Yesterday I walked into the bathroom to put away clean towels
and saw
a tiny little frog on the potty.
In the process of trying to get him back outside,
he pooped on the potty.
Tim quipped that if he wants to be an indoor frog,
he's going to have to practice pooping in the potty.
Anjali rescued him by dropping a towel over him gently
and taking him outside.
We rotated chores today and Mark chose poultry.
He let the chickens out, fed them breakfast,
and caught his favorite, Brownie, for a hug.
Growing up fast, my farmer boy.
I am counting weeks and wondering when eggs are coming.
For a year, I've wanted a clothes line, no easy feat in the woods.
Just this last week, Tim put up a permanent one in the basement and a temporary one outside.
There is something about clothes on a line that makes me happy.
Maybe it's the simply domesticity or
the brightly colored clothes flapping in the breeze or
the smell of sunshine or
the happy shape of clothespins.
Maybe it's the largesse of it-
a field trip outside, a day or two to dry, no rush.
My full clothesline speaks to my soul of satisfaction.
And I smile.
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