We bought land with the idea of creating one.

We'd always been meaning to clear one.

But five years into living on the 7 acres that, in this crisis, are our absolute gift from Jesus and this boymom's saving grace, we still had never made time to actually BLAZE one.

A running path around our property.

Until now.

I'm sorry, we're homeschooling and not leaving the house for the next two to 20 weeks of our lives WHAT? 😳

Step 1. Boys, go grab you some shovels.

So for the last few days, we've abandoned math and social studies for some "science" and "health and PE," which has included the digging, raking and redistributing of pinestraw across the property. We've removed bushes and dug up roots, and we've sent little boys on bikes to pound down dirt to make us look like real path clearers instead of just amateur dirt movers.

And yesterday, after even the flu case joined us in his you-still-have-24-hours-left-of-quarantine-inside-your-quarantine-mask, the boys completed something in less than a week that we have all been dreaming about for five years.

Our new .3 mile running path — the one we plan to hit every day of our new corona-cation lives.

And as we brushed off our rakes and took a look at the third-of-a-mile product of four boys who busted booty and worked together (who now believes slave labor is her favorite homeschool tool? 🙋‍♀️), God opened my eyes to the specialness and significance of that moment.