Nurse the baby, feed the toddler (Cheerios), pack bags, shower, dress, listen to Veggitales, drive to Calvary (look, it’s a backhoe! and an excavator!), go to work, leave work at 5:55 (because Calvary Place closes at 6), feed the children, read books, bathe children, read more books, nurse the baby, fall asleep.
I have a photograph of you from this year, and I can recall taking it, at a birthday picnic on an island in the middle of the river, on a mild summer day.
But, otherwise, I can hardly remember you at all.
jenny's lark 
Thank you. This is what I mean. There’s so little from those years. Although I’m afraid I don’t know what I’ll carry from these years either.
Perfection.
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[…] at once. And sitting there, all in one sitting, I wrote a series of 21 posts (20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, Belonging) about our utterly ordinary marriage, a […]
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