Sage spent the day with his friend Grace on a few magical acres outside of town. They spent hours gathering ferns and watercress, lugging metal pails of water and mud and creating magic. Understandably Sage needed a jar to fill with spring water to bring home to drink. It has way better mojo than our (chlorinated-then-filtered-then-run-through-a-tap-with-a-sticker-reading-“magic water”-stuck-to-the- spout) city water. He sipped it all night as asked to bring it to bed.

We are blessed.

With water so clean we can drink it right out of the earth. With flowers and rain and love and laughter. With friends who know that when Pete’s out of town an all-day play date (or two) is a monumental help.

Pete is in the Boundary Waters, hoping to load his canoe with morels and trout and his soul with loon calls, starry skies, and wilderness quiet. Lucky dog. But today I filled my soul with irises, peace and rain. 

You won’t hear any complaints here.