This morning is cool and delicious.
Despite the potential for discord, I love taking Silas to soccer before the world is awake. We chatter and bicker.
“Mama, your garden is grass!”
Which prompted me to set journaling aside. When you’re your own boss, any command is welcome. Especially one accompanied by, “Your garden...” Even if it is a sideways command. A little round-a-abouting.
I have a garden? Well then, that garden I shall tend!
Previously, I thought I’d cultivated a bed of weeds.
I seem to trust accumulation over organization, which results in so many overgrown places. It always brings me back to journaling, and these piles of books…
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