The Bucolic Life.

Most of my life sounds bucolic when I put it down on paper. I spent last weekend helping my husband work on cabinets for the house he is building us, carrying branches up to the grind pile with my baby and my dog, and collecting pine cones for our out-door fire pit.

A few months ago, a friendly neighborhood tortoise wandered up our hill, thoroughly surprising all of us. I hope he will migrate across our property on a yearly basis. 

During the week-days, I stay at my parent's house with the baby. My parents have high-speed internet and cable which is wonderful, and they have a house-cleaner and a gardener who come regularly, so I don't even have very many chores to do except for taking out the trash, keeping my areas picked up, and making dinner for everyone.

Okay, it doesn't just sound bucolic- it IS bucolic. Too bad I don't have a sheep to round out the picture. The cat will have to do.

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