Windowed Day

I've always looked out the window a lot.  As a kid, watching my mom work in her garden.  My dad chop wood.  My brother launch the sledding hill.  Now, my husband mowing the lawn, the cat violating some freshly turned earth, my daughters cartwheeling across the grass, my garden in the rain. 

Today was a window day.

Rain.  Giving covered porches a purpose since the beginning of dwellings.

 

Rain.  Keeping me out of the mix.  Turning my eye to a more distant view of the garden.

Rain kissed daphnes brought in (note G looking out the window in the background).

Rain.  An excuse to stay in and dig through a box of old photos searching for gems.

Genevieve:  I think it's really weird that you and dad got married in a car.

Me:  Nope.  This is the getaway car.

Genevieve:  Was there a bear?