I write this at the end of an almost picture perfect summer day. The weather was ideal, the sky was an irridescent blue that you only get once in a while, and the word "humidity" wasn't in anyone's vocabulary.
It was a day just to putter. Run errands. Pick up a car. Get a haircut. One of those leisurely I-don't-have-to-be-anywhere-at-anytime-in-particular kind of days.
The pool was opened last night (after some patch and repair work), so we sat ourselves in the sun this afternoon and I watched my two grown and growing sons hang out in the water together while I retrieved items that escaped the pool's edge. I soaked up rays of sunshine that seemed to infuse my very self with so much natural light that it was invigorating. We marched fresh laundry from the clothesline into the house, felt the breeze from the open windows on our faces, and chased after our Golden as she escaped out the door many a time.
At one point mid-afternoon I stepped out the front door into the sunlight, drew a long deep breath, and just stood there in order to recount all the minutiae of the day that made it such a great one in sum total. These are days to bottle and keep, I thought to myself. And that being an impossibility, I went and did the next best thing I could. I blogged.