I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

from Mary Oliver's "The Summer Day"

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Elmo Saves the Day

It's hot here, as I imagine it is most everywhere, and this is how Will remedied the situation.





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There's not much that a cheapo Elmo sprinkler won't fix. Except maybe our brown grass and that one hanging basket that bit the dust over our weekend away.

Laura and I sweated it out on the deck under the umbrella for as long as we could but we had to call it a day after a half hour or so.

It appears that I've been neglecting to write about her and my excuse is that she doesn't really do much yet that's write aboutable (new phrase there). She is, however, becoming quite the chatterbox and has even laughed a little a few times. I'm pretty sure that she's the only person in this household who finds me very funny, excluding myself. More on her coming soon, though.

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