The family story is told that long ago, my grandmother would send her five boys across the street to play at the neighbors (who also had about five boys.) The boys would play in front of the house and tear up the lawn, as 1o active boys most likely would do. Meanwhile, the front lawn at my grandmother's house remained in good condition. Mrs. S. used to say to Mrs. F. (so the story goes): "I'm so glad the boys play in my yard, because I love looking over at your beautiful, green lawn."
I think about that story sometimes when I mow, as I did today, especially when the springtime grass is lush and green. Of course there are no kids left in this house to play on it anymore. But I get my delight in looking across the street at the little folks playing there.
Kayla came over this afternoon wearing a different flip flop on each foot. I could only think that she liked them both, so why not?
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