Nowhere to go on a Saturday. Nothing pressing to do.
Well, chores, there's ALWAYS chores, isn't there?
I can't remember the last time Ben and I lay in bed on a Saturday morning saying,
"What do we have to do today?"
"I can't think of anything. What do YOU want to do today?"
"Oh, I don't know, READ!"
"Hah, okay, then I'll watch football."
"Hmm. I guess we should get some stuff done around the yard, maybe call the sheriff about these two stray dogs we've been boarding for five days, clean out the chicken coop, till the garden, mow the lawn..."
"Welp, we better get up then."
The "uugghhh," was me, of course.
So we spent the day in grubby clothes, working in the yard, together (realistically, it was more like work, play, work, play...). All of us. Including three, and at times, four dogs as our cheering section. Lazy dogs. Why we're a magnet for stray and neighborhood dogs is beyond me?
These are my favorite kind of days. Working/playing together, outside all day, grubby-and-not-caring, simple. I love sitting outside after the work is done, looking around at all we've accomplished. It's satisfying to feel like you're taking care of what you've been given. And at the same time it makes you THAT much more grateful for what you have, instead of what you don't. It's so easy to get caught in that trap, isn't it? Work is good for the soul. Speaking of soles, somebody needs to buy HIMSELF a new pair of socks!!
** In other news: have you ever asked yourself how crumbs get into your silverware drawer?
I can't figure it out.