Or aim for his back so he can’t see what you’re up to if you flub the attempt.
The mornings are warm and sunny, and I’m taking my beverage in the partial shade of our back deck. The kids are fawning over their pea pod plants, anxiously watching them sprout and grow over the last few days. It is slow going, and full of childlike anguish. Pleads for the plants to grow faster, and the whole process to speed up abound. Soon they will tire of the hardening and will begin to squabble loud enough to disturb the neighbours and I’ll have to send them inside. Hidden amongst the chatter of our children playing is the insistent hammering of a giant wood pecker somewhere further down the street behind us. The murmur of passing cars drifts softly through the trees as we are set back a fair ways from the road. A warm and richly scented breeze rustles the leaves of our Lilac bushes, bringing the smell of freshly brewed coffee to my nose. It is a Saturday in May. Things, such as they are, are good.
