The lilacs that line the North edge of our yard are just now in full bloom, and their fragrance is almost intoxicating. June is late for Lilacs, even in Spokane, but I think I can say with some level of assurance that our long cold winter has (finally) officially ended. Further portends of the onset of summer are the seedlings that have sprouted in our vegetable garden, the increased shedding of our indoor cats, my husband's obsession with his motorcycle, and the promise of another school year coming to an end. Each year, Liberty Elementary has a Fun Run where students and parents may run a two-mile course together, and then e
njoy the reward of popsicles on the playground. For the fifth year in a row I had the joy of running with one of my boys. It was a most beautiful 70 degree day, and seeing as Liberty is nestled in the farmlands of Spangle, the race route took us past green wheat fields, frolicking horses, and a handful of mournful looking cows. I was the only parent of a fifth grader to run with a student, or in Chandler's words, "You were the only mom brave enough to run!" I love to be called "brave." What I love even more is an eleven year old son who is gracious enough to run with his mom.
The lilacs that line the North edge of our yard are just now in full bloom, and their fragrance is almost intoxicating. June is late for Lilacs, even in Spokane, but I think I can say with some level of assurance that our long cold winter has (finally) officially ended. Further portends of the onset of summer are the seedlings that have sprouted in our vegetable garden, the increased shedding of our indoor cats, my husband's obsession with his motorcycle, and the promise of another school year coming to an end. Each year, Liberty Elementary has a Fun Run where students and parents may run a two-mile course together, and then e
njoy the reward of popsicles on the playground. For the fifth year in a row I had the joy of running with one of my boys. It was a most beautiful 70 degree day, and seeing as Liberty is nestled in the farmlands of Spangle, the race route took us past green wheat fields, frolicking horses, and a handful of mournful looking cows. I was the only parent of a fifth grader to run with a student, or in Chandler's words, "You were the only mom brave enough to run!" I love to be called "brave." What I love even more is an eleven year old son who is gracious enough to run with his mom.
No comments:
Post a Comment