Thank you...

Today, my dear, you gave me the perfect day to finish this week. Elijah got to spend the night with a couple of friends who re-inforced his "acceptance" quotient amongst his peers, and you took me so deep into spring! Even though Indy isn't a particularly "lively" city, I still sometimes feel the churning frenzy of life in this piled-up setting. Those are the times you know to get me out to places like you took me today. My mental scrapbook that gives me peace has such wonderfully extremist sense imagery:
*the convertible's top is down, and the sun is hot on my face while the wind is bitingly cool
*the spicy smell of mesquite drifting from someone's backyard grill mingling with the sweetness of my first whiff of lilac this season.
*the quirky frivilous quaintness of the landscaping and decorations in yards and windows of the little towns we passed through compared to their very un-frilly utilitarian names: Dottie's Diner, Randy's Antiques.
*the soft petticoat of tiny white flowers peeking out under a rough skirt of bark gracing the trees in the wood where we walked.
*the mystery of the sun's transformation as it changed from being the sun in the sky to the sun in the water, and how the little waves on the lake looked as if they were lit with an interior light, making them hypnotically transparent; and how we sat in the grass, wishing we had so much time to dedicate to doing absolutely nothing but sit there and stare across the water.
*most of all the ageless familiarity of you beside me, alongside the ever-new thrill of looking over and seeing the golden-red of your summer color coming fresh upon you yet again after another long winter. (Remembering the flowers you gave me, and how you thoughtfully considered just the perfect color combination to choose...you know me well enough to know it would matter.)
Tomorrow can be for the kids. Today was for me. It was time well spent.