Life is so rich.

I’m just doing laundry. Hanging out with youngest who ran 102 plus temp all night, but is resting comfortably now on the couch.

It’s a stinker of a day, 98 degrees and rising but there are clouds floating in the sky, a cherry-red house finch on the feeder, the dry hot breeze. It’s a be-mom day and, since there haven’t been many of those to enjoy of late with the two sturdy lads who are new-minted men, I am content.

Nothing like being a mom to keep you in the moment, pouring the juice, folding the sheets, hands the lovely scent of powdered cleanser. Someone quietly thankful for your presence.

Parenthood, like life, is rich; its transience makes it even richer.