We have lived here, at this house, for six years; however, we only expected to be here a couple of years. (Therefore, we never really looked into the school zones, as we bought this house and three months later, brought our first-born son home from the hospital.)
Each fall, Mike mows the back hill, proclaiming "I hope this is my LAST TIME mowing this damned hill!" Each spring, he grudgingly mows it yet again. (He mows it as infrequently as possible.)
Last fall, he declared that he wasn't going to jinx himself yet again; this time, he made NO MENTION of the last time mowing the hill. And here we are again... days away from the official start to spring...
This morning, I looked out of the kitchen window - overlooking the roof of our bonus room and admiring the way that the frost sparkled in the bright, morning sunshine.
I, too, find myself wondering: is THIS the last time I will see frost out of this window?
We live in a constant state of wait-and-see... always wondering WHEN and WHERE we will go next...
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