a good kind of tired.

There must be some kind of divide you cross as an adult. A moment when you begin to care more about very domestic responsibilities and let other "younger" aspects of life go. This weekend was one of those crossing moments for me.

Banana and I helped clean the pool we'll be joining this summer, and then we hunkered down for a several hours—between Saturday and Sunday—of yardwork. The net result of these choices is that I am tired to my bones in a way I haven't been since last summer. Nonetheless, the basil, tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, and parsley have all been planted. The dianthus and pansies have been planted. The brick walks in back have been cleared of weeds and overgrowth, branches have been trimmed, and the mulch has been spread. I am now shopping for new furniture to put in our backyard and planning to get the lettuce in within the next few days.

The end result is a satisfying kind of exhaustion, a sense that we have made our small corner of the world a better, more organized place. Why is this news? It's not, really. It's just one more small part of my effort to take better control of and responsibility for my life and Banana's world.