Winter days here seem beautiful days. I don’t know what makes the days so unbearably sweet. Today especially was glorious.
I hacked at the long thick grass. It looked so easy but really wasn’t and besides I don’t know how to handle a sickle. I own a sickle and Johnny owns a scythe, like real country-folk.
Of course after an hour’s work, Gareth and I lay on the newly turned earth.
It was happiness.
- This journal entry is part of the My Mother’s Voice – Journal Series