Friday. The end of the work week. A chance to get caught up. Or a chance to review what got done and reset for next week what didn’t. 

Friday afternoon. The start of the weekend; a shift in routine for two days. A lull…a moment in time to be deliberate…to just breathe. Experience. Be.  

Got home from work, had dinner, then headed out to the field, to the strategically located dirt pile (yeah, it’s a thing) to fill a pot to plant the snap peas. 

Filled the pot with dirt, then went off to admire daffies….

…and tulips…

…and the rock garden….  
    

…picked up a few sticks on the way back to the ATV, and evaluated the situation…

…for which the only logical solution is a quick trip to the creek, that no one protested. 

Obviously. 

My girl dog is a big fan of big sticks. 

“I have my stick.”

“And I can let it go…”

“…and bring it back again…”

…and again and again. 

This look. It’s the on I get when I tell them it’s time to go.  
    
 

Srsly. I have to impersonate a blackjack dealer: show them my hands are completely empty … “No more sticks!” … before they reluctantly come out. 

  
And then insist. “E’rybody’s go home now.”

But SCHWIMMING!! 

Have you tried reasoning with a Hairy Beast lately? Especially one with *that face* …

In the end, I prevailed. Bribed them, if I’m honest, with another run. To be rewarded with a lovely late afternoon perspective. 

 
Well done, Friday. Well done.