We were all outside in the yard today - Cass whizzing around on his Jeep, B doing something to his chain saw (something with the carburetor?) and Miss R running everywhere, poking at flowers and honeybees and hunting for the season's last gorgeous wild blueberries, which grow thick upon our slope. (Or did. The birds are fat 'round here.)
B fussed and fiddled. Y'know, I was never interested in the woods. Or machines, really, although I am proud of what car maintenance and tools I know*. And then I went and fell in love with a man who trained as a forester, for Pete's sakes.
Someone up there is laughing.
Anyhoo! The day was lovely. A few of the leaves are beginning to turn, and there's a feisty squirrel that charges across the road, whisks up the tree, steals an apple, and runs back home to watch for, and a few butterflies to exclaim over and follow across the field. Tuckered out, Rosey had her thumb in her mouth and her head on my shoulder. 'Sing Sunshine, Mama.'
And I did. I tucked my head under her hair and sniffed by her ear - that good scent that is hers alone, and thought: I would always know you.
*The first week we were married, B changed the spark plugs on the car. He was hunting through boxes and muttering to himself 'where is that stupid thing' when I shocked and amazed him (and I think, turned him on a little) by asking if he wanted to borrow my gapper, which I then handed over.