I can't resist lazing in the sun in my slippers, soaking it all up.
Beside me, I hear Donovan saying "nice doggy, nice doggy. Do you want to pet my doggy, Mom?"
It almost makes me feel bad about not being an animal person. But I guess there's no harm in pretending your brother is your doggy, and no harm in cuddling up to him instead of a furry pet.
The sun warmed me long enough that I didn't care when the boys took over the watering - which inevitably turned into clothes-soaking, even if I protested that it wasn't hot enough for that.
The sun is fierce up here.
If only I could draw the strength from it that a solar panel does and store it up - so that when the boys are crying and Elaina is clinging and supper needs to be made and the homework needs to be completed and the legos are underfoot - I could pull energy from that source to keep me going, thriving, and help me to bloom rather than wilt.
On second thought, my skin does still feel warm. I think I'll go put a load to spin and think about supper.