Then she was ordered outside. Her mother demanded that some work be done and some fresh air drank in. So she made her way to the field and, grumbling, picked up a hay fork, and started filling the wheelbarrow with straw. With each fork full she gained strength and energy, and each time the wheelbarrow was filled again she felt an exuberance that made her break out in song. Spring was here and there was much work to be done, but there was so much joy to be had, as well.
Five loads, maybe six, maybe seven, she isn't quite sure. She filled it again and again and again and with each load her stress melted away; with each load her own load felt lighter. She hadn't thought that filling a wheelbarrow with moldy straw would help anything in the least, but in the end she had to admit that her mother had been right: she did need to be outside.
Over and out,