Blustery winds today are making the clouds look as if they are on a direct path toward our house rather than floating miles above the earth. A milk jug took a jog down the street earlier followed later by its recycling bin that must have been hollering, "Wait for me!" Here in the hills you can see the weather approaching and changing in a different way than you might in a dissimilar topography. It appears closer to the observer, like you could reach up and be swept away with it.
I love this place. Have I mentioned it before? What a blessed woman I am. I hope that this is the only childhood home my little ones will know. Twenty years from now, I'd like to hear them asking me on the phone, "How is the neighborhood? Are Mr. and Mrs. Clay doing well? What about the Haases?"
Every now and then I get a little restless and find myself daydreaming about living in a condo downtown, riding the bus to the store, walking to a local restaurant for lunch.
But most of the time, I love my peaceful suburb. There are so many days like this. Days full of laundry and cleaning, homework and playtime, everyone is healthy and happy. So many days like this that I take for granted. They go unnoticed.
But not today. Today is.