Here comes the sun

After two days of rain, the washed skies seemed bluer than blue today; the sun sang it's brightness and the wind blew over the earth, drying it off.
It was a beautiful day.
I am up to my ears in boxes and messes, packing, sorting through our tangible life and deciding what stays and what is expendable.
It is quite a chore, and today, I wanted to go outside to play.
The boys called up a friend to spend the day with, and we were off.
Isaac and Jo had coupons for free happy meals from a reading program they participate in, so we stopped at McD's to pick up lunch and went to the park.
We sat on benches under a canopy of trees and watched the geese and ducks meandering around, or sleeping in the sunlight, feathers fluffed up, beaks buried under wings.

The boys had a quick romp on the playground after lunch, and then we went to the tennis courts so they could practice. They have a tournament in April.

It was pretty windy, and I walked Daniel around in his stroller while Isaac and Colton played a bit of tennis. Josiah was an excellent ball boy.

After a ride out to check on the new house, we stopped at Tropical Sno, the first trip of the season.

Daniel had his first small taste of Tropical Sno ever! It think he liked it : ).

It was warmer by the time we got there, so we sat on the benches, watching the people come and go, all craving the sweet, cold ices that are a part of spring/summer life here.

We ordered a Wolverine, Pink Pixi, and Volcano. Guess which one was mom's.

When we got home, the boys played some hoops with their friend and I cleaned a bit and ordered pizza.
Grandpa stopped in for a few minutes to drop off some paper goods he picked up for us (bless him) and he chatted and played with the kids a while.

Mom brought tulips after work to brighten up what has become a cardboard jungle (bless her).

We had a smaller homegroup than usual tonight, but it was good. We talked about what God is doing in each of us, recapped Sunday's sermon, which was excellent, and our friend Nancy shared stories from her life. Amazing, how God has his hand on each of us. We all have such stories to tell.
Before we knew it, it was almost 10 p.m., and then the phone rang.
It was Joe!
I hadn't heard his voice in over a week! It was so good to hear him.
Tomorrow, he will be home, and we will tell him all the things that happened here, and we will listen to all the stories he has to tell.
We are quite excited to see him.
I look around now, and the boxes are all where I left them this afternoon, still waiting to be packed or stacked. There is a pile of laundry that would put Mt. Everest to shame. The boys room looks like a small tornado spontaneously whipped up in there.
I sigh.
If we stayed in this afternoon, it would have all been done.
But today was not a day for boxes, or laundry, or messes.
Today was for playgrounds and fresh air and Tropical Sno and laughter in little boy's eyes.
The boxes will be here tomorrow . . .

Remember when . . .

Saturdays were just the best days ever? When you were a kid, they stretched out before you with endless possibilities.
You could sleep in, though you seldom did because you didn't want to miss one moment of your day of freedom.
You could play for hours with no bells telling you it was time for reading or science, or worse, MATH!
It was a day when you were home with the grown-ups, interacting with them in ways that you seldom could on a weekday. Or, you went on a special outing -- a shopping trip, a visit, a ceremony.
When we grow up, the weekend can seem to be just another kind of work day -- house work, laundry, yard care all needing to be done. Special projects or chores or "honey-do" lists pop up and we find ourselves working just as hard, if not harder, on our one free day.
I was watching my boys play outside with one of their friends today. They were running and jumping and hiding, up to some backyard espionage, giving no thought to the dirty dishes and peaks of laundry and bills to be paid, or even what they would eat later.
They were laughing, those eyes-closed-face-tilted-to-the-sky laughs. Their voices rang out.
I miss those seemingly endless childhood Saturdays, but I get to remember them, get to feel them in my gut again as I watch my sons at play out my window.
Joe and I tried to get through a game of Yahtzee (did I get that right, Patty?) with them, but they were distracted and antsy, and I knew. Time to get out of the house.
Because they have been doing exceptionally well on their chore and responsibility charts, Mom and I took them to the arcade this afternoon (Isaac has been getting good spelling grades and pulling math up too).
We took a ride to show their friend our new house and let them run the yard once for practice, to see how it will feel.
We tried to go to the art supply store, but it was closed by the time we got there.
This evening, they had the opportunity to go to an International Food Fair at the auditorium with their friend's family. They were thrilled!
When they got home, there were lots of stories about what the shows were like, what they ate and how it tasted and who they saw there. "I'm so glad I went, mom. I had a really good time," Isaac sighed as he plopped down next to Daniel and I on the couch.
Josiah told his dad that his brother and he had "fried bee-anas" (bananas). Cute.
By the time baths and showers were had, and family devotions were read (Psalm 147, which is so excellent), they fell into their beds exhausted from a good, hard day of playing.
They were asleep within two minutes.
We spring ahead tonight, and I sit here, blogging.
From where I am, I can hear the steady breathing of all three of my sons, a symphony of the most precious kind to me.
Soon, I will join them, add my shallow breathing to theirs (and probably trumpet out a few snores too. I am quite tired).
A blanket of peace covers the house for the night.
This Saturday has ended.