I wish I could say I did something amazing. Jeremy had to work, the kids were scattered to the four winds (as teenagers often are) and I was home. With open windows. I cleaned carpets & washed clothes & did some housecleaning. I wandered out in the yard and took pictures of the first signs of spring & smelt the spring air.
The apple tree looks bare until you get close.
Is it crazy that after ten years I still look at the view from my backyard and just marvel that I live here? It blows this suburban city girls mind.
Our dog yard looks like a meadow. It will need mowing soon.
Truth be told, I loved every precious, boring minute of this weekend. I needed the sunshine and the quiet.
Sometimes the nothing weekends are the best.
I was fortunate enough to see John Denver in concert when I was younger, more times than I can count. Once we came fresh from the beach, badly sunburned, my sister and I-- and we sang along with all the songs and shivered as the sun went down. I think of John Denver as our sibling soundtrack. That and Bob Dylan. Bangled Bup Bin Blue. Never mind, you had to be there.