"September Grass is the Sweetest Kind"

I'm excited for October and the full descent of fall, but this September has been bountiful in so many subtle ways at our house, and today was a lovely finisher.  I only have a morning preschool class on Fridays, so this afternoon I listened to music and cleaned the house for an hour before the kids got home from school.  The rule is Secret Garden in the spring, Jane Eyre in the fall.

In the light of the virgin morning
In the shade of the chestnut tree
If I leave this unhappy bliss
Where will my Eden be?
For I'll miss this enchanted garden
Watching leaves as they turn to brown 

That hour cleared my head enough that I could take Spencer's "purple card" status in stride, and smile  over the steady in-and-out of children and neighbors that invited another hundred flies into the house.    For dinner, we took our leftover lasagna to the patio and then threw out a blanket on the grass to read in the last-day-of-September sunshine.

Well, the sun's not so hot in the sky today
and you know I can see summertime slipping on away.
A few more geese are gone, a few more leaves turning red,
but the grass is as soft as a feather in a featherbed.
So I'll be king and you'll be queen, our kingdom's gonna be this little patch of green.

James Taylor was about all Wes and I listened to our first six months of our marriage.  The words play frequently in my mind but I still can't listen to the music.

Last night we saw some dear, wonderful friends whose little five year old daughter has been diagnosed with brain cancer.  It was such a bitter sweet reunion and our conversation in the car on the way home was tender, including tears on Lucy's cheeks and so many questions from Spencer - some questions about our friends, lots of questions about our dad.   I forget sometimes how much they don't remember.

But I remember.  And all the memories were in my heart tonight, as I stretched out on the September grass, half listening to Spencer read On the Banks of Plum Creek.  I'm glad he loves those Little House books.  I'm glad he's reading about Laura and Mary and Ma and Carrie.  And about their good dad.  After a few pages, when he wanted me to take over reading, I said with my eyes closed, "Oh, keep going!  It makes me feel like I'm a little girl and you're my Pa."  He started again with a forced deep voice that gave way to giggles after just a few sentences.

When we came in, there was the necessary reckoning for his four card moves.  He chipped away at a long list of unpleasant jobs while Lucy sat at the computer researching ideas for the science fair.  At about ten o'clock, I sent them to bed with a kiss (and a prayer that she will please forget about the "build your own hover board" project that was the reigning favorite find).  

The light of the temple was bright outside my bedroom window as I pushed Spencer off my half of the bed.  The task added another smile to today's tally and I laid down with a heart full of love, full of anticipation, full of so many feelings - the sweetest kind.