Sunday, May 23, 2010


i mowed the lawn yesterday.
the same lawn .
i mowed as a kid.
i have always, always loved this task.
i tried to remember,
what it was i would have been thinking about
back then.
riding around this yard.
what movie my boyfriend and i were going to go see?
why does my sister wears my clothes?
i need to study for that test on monday.
the yard was much more open then.
there are many more obstacles to go around.
in the yard.
and in my mind.
kids, bills, work.
so much more to go through my mind.
as i go around this yard.
and yet.
the same happy, contented feeling i had back then.
is still with me today.
this is my happy place.
and the breath goes in and out.
and i can smile.
because at the end of the day.
the simple task of mowing the lawn makes me happy.
and no matter what obstacles are in my way.
right at this moment...
they don't matter.
welcome to coffee hour.
welcome to this Sunday morning.
just BE.
happy birthday
to my handsome husband...
make a wish...
love you.


lynda Howells said...

love this entry..happy birthday handsom husband of robin!
The images are beautifulxlynda

Sweet Repose said...

A belated birthday wish for your wonderful husband...he's a lucky man, as are you sweet friend!

I too love mowing the grass, no one but me can do it, because of the obstacles...all my little fledgling friends would be smashed that smell, must be why that soap is one of my faves!

My berries have totally taken over my veggie garden too, that's OK, I have 6 acres to expand too and I've already invaded 4 more feet with tomatoes and stevia and eggplant...mmmmmmmmm...

back to the trenches...(garden)


Leah said...

Its been great catching up with your posts and your archive posts as well (hope that gets set straight soon).
I was always the one to volunteer to mow, to stack the firewood, go blackberry picking. And yes it always sparks memories from childhood when I do it as an adult.
Its funny, how most things never change, yet our foolish perspectives are always chasing and restless convinced that what we are struggling with is so singular and desperate.
Thanks for sharing.