Long warming days, wet days, muddy days, baking days and always snacking days. Days where its dry and some how his nose bleeds (again) kind of days, where they played king of the mountain atop a pile of composted manure days. Boots knee deep in the stream, looking for a blooming marsh marigold, wrestling a brother or two days. Where they end up with faces like these, kind of days.
So long as hands are clean (ish) upon meal times, we can push it until bath time even caked in the earth. I tell the boys they are doing their job right if they are filthy. I tell them the same goes with me.
This time of year I crave an afternoon of kneeling in the dirt, with my head tilted down to the ground, eyes squinting, searching for a seedling newly germinated. I crave the green. I crave the sun. And thankfully, I have been getting full doses daily.