Yesterday Holly and I went back to good ole Tiger mountain to hike a new portion of the Lingering/Dwight's Way etc trail except we didn't. My feet were so sore from the previous day and Holly was walking very slowly and grumbling about her laundry so we decided to head back. We stopped for snacks and to be in the glory. The sun on the green leaves and ferns and the winding trail, not too steep this time, we kept stopping to breathe it all in. We both agreed that the forest is medicine and healing and we'll not stop hiking until we no longer can. It's sunny today too and I'm tempted but I better give my feet and legs a rest.
AND when I came home yesterday, Simon, Deb's son, was in the yard, digging post holes. I don't have a son and my daughters live in California. BUT. Deb asks him to come over and lift something heavy and he does. Or dig post holes. Without complaining. Cheerful even. He had his shirt off and the chickens were watching him as he fitted three 4 X 4's into the three foot deep holes he'd dug. (I tried to dig holes last week, very pathetic) Then he took us to a restaurant called Poppy for Mother's Day where we had the most exquisite dinner: lovage and nettle soup, fried fiddleheads and spiced asparagus with lemon and sage-all herbs grown in their garden out back and they gave us a sage plant to take home. I <3 Simon.
Both my daughters called too and I love them and want to see them soon. July is too far away. But I invited Simon to come this year to the camping extravaganza and he said he would.
Sweet boy.
4 comments:
I think I love Simon too. Is that okay?
Yes, it's more than OK. He's lovable and he lets me hug him, for real.
You might have been able to dig the holes had you taken your shirt off, she says with a smile.
Whose life would not be better for a Simon? I am so glad that one has appeared to join your merry band. xo
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