The sum of a week in a few sentences. What I write will be so much less than what it was. There were days where I felt as if I crawled through, a clawing tiredness dragging at my heels, and being okay was good enough. A friend missed. Not enough sleep, or time to do anything other than hold a baby boy full of cold.
There were days outside, with friends, and picnics. Many trips to the park. Frozen watched again and again. Gardens played in, fingernails soiled. Thoughts of Ezra’s first birthday. A Spring Cape made and a felted painting gifted.
There were smiles pressed against the glass, and pleas of play in the garden. Yesterday, we spent with friends we don’t get to see as often as we’d like. After they left, I walked with Ava on my back to the shop. It was that magic time of day, the heavy part of an afternoon. Someone on our street was having a barbecue. The smell stalked us there and back. Two girls were cartwheeling on their driveway.
The sky was grey and here and there, teased us with raindrops. But summer is a state of mind. The soil on the ground, the princess tent on the grass. When each of our individual stories come together, when it ends up being just the story of a day, the same story, that we share and tell each other and do our best to remember. And I feel inflated, weightless, happy.