May Day

I am sitting in a quiet house, pleasantly tired from a long, busy day.  The whole house smells like sunshine from the nine loads of wash I hung on the line today, and the sight of the folded flannel sheets and electric blanket make me feel all fuzzy with accomplishment.  Of course, not everything got done.  There's unstable piles of folded clothes on the coffee table, and lots of dirty dishes stacked around my kitchen.  To offset that sight, though, there are numerous little weed bouquets strategically placed around the house, picked and arranged by grubby, earnest little fingers.

I always want more time.  The pictures I finally learned to download from my new camera are crying to be put up on this blog.  There's a delicious heap of books on my nightstand, patterns and material down beside my dusty sewing machine, "electronic devices" trying to seduce my late night hours.  I'm glad for times when I can realize that having this paucity of free time is due to the wonderfully rich life I have.

Upstairs, there is a little girl sleeping in my bed (one of the few benefits to Daddy being gone for work).  No matter how she tried to stave off sleep, her busy day caught up to her before Mommy got out of the shower.  And that shower?  The first cool shower of the season, and the delightfulness of feeling the heat wash out of my hair.

The suitcases still haven't been put away from the weekend's trip, nor all the manure washed off the kids' rubber boots.  But just the sight of these little farm girls makes me glad we have such interesting places to visit.

And so, "to sleep, perchance to dream".  And to wake up in the morning to another busy, lovely day.