How often do you think about the passing of time?
When Hugh and I are strolling about town, me hoisting his increasingly heavy frame in a front facing carrier, we’re frequently greeted by those we walk past.
Americans like to talk about how hard we work.
Hugh is 7 and a half months old and my garden is ripe within the heyday of summer.
Instead, Justin often proudly remarks that it’s the most productive and healthy garden I’ve (we’ve) ever grown.
Daily life is frequently driven by our imaginings of present bliss and future success.
I have a son.