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What a difference...

When I think of last summer, truth is a lot of it is a blur. That's what happens when your waking moments are filled with trying to keep the ship afloat and your sleeping moments, well, there aren't any. I certainly have some incredible memories of friends and trips and the kids but the overall summer is...gone. I think there was a lot of inside time and a lot of tv. There are worse things.

This summer? It's not yet July and I already have a flip flop tan. There are impressive patches of our yard that are largely unrecognizable from when we moved in. All the landscaping that has been in my head for years is slowly creeping into our yard. I love to putter and weed and plant and tend and nurture and get my hands dirty and then enjoy a well-earned beer at day's end. It is my joy. It is my peace. It is my meditation and when Bogen looked at me the other day and said, "Momma, gardening is fun.", my heart skipped a beat. And, yeah, I end up being outside in flip flops most days when I garden. I know. Also, please don't tell my dad.

But isn't that incredible? The difference a year makes? Last year trying to keep it all together by just remaining upright. This year having the energy, and desire, to tend to my garden and my home. Not just the folks living within it. I survived. We survived. Hot damn I am proud. My kids have freckles and dirty feet. I have poison ivy, a tremendous sense of pride in my home, freckles and a flip flop tan. This is the life I wanted. Not things but time and moments and hard work. This is the life we are getting. What a difference a year makes. Exhale.

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