The Magic Outside

Saturday morning (okay, afternoon) I woke up feeling a bit out of sorts. As we ate Eggos in bed and tried to plan our day, I wasn't feeling it. Clarification: I was definitely feeling the Eggos, not so much the planning part. I just had no desire to get out of bed quite frankly. Do you ever have those lethargic moments? Or days, even? When they roll around from time to time, I find it difficult to get motivated and do the things I normally love to do.

Zach desperately wanted to do yard work; he loves it. He asked me to come help and though I was hesitant (very hesitant), I obliged. I walked outside and unpleasantly offered my assistance. He put me to work pulling weeds (the most HATED chore of my childhood) and I grumpily agreed to give it a go for a few minutes.

Minutes turned into hours, my friends. I pulled like a champ. Dirty, cut-up fingers ripped roots from the soil like nobody's business. I thought. I daydreamed. I appreciated life and the glory of nature, the fact that we actually have a backyard to enjoy now. I soaked up not only the sun, but also the quiet company of my sweet husband and the beauty of God's creation. It was therapeudic. No better word.

Scenes from our afternoon:

my cutie, hard at work