A lime with one quarter missing
Dill encrusted farmer's cheese
Summer is here. The last two days have been lovely with the windows open for coffee on the sunporch.
The boy is growing. New shoes times two this week. He is really swimming, and diving for things in the three feet water and running very very fast.
A family beach vacation with the La Grone clan waits in the wings. School will come quick like. For all three of us. The Mister will continue his graduate studies getting his Master in the Art of Teaching. The boy will begin kindergarten in Hillsboro Village. And I will join the Mister at Trevecca in the same program getting my own Master in the Art of Teaching. Fall 2011 could see all three family members at three different elementary schools.
My middle ear infection hasn't gotten better for months and months, and now has gotten worse making for rounds of vertigo and foolish unsteady feet with falls I tried for weeks to excuse by my clumsiness. Post flood, the boy and I can not get well.
So: we are looking for somewhere to move. A bigger newer less moldy place, though we love our sweet old charactered home. We've been here three years now. But healing and learning, they are the current thing, and we need it now.
I never did get anything in the ground by way of a garden this year. Some potatoes came back. And the strawberries, which were all eaten by critters (rabbits, birds) before we could harvest them.
I have extra kids on hand. Boys, largely. Boisterous, farting, laughing, wrestling, loud and funny and cuddly boys who ask, "Who do you like better? Me, or him?" Boys who eat everything and boys who seem to subsist on air and yogurt without lumps. We swim and play and drive in the car and they say, "Play 'Turn me on, Turn me off' -- it's our favorite song," and "Nirvana is my favorite band." They paint and sing made up verses of "He's Got the Whole World In His Hands," or listen to the Beatles, learned either from his music loving parents or his Wii. I haul them to Vacation Bible School where I lead the recreation and my son proudly shows off "my church," with the people he knows he belongs to, the ones who blessed him and laid their hands on him and poured water on his head and laughed when he did karate chops and a Superman jump from the steps just below the baptismal font.
Me and Mister, we're finding more satisfaction in things and generally grooving along nicely. At last, nearly five years since having had it cut off and then losing it eventually, I have replaced my wedding band.
I still need a job other than tending kids, but I sure enjoy spending my days with them.
We need more money for gasoline to drive meals to friends who have babies, and to join members of our Sunday School class for fellowship and to ride over to Ashland City to eat catfish and look out at the river and watch hummingbirds. We need more time to go canoe the Harpeth and attend baseball games and take hikes with the dog and to walk the neighborhood, nodding at friends and strangers and knowing we have full bellies and each other's hands to hold.