Ballet performance last weekend, high school graduation for my daughter tomorrow -- my life has been sandwiched between BIG EVENTS lately.
My husband mowed the lawn this week, finally finding a moment when it wasn't raining. The grass had turned to wildflowers -- daises, Indian paintbrush mostly -- and I hinted that he could mow around the thickest patches and leave some color out there. To my surprise, when he finished, it looked more like he'd mowed paths between flower beds. It works for me, but was a bit out of character for him. When commented, he said sheepishly that there were a lot of butterflies feeding on the flowers, and it didn't seem right to cut them down.
Is that not sweet?