My life, My loves

This is my life, my summertime in Connecticut. The days are long, the sun sets late. The evening sun glowing through the trees in the back yard, through the window in the breezeway in the kitchen. When my husband comes home on weekday evenings he takes my son outside to play, and I busily prepare dinner for us. We keep the door open that connects to the breezeway, and the golden hour light pours in.

When dinner’s ready I’ll head out to the backyard where my son is typically busy digging with his construction trucks, his fingernails caked with dirt. He will look up at me with his sweet little rosy cheeks, his forehead glistening with sweat, refusing to come inside, asking for a few more minutes. I will usually make him a promise that if he eats his dinner, he can come back out and play again until the sun goes down, and he reluctantly comes inside.

And once finished, he will ask to go back outside again, playing until that evening sun sets.

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