An Hour and a Hill

On a recent weekend walk, albeit one peppered with bickering and tantrums, the kids found a hill.  They then proceeded to body surf for an hour.  It was a lot like sledding without the snow, or the sled.   

Everyone was fairly timid when they began.  But, variations came fast, including head first and the all-kid pile up.  For times when the sibling tensions return, I'll have to return to that hill.

The Best Thing

So often, the best thing we can do is go on a hike.  Among the hustle and bustle of our daily lives, and the heated dramas that happen in between, wandering outdoors brings out the best in all of us.  

Fleeting Fall

On Monday, I caught a bike ride along the Boulder Creek in the height of Fall.  There seemed to be a general consensus among everyone I saw that we were lucky to catch it.

Two days later, we had 8 inches of snow.  There's really no choice but to feel lucky again.  This time, to take a walk with my little boy who hardly remembered the last snow.  Clara certainly felt lucky.  She ran outside to fill her mouth with huge clumps of snow, saying "I've been longing for this all year!"  For her, it's not unlike living in Appalachia and craving red dirt.

The only unlucky ones were the trees.  The whole world looked 6 feet shorter as they slumped, and too often snapped, with the weight of the new season.

100 Bulbs, 100 Flowers

The Start:

The Finish:

I have felt a biblical mantra in the back of my head lately: "You reap what you sow."  The thought is both vague and frightening in the parenting realm, so I am applying it to gardening:  The other night, girls and I planted 100 bulbs.  When we finished, it was dark.  We'll have to keep the squirrels away all winter, but surely we'll have a big row of daffodils next spring.  It's something I've always wanted.

P.S.  The wheelbarrow did eventually fall over.  No one seemed to mind.

Bugs: The Praying Mantis

June and John and I spent about 30 minutes communing with a praying mantis this week.  We've never seen one at our house before, but I must say, they are strange creatures.  Their little trianglular heads follow you with their eyes like Martians.  

One citing, and it has certainly joined the ranks of other favored bugs.  John is ready to introduce it to his his blue baby grasshopper feather. 

Bugs: The Pet Grasshopper

This is John's pet baby grasshopper.  The 1/2 inch blue feather.  He played with it and took care of it for hours.  June joined in and matched his affection with maternal love.  In fact, a few days later, it is still in their realm of concern.  

For a moment, I watched and projected an adult perspective:  Wow.  Am I raising some fragile souls here?  We are truly apart from the world.  Do I need to harden them up a little bit?  

But, I quickly let go of my jaded concern and embraced their coddling.  Honestly, it feels good to care for just about anything.  And that includes a tiny little 1/2 inch blue baby grasshopper feather.

Fall Herding

Last Sunday, we had a picnic and hike at nearby Chautauqua.  I'd call it a family hike, but these days, it's not exactly family togetherness.  Will and Clara trail run ahead, June and/or John creep at a snail's pace, and Jeff and I hang out somewhere in the middle, trying to keep everyone in sight.  

Still, I could never get enough Fall hiking, even if it is really a herding exercise in disguise.

 

Entertainment IV: Art

With colder weather settling in, the volume of art projects reach a new proportion in our household.  June came home from school today inspired for me to trace her.  I don't fully understand this narcissistic interest.  No matter who the tracer is (John, Clara, me), the shape always turns out a little weird.

 

Anyway, by the end of the project, June proudly hung her life-size self beside her bed.  And I hung up my to do list:  clean out art cabinet.