If only

I wish I had my camera back so I could have recorded some of the memories of this past week:

Pictures of two boys playing basketball in a downpour of rain; to remember their grinning faces and the giggles of fleeting childhood; mud running down their backs from playing in the puddles and dirty floors as an aftermath.

The big brown UPS truck arriving with a daughter's new book, even if it was a day late; the smile of a budding author as she emerges using the gifts that God has blessed her with.

Blue ribbons and purple ribbons, and even a "Best of Class" in our local county fair that brought many grins to kids and adults alike. The simple memories of late, late nights of working together and of labeling a couple hundred projects just to keep our word.

I'd take pictures of the goats that are actually inside of a fence eating what they are supposed to be eating; pictures of the kittens and new chicks, and of the frogs that escaped their jar to hop around my living room; Dads on motorcycles, new dirt bike helmets arriving, and bicyle rides; picking grass for the bunnies and overflowing bean baskets being hauled in from the garden; of little girls painting pink toenails, and glimpses of making a batch of soap with a sweet friend.

But since the camera is still in the fix it shop, and moms should not sit at computers all day, and because clothes wash and so do bodies, I had better go win myself a mud fight while the opportunity is still available.