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My family (well, just Lu, Mom & me) was doing a little Paschal rendition of The Sound of Music, and that’s how Mom sang it. Forget the roses, it’s all about the kittens.

Tonight was the first night of “the season.” You know, the social whirlwind begins – children roll in the grass, god-daughters are twirled, babies drool, and the sun is still up when we get out of vespers. The only thing that makes it better is when the blueberries are ripe. “We’ll eat blueberries this summer” I said to Q, and she said “blueberries” and then I ate her cheek in lieu of a blueberry. But seriously, there’s something perfect about those nights when it’s warm enough and light enough for everyone to congregate on the benches after church, and the children frolic and babies are passed around.

My mind is fairly blank at the moment. There’s some little thoughts of sunshine in there, and a stroll through the neighborhood. I’m looking at the tree outside my window that earlier some girls were trying to climb. We had a few girls from church over for a tea party. I started to feel like I was, oh, ten. I was even persuaded to try and jump to reach a particular branch. I failed, but the words that came out of my mouth were “I bet I could do it if I were wearing different shoes and pants instead of a skirt.” Yes. I’m ten. Remember when I got my ears pierced and felt thirteen? I think I’m regressing. Anyway, put a plate of petit-fours in front of a six year old, a seven year old, and a ten year old and watch them disappear. And strawberries and cream…mmm.

I’m drowsy Saturday afternoon mood now…drinking a little coffee, curling up on the couch, the intro song from Napoleon Dynamite stuck in my head. What am I going to do with myself this afternoon?

Whatever I feel like I want to do. Gosh!

Amen.

May 2005
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