Today I took advantage of the year’s first summery day (we may have reached 90 degrees) to get my butt in gear. I’ve been going through something this spring and haven’t had my usual enthusiasm for getting outside to play and putter in the yard. So I spent half the day cleaning garden beds, weeding, raking, digging, replanting, pruning, and generally doing all the stuff most people do in mid-April.
The kids are finally at the age where they don’t need me to entertain them every five seconds — they “helped” me garden, but mostly played with each other. Yeah, they fought too, but I’m getting pretty good at tuning that out until there is actual bloodshed. (Today Ellie bit Joanna pretty good and earned herself a very long indoor timeout. Ouch.)
I pulled the plastic baby pool from the basement, dusted it off, and filled it with freezing hose water. The kids didn’t care. Bathing suits were donned faster than I could say “You can’t all fit in there at once!” I forgot sunscreen, but thanks to our giant linden tree everyone but me avoided getting sunburned.
I’m glad I went outside. Too often lately I’ve felt like huddling indoors, curling under a blanket, napping the afternoons away. (But that’s a topic for another day, I guess.) Even when the afternoon got hairy (after Mitzi’s riding lesson we had to rush to Quincy to get Ray from the red line then rush back to Hingham to feed the kids so Cooper could get to a baseball practice — in an hour, in commuter traffic), I breathed well and hardly yelled at all.
Tonight the wind blows through the house, through every open window and every crack and crevice of this old structure, brushing gently over the exposed arms of the exhausted kids, rustling work papers to the office floor, whispering and calling me to the back porch where I’ll ponder the night sky and remember New Hampshire mountains and New Jersey lakes, all the summer winds that rocked me to bed for so many years when I always knew I was safe.
I can almost believe that this one is the same sort of breeze.