Yesterday was my thirty-sixth birthday, which was the perfect time to daydream about a quiet evening spent fancy-free in a city garden. The soundtrack would be all spinning sprinklers and clinking flatware and laughter ringing over chainlink fences. There’d be sleeping kids just inside a screen door, and a sweating glass of chilled wine, and the deep peace of mind that comes with finishing a day of work and kissing babies goodnight and settling into a few precious hours of quiet before needing to start over again. Plus:
A watering can for putzing around the garden offering drinks to the plants.
Sunshine-y napkins for catching drips.
A brand new book to read uninterrupted.
Body oil for an evening glow.
A white dress with nary a grimy handprint to mar it.
Solar powered string lights for ambience.
Blue glass candleholders for even more.
Mother of pearl for catching the light.
In an effort to ground this make-believing in something a bit more down to earth:
+ Contact Congress and tell them that they need to pass The Child Care Is Essential Act to provide grant funding to child care providers in an effort to stabilize the child care sector and support providers so they can safely reopen and operate. (Here’s a good primer on why this is so desperately needed.)
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