Today was the perfect day. Warm, gentle breeze. Clear and sunny. I washed all of our clothes --even the jeans-- and hung them up on the line. You know it's a perfect day when you can wash the jeans in the morning and they get dry before dinner.
When I went to turn the clothes, their outsides were warm and dry, the insides cool and still damp. There is no rushing the drying of laundry on the line. The tending of it, however, marks the day's passing.
The neighbors came over for cocktails and we sat in the shade chatting until we realized it was 7 p.m. and no one had started dinner. Brother, Miss, Granna and myself all made dinner. We ate as the sun slowly sank behind the hill. It's peachy glow lasting for an hour afterwards.
Son spent much of the day cutting dead branches off the trees that Grandpa pointed out. He climbed up a ladder and then into the tall pine while I sat doing my best not to give him too much advice.
We moved the slack line across the field and tested our balance. I crossed with the aid of Son and a walking stick, pausing only at the center to test the bounce.
And swimming, swimming, swimming.
Just a few more days until we go. Trying to soak up every last bit of goodness this place has to share before heading home.