Financial anxieties aside, working part-time has been life-changing for me. Granted, part of the dramatic change was leaving my awful full-time job. But even more than that, the extra time with my boy has been transformative. I am a happier, lighter, sunnier version of myself. The anxiety and fear that has been my near-constant companion for at least a decade has dissipated, burned away like the hot sun burns through the fog on a humid morning.
And I am grateful. Profoundly grateful. To the point of tears most days. We spend our days off doing not much of anything–watching Sesame Street, eating mangoes, chasing the kitties, and reading lots of books. On good weather days, we go on at least one walk, usually early in the morning. And when I say early, I mean early–this kid’s internal alarm clock starts ringing at 5am.
Today, I grabbed my camera to snap a photo of my peony bushes, and then decided to take a few pictures of our walk. We live kind of out in the middle of nowhere, which is mostly fantastic.
First, the peonies that prompted the grabbing of the camera:
Did you know that peonies need ants? As Mr. Phish was in the process of destroying anthills last summer, my mom admonished him that if he killed all of the ants, we would have no peonies. Life is strange sometimes, friends.
Of course, my favorite part of any walk (or any activity, really) is getting to hang with this guy.
He’s kind of into kitty lately, so she’s been coming on all walks with us. His tiny blurry hand is so true to life–his little fingers never stop moving on our walks, as he points out birds and squirrels and shadows. That little index finger is constantly outstretched, drawing my attention to something.
There are a lot of kids in our little neighborhood, and even though we live out in the country, the school bus still makes the trip out. I never rode a bus to school as a kid, and I don’t know if Bubba will or not.
This is just around the corner from our house. We call it “the tunnel.” Inexplicably, the deer will walk past all of these big, thriving hostas just to come to my house, maneuver around our fence, and eat our hostas. Because obviously wild hostas are not half as delicious as fenced-in hostas. Maddening!
Sometimes, Bubba falls asleep near the end of the walk, and I get a glorious 10 or 15 minutes to myself when we get home. Alas, today was not one of those days, as evidenced by the chubby kicking feet. Still, even without a nap, I can’t think of a better way to start the day.