The rain! We cheered when it fell. Our grass is dead. We haven't mowed in more than a month. With the rain we got the bonus of a thunder and lightning show, and some hail that made the pool look like it was going to boil over. A good display of nature makes an otherwise humid and stodgy Saturday afternoon lively and exciting.
Our girls are back!
I couldn't be happier. They add a dimension of liveliness and fun that we've missed. One of my favorite weekend moments was sitting on the floor of the music room and just listening while Sweet Mesquite practiced the piano. She's got talent. Having them both back at the dinner table again is a welcome return to the raucous meals we know best. This afternoon the conversation dwindled (amidst much giggling) to the topic of "the fly" and "the barn door." That's enough of that.
We spent Sunday church-hopping to North Brookfield. Let me tell you: this place is literally in the middle of NO.WHERE. It took us slightly over an hour of driving on nothing but winding back roads through charming little towns. I was enchanted with the quaint little post office in the town of Jefferson, and wanted to stop and buy a quart of raspberries at a roadside stand we passed on the way.
I was also smitten by our driver, who couldn't take his eyes off me most of the day, and let me know. (whoosh!)
After a little afternoon nap (bliss) Dub and I had a date to a nearby rehab facility, where we visited a dear friend and her husband. She is fighting a battle with cancer. He dotes on her with humility and love. Mr. Dub shared with our friends that their marriage is a model for which we strive to emulate... we have never seen a hint of anything but true affection between them, and it's sweet. We brought some stories and the sacrament, but in the end, they were the ones who administered to us.