The Good Life

It was one of those days; a day when the sunshine is warm but not hot, all the animals cooperate, chores get done in record time, and the clock slows down in a good way.  Some days drag by, but yesterday seemed an extension of perfection.  Milking went well and the girls weren't cranky.  Nobody took cuts in line and there was no head butting.  Finished early, Bess and I went out on the deck to read and wait for NASCAR to start.  Back in the house, rain in Texas delayed the race.  I continued to read.  It continued to rain.  I napped.  It rained.  Enough already!  Early afternoon and too pretty outside to stay indoors.  Well, the weed-eater was working and the weeds were growing; that seemed a good project.  The little tractor was in the way.  Once it was fired up, I could think of yards that needed mowing so tootled off to do that.  Going in circles in the side yard, I kept thinking that mowing is my favorite thing to do, but then, no, hanging laundry is my favorite thing.  No, reading on the deck is the best.  As I continued to add to my list of favorites, I finished mowing the side yard, the back yard, and the south slope, dodging patches of Baby Blue-eyes that had sprung into bloom.  Parking the mower, I decided to leave weed-eating for another day.  Bessie stays on the porch, well away from danger, whenever I mow and was waiting for me.  We decided it was time to pour a sundowner and sit on the deck again, smell the perfume of mown greens and survey a job well done.  (Put that on the list of favorites.)  Dang, it's a good life!