I've been told that I don't need to try and blog every day by a few people now. They are probably right. The thing is, if I don't make it a goal to write every day, I'll probably let this slip and it will become like the countless journals and diaries out there that have entries from January 1 to the second or twentieth before becoming a vast desert of empty pages. So I'll continue to try, at least.
I'm 'in charge' of the kids this morning so that my lovely wife can get some sleep in our bed. Our little girl is sleeping in her crib, our boy is eating a waffle and watching Clifford the Big Red Dog.
The sun has just come up and is shining through the trees into our front window. The world is still quiet. In no time, I'm sure one or more of my retired neigbors will have their riding lawnmowers going in their quest to mow once every couple of days. Neighborhood kids will be laughing and enjoying the summer, and our house will become a flurry of young family activity.
But for now... Clifford quietly, birds chatting softly. Pretty nice.