside on the swing with a book on my chest will be beautiful, too.