This is a brief description of my day today. Laptop, laptop, book, book, book. Laptop, laptop, book, book, book. Oh, fine, sue me. So I went to the gym. But guess what I was looking at while I sat on the exercise bike? Book, book, book. And now I'm blogging. Laptop, laptop. Guess what's next? Book, book, book. So here I am. But this is where I wish I were:
Today I wish I were back at my parents home. If I were back home, I could be doing so many fun things. I could be playing with the dogs. My mother has collected six of them over the years, and I've been justly accused of telling each and every one of them that they are my favorite, but don't tell the others, ok? I could be checking out my dad's beehives. He just got a new beekeeper suit that ought to fit me, and we could check on this year's honey crop. I could be going for a walk in the woods with the dogs, looking to see if I can spot any cool birds, or find the beavers under their dam in the Little River. I could be teaching my little brother Bug how to skip stones in the pond. I could be in the cool and quiet hayloft in our barn, looking out the door over the pasture at our neighbors' horses. I could be chopping firewood. I could be turning the compost pile, or planting tomatoes and zucchini and sweet peas in the garden. And as evening fell I could be sitting on the front porch with my dad, listening to my mom play her guitar inside after she put Bug to sleep. And we would count the deer as they gathered in the pasture.
I wish I were back in North Carolina, very far away from the laptop, laptop, book, book, book.