I am outside (blessed wireless) and sitting on my backyard patio gazing out at the pool and the small, but still bigger-than-my-postage-stamp-sized lot in NVA. The grass is green, and we have a row of sunflowers planted from seed in mid-July that are now 6 feet tall. It is 7 am, so it is still cool at 78 degrees, with a nice breeze. Helen is out here keeping me company, wearing nothing but her pink Hello Kitty panties and drawing ritualistic patterns on the ground with pink and orange chalk. She just showed me an ant that she gleefully captured on a sticker; I think there may be a ritual sacrifice performed shortly.
I never was a morning person before I had children, as
spiderlady can attest. But now it is the time when I have the house to myself (mostly) and there is quiet where I can ponder and dream, percolate and plan. Alas, the family is awake, and sleepily descending down the steps to the piteous cries of "change me" and "so what are we doing today"? The chorus of demands has begun and I must now assist in Helen's desires to make an "arts and craps" project for her Grandma.
Have a great Labor Day, everyone.