Ben insisted this be the title of today’s post. And so it is.
We had originally planned to go to the theatre this afternoon to see Streetcar Named Desire, but when we walked out of church we knew we couldn’t stand to miss such a beautiful day sitting in a dark room. It was the most glorious sort of springtime afternoon, so we rushed home to change into walking clothes and then grabbed lunch to go so we could eat on our front porch.
The sun shone in just such a way that sitting in the adirondack chairs our legs were in the sun and our faces were shaded by the eave of the roof.
After lunch (salad for me, a wrap for Ben), we listened to Django Reinhardt and closed our eyes for a little bit while the sun warmed our bones. The roofing crew working on the old Green house across the street were on their lunch break too and they elected to lie in the grass and get a quick nap. Ben sipped sweet tea and realized the only thing that could make it better would be if he were drinking it from a jar. With a handle. Like his Granny always had.
I’m going to go buy some of those jars first thing tomorrow.