We managed to slip out of town to the beach house and have enjoyed a few warm and sunny days, but now a cold front is rolling on in. At the ready are Playmobil sets, plastic Civil War soldiers, vintage Hardy Boys hardcovers, two decks of playing cards, and a variety of other wet weather beach house staples. I have good chocolate and a good book on hand, and am...
Alastair and Jacqui were once “the church sound guy and his worship singer wife” to me, little more than strangers. In fact the first real conversation I had with Alastair went something like this: Alastair, standing in front of me, a microphone stand between us: “Sing louder.” Me: “I can’t.” Alastair: *sigh* Slowly we became good friends, and now ten years later, Alastair and Jacqui are as close to my...
I’m hoping to begin this book with the little ones as soon as we’ve settled into our new dinner–>cleanup–>schoolwork–>bedtime routine.
She gets an unreal amount of attention when she rolls around in public wearing these skate/shoe thingies. Every comment she overhears from a little one (Mama, HOW is that girl skating on her SHOES??) makes her smile wide. The floors at IKEA are the bestest of all.
I hear giggles mixed with serious discussion drifting up the stairs to my sick bed. I haul myself to standing, hobble to my camera, and tiptoe down the open stairs to see exactly how this day of their summer vacation is starting.
It was slippery outside this morning, too slippery to run. I made maple oatmeal scones instead. We sipped coffee and read about dinosaurs, then I retreated to the home office to begin my day.
A sign hangs at the beginning of the long driveway, but I only catch the first word, Woods, white painted letters on dark pine. We pass fenced pastures dotted with small barns and stands of tall trees, only tufts of orange and brown leaves left at their very tops, their bodies spare streaks below. The horses lift their heads as we pass. We park under an old maple and haul...
When we are here there is no hurrying and no herding and no lunch-packing, no prying small hands off of my body, no pushes toward the school door, no blue eyes full of longing to be home. We walk along the bay bottom at low tide and dig, and we poke at slimy things with long sticks. We pick up the hermit crabs, and we talk about how we love...
Four cousins who had never met became fast friends. The brothers gave a free concert to the frogs in the pond, and the frogs gave a free concert back to the brothers. And I floated barefoot through the clover and whispered to the fireflies, and refilled my margarita glass once or twice.
This morning we discovered in a most comical way that my eight year old is a grapheme-color synesthete, meaning that, in her mind, each letter of the alphabet has a color associated with it. Words have colors, too, usually based on their first letter but not always. Watch the video for an explanation of our discovery, and a demonstration. I am amazed that I have been her mother for eight...