Not every day. But some days, it is good to be just sick enough to have low ambition. To be unable to process all “shoulds.” And to be well enough to enjoy it, and to do the dishes gladly while the house goes to pieces around your slow self.
And the girls shovel dry dirt. They play with the sheets you put on the line. Then they invite you to share a pot of pretend “cream tea” at the table, and you agree. You aren’t thinking of other things you could do. You aren’t thinking of anything- the sheets to fold, the floor to clean- only what good company those girls are, how Helen makes you feel cared for and Margot makes you laugh.