My son’s yellow school assignment folder sits in front of me on my messy computer desk. The folder, only a few weeks old, is crumpled and torn. He’s not fastidious about how he arranges his backpack each day like my oldest daughter is. I’ve tried to teach him to put the big items in first, then the smaller ones in front of the bigger ones, to allow for less crumpled homework. I may need to spring for a sturdier folder, as this one isn’t going to make it to Christmas.
The kids are all outside, playing with construction vehicles on our driveway. While I despise the gravel drive (all 1300 feet of it), with its potholes and rocks, the kids love it. They love using their loaders to make the lines of their dirt town, of filling the dump trucks with gravel and rocks. They see the beauty of the road, while I wish for tar and colored chalk, to draw rainbows and flowers and hopscotch.
The rest of the house is quiet. I heard the washing machine beep, telling me the towels are finished and need to be put into the dryer. I keep hearing the rooster crow his loud cock-a-doodle-doo from the coop, where the chickens have been banished after they wandered too far this weekend and encountered our neighbor’s dog, who while normally tolerant of them, got a bit fiesty and Red Eye, one of the Brahma hens, became his victim. I prefer the chickens in their coop; technically the hens aren’t an issue, but Stubby the rooster, is nasty and attacks us all. So he keeps on yelling his displeasure from one side of the yard and the kids keep playing on the other, and I’m thinking that I might pick up a book and read for a minute, but no, the dinner needs to get started soon so Doug can go to a hockey meeting tonight.
It’s a good life.
I finally decided to jump in and join Just Write from Heather at The EO (link to her Just Write page). Come on over and join the fun!