not bad
Sometimes I wish we lived somewhere more farmy. Not so I could grow more vegetables—well, not only so I could grow more vegetables—but so the boys could enjoy long days of wandering outside, inventing games, and playing in dirt. (In my imagination more space and more dirt would reduce fighting.) Still and all, we don't do so bad: this afternoon they were taking breaks from helping me plant beans to try and find ripe strawberries, and chasing the chickens away from both activities. And then Harvey pushed Zion around the yard on the toy tractor for several minutes! So it could be worse, and this way we can still walk to Whole Foods.