Burlington was a balmy 50-something today. I was feeling fab all (sunny) day--until I found myself regretting that I hadn't gone for a run. On this perfect, 50-something March day. I felt guilty. Why hadn't I at least logged a short jog? I thought about it.
|J & J starting some seeds.|
Well... I had run "really, really, really, really fast - like a Cheetah" around the yard, again and again, dragging the Radio Flyer in wide loops, stopping periodically to take invisible tickets.
... And I'd walked to the dog park with all four of my boys (humans + Digs!), stopping to spot the singing cardinal and appreciating all the other tunes whose artists I couldn't identify, pointing out exactly where Kai, Ri and I had seen the adolescent-boy moose galloping down the bike path when Kai was three months old. "Yeah, moose," he'd nodded in agreement, as if he totally remembered.
... I whipped up a batch of banana wheat-germ muffins with Jules.
... I danced to Fat Boy Slim with Kai.
... I tossed baseballs to JuJu (and taught him the valuable lesson that no matter how badly your pitcher sucks it is not polite to yell "too high" and "too low" in a disparaging tone).
... I made a yummy new recipe (samosa-inspired twice-baked potatoes from Veganomicon) ... for family dinner with Chris and Ri. I had a Red Stripe while sauteeing and stuffing. It tasted of spring.
It was awesome day.