It’s the kind of day that is so noteworthy in its simplicity, it has to be documented and appreciated, lest it slip away into the normal chaos and forgotten.
It’s THIS kind of day:
the day that is so beautiful I can’t resist walking around the flowerbeds, barefoot, looking at the creamiest double daffodils
…and wondering where all the baby pink tulips are. They’re late. Or, worse, they’ve stood me up this year. (And once a tulip stands you up, it’s all downhill from there.)
the sort of day in which I stand in the closet in front of a full length mirror with a child and talk him through the new starting routine for his batting stance: “knuckles…knees…lean forward, not back… bat on bicep… then UP…. relax… hit.” And then I jump back and yell when he swings the bat in the closet, perfectly, and almost breaks the full length mirror. I had told him not to swing, but he couldn’t help it.
the sort of day where lipstick red geraniums, purple million bells and chartreuse sweet potato plant just HAVE to be bought.
the sort of day where I have to go pick up a kid early and cut short the time with the plants because the child has a Mystery Rash that’s begging for an old fashioned oatmeal bath with a chaser of Benadryl.
the sort of day for “Magic Man” by Heart, an open sunroof, flip flops, a ponytail, and lamenting the sad state of my toenails. Too bad I’m too ticklish for pedicures.
the type of day where 3 little boys wiggle like puppies all the way to school and back. And I can hardly blame them.
The type of day where it’s bright and beautiful, lazy, and there’s all the time in the world for books, flowers, children, baseball, and pets, and no time at all for laundry, dishes, fussy dinner plans, or errands.
If I were sitting in a dappled sunny patch on a wooden porch swing my daddy hung on the back patio of a little brick house in central Texas, barefoot with sun-streaked hair in pigtails, age 4… gorgeous german shepherd named Heidi running around and purple petunias in a flower pot and a jug of my mother’s sun tea next to us, porch swing chains creaking noisily in the breeze… that is what this day feels like.
It’s pretty sweet.
I love you.
9:32 pm
Batting stance… gotta love a mom who knows about such things.
I swear I’ve actually done the Magic Man by Heart with the top down thing. And I did it without shame while people looked on. Are you really old enough to remember that song? Hmmm…
All the way down to the creaky porch swing, it sounds like perfection to me. Hope there are many more… : )
6:07 am
I love your description in that last paragraph. I’ve never been to Texas, but I can feel the happiness and contentment of that kind of day. Ahhhhhh.
Geekwif recently posted..Jane Eyre Again And Other Books
9:16 am
LInda,
well, to be perfectly honesty, i know NOTHING about batting stances. but the coach had me memorize the thing and hopefully i got it right. if not, i ended up ‘uncoaching’ him into a totally new and wrong batting stance. that’s fairly likely. but hey, we tried!
Magic Man, blaring, oh YES. I’m 35 – that song became a favorite for playing in the background while working on punching drills. you know, all that ‘magic hands’ stuff. : )
Geekwif,
Some day, you’ll just have to SHOW UP. As Lyle sings, “That’s right, you’re not from Texas, but Texas wants you anyway.” (And so do the porch swings and petunias.)
11:30 pm
what a great description of paradise.
Jennifer Sullivan recently posted..7…It’s my B-day- oh & I’m pregnant
9:59 pm
Oh, porch swings and petunias and your little pigtails! Happy sigh. *That* kind of day. I totally get it.