Steady Days

Sometimes the best days are spent at your parents' house, watching your children swim with your husband and a couple of neighborhood kids. And sometimes you just sit out there, spitting out cherry seeds thinking that every. single. little. thing. is so damn beautiful, thinking that your children are having a fine childhood, despite an incredibly flawed mother who forgets to pay attention sometimes. Add in a raft gifted by another neighbor who didn't happen to know that you had stopped at two different stores in search of a raft that very morning, a few crab nets, and galvanized bucket, and you have just about everything you could ever ask for in a summer Sunday.

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