When we bought this house I didn't really understand why our realtor kept talking about the yard. J and I are not yard people. We hate doing yard work. We don't garden. We had two little dogs. A yard was wasted on us really. We just wanted somewhere the dogs could pee.
Last summer we had a patio built out in the back. Had the yard leveled. And I began to understand a little more why he was so enthusiastic about it. In some parts of the country this yard would be tiny but around here it is large. We have a view of the mountain. You can see the trainyard (this is not a feature for adults but for the preschool set it is like growing goldfish crackers on a bush out there they are very excited). The house and the trees are laid out in such a way that it is all shade in the heat of the day.
This year I get the yard.
When Mo wakes up from her nap we go outside. We take the puppy (oh did I tell you about the puppy) and go lay in the grass. We sit in chairs and have a drink. We blow bubbles. She rides her tricycle. She slides on her slide. The neighbor girl, who is the nicest child I have ever met, comes over and throws the dog a ball over and over. We pick flowers and dig in the dirt and hit baseballs and everything in my head is quiet.
My yard is covered in toys. We have eight hundred old softballs that the dog chases and rips apart. We have a toddler bat and ball and tee. We have a climber with two slides. We have a bubble bucket. We throw balls and slide and count bubbles. The world is still spinning but we're eating apple slices and chasing the dog and if I could freeze time I would. I would hit pause.
I get the yard. I love the yard. Especially since I don't do any yard work.