the sun was out. we took shelter in the shade under a tree. him and i sipping white wine on the hammock, swaying back and forth. she settled on the picnic blanket with her markers and paper, sipping on lemonade.
she sang some songs, we talked. there were trips inside for more drinks, library books, and the Times. we snuggled, all three of us, in the hammock reading to each other.
we hung the clothes to dry and painted our new shed. we watched a lot of old colorful cars go by. the windows were up and the doors open wide. the gentle breeze blew in one window and out the other. the house smelled of freshly cut grass and fragrant flowers.
there were giggles and many pushes on the swing in the apple tree. he took pictures while i obliged her with some underdogs.
then we retreated back to the hammock, all quite content with our afternoon of doing "nothing."
sometimes home is the best place to be, and i think that if we had the choice, it's the only place we'd be.