Cinco de Mayo. A party day. A celebration. A day to go out and whoop it up, right?
Or, just another beautiful day in a small town. Good Girl had been walked & fed. Dinner had been prepared & eaten with the family. Dishes were done. The cutie pie was bathed and in bed. Laundry was in the dryer. Facebook had been checked. So I sat outside, sipped some red wine, and watched the sun go down. Had the daddy been there (he was golfing) it would have been perfect.
And as I sat outside, wine glass in one hand and baby monitor in the other, I gazed out at our backyard and thought of what I probably had been doing ten or twelve years ago on May 5th. Of course I can't remember what I did (either it was pretty non-eventful or I had indulged in some celebratory margaritas--or both) but I guarantee you that it didn't involve sipping wine and enjoying the view of a bare cornfield.
If you would have told my 20-something self that someday I'd be totally content sitting on my deck looking at a field I would have laughed at you. But I have to admit, that there are more days than not, that I would take my view over one from a city penthouse or a Colorado mountaintop. (And then there are other days when I'd just give anything to live next to a Target)