Sunday

Breakfast.  Porch. It's cool outside, but so very lovely.

Every flower that still blooms is special. Every lily is beloved.

You want to come with me and lift boulders out of the field? You may think that’s a quaint sort of invitation, maybe not up there with dinner and a movie, but I like it, because it has more to do with a quiet walk on a gorgeous morning than anything else.  It’s not about the boulders -- Ed does not ask for help with much of anything.

I hadn’t been out there, behind the barn, where Farmer Lee is preparing the soil for next year’s crops for quite a few weeks. My attention is so focused on the farmhouse that I forget about what happens out back.

When did we come to have a meadow of goldenrod??

So Ed picks boulders out and I watch the farmers to the north do their work...

..until he gets to the biggest boulder of them all...

 

... and this one he does need help with and we put all our strength behind it so that we can slide it onto a wheelbarrow and push it elsewhere...

Where? Ed asks.

Oh, by the tree where some child someday will play and maybe pretend it’s a table, to serve pretend tea, or maybe hide behind because sometimes you just have to hide when the world gets tough and mean around you...
Ed groans at the thought. Or maybe it is that he groans because the boulder is so heavy to move.

In the afternoon, I come outside as Ed untangles string and Isis looks on...

I pull him away to bike to the tennis courts and we put in a decent game there and after, I bike to yoga. A bit ambitious, all that biking, tennis playing and yoga, but it’s Sunday and how many days will we have that are this good, this bright, this delightfully energizing?

In the evening the young people come to dinner and one can’t really keep up with young people, but we try, we try...

The tomato seafood sauce – Ed asks later. All from our tomatoes?
Well of course.

He grins, proudly I think.