full, to the brim

There weren't enough hours today and yet, somehow, the day closed with a feeling of total satisfaction. Even if we could not take big steps forward, we surely took enough little steps to feel all stepped out.

The day started many hours before sunrise. Ed and I talked about work. Sometimes the night hours are good for this. You become very issue focused, zeroing in on the key points. So we talked and zeroed in and then caught another hour of sleep, but no more, because there's much that has to be done today.

Big things, little things. Finish digging. Fix dripping toilet. Work on porch steps. Work on work.

Phew! I'm sweating just thinking about it. Let's pause and admire a few day lilies.






Alright, breakfast. Does Ed look strained? Well, maybe just a little bit.






I pull him out with me to the Flower Factory. I want just a few lilies to replace the ditch ones I dug out. But really, I want an excuse to go out here so that he can rest, far from computer, far from much of anything except the flowers around us. Ah, there's that smile.







Back at the farmette, I dig and I dig, but not for long. I have a very important lunch date -- celebrating my daughter's weekend birthday. I meet the young family at Graze downtown and of course there are gifts, including two cook books. We (my daughters and I) are a family that devours cook books. I see that Snowdrop is going to join us in this.









am I doing this right, mommy?



It's a lovely lunch. A beautiful moment of peaceful enjoyment.







And after, my girl, Snowdrop and I take a walk along State Street -- that funky street that links the university with the Capitol. We do some minor shopping. Here, my daughter admires bracelets while Snowdrop and I admire the mirror.






Afternoon. I'm back at the farmhouse digging, digging...






And toward evening, Snowdrop is dropped over here so that the parents can quietly continue the birthday celebration. So indeed, if it's Tuesday, it must be Snowdrop at the farmhouse day.






Evening comes far too quickly. I glance outside. Oh, summer is really rushing now toward the season's end.


 


Snowdrop and I play and I realize that this is her last long visit here until much later in the month. Will she be completely grown up then? It surely seems that she grows in leaps and bounds.

It's an evening with a lot of laughter. Oh, does that girl know how to laugh!






... and how to love. And be loved right back.






Oh, Snowdrop!