Mothering: The In Be-Tween Years

We stood on her deck, as the sun slipped low in the sky.  It was the end of summer and the air was pregnant with memories of lazy days and long slow heat-infused moments. The fish-pond bubbled and gurgled beneath us as we watched slick orange and white bodies vying for food. Our hands cupped our wine glasses as her kids jockeyed for position around us and between us.  Picaso-inspired colouring...
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