Yesterday we were up early, groggily, preparing to bring a birthday picnic to CT, where all 3 of my kids, and assorted partners,would be meeting us at a park I'd selected, of course, from the internet.
I stumbled about doing some quick garden watering and dog-taking-outing in my nightgown and flip flops; then wandered over to my neighbors. "Come in! Come in!" they called, and the oldest kid grabbed the delicious cat who doesn't get to go out anymore as she is a killer of many things, fast.
And they were all in their pj's, he sautéing beautiful mushrooms he had gathered, the tiny new babe asleep.
No, they couldn't bring little old Shiva Louisa out to pee while we went to picnic at the ocean, because they were picnicking at the ocean.
I was so delighted they all got to go do something nice, for a new job was looming, as well as school and other work and the end of paternity and maternity leaves.
The kid grabbed the cat once more so I could sneak out the door, us all wishing each other a wonderful day at the ocean.
And I finished finding all the thirsty ones and giving them a good drink, thinking of how perfect it is to live in the woods and country where anyone gets to meander in their pj"s and pop over next door to borrow something .
Sometimes I'll be watering and one of the kids will come up...with that pleading look on their face, and I'll say "Sure, go ahead!" and they'll dance about the spray and run through the spray and we'll experiment with different settings or they'll karate kick while I laugh and laugh and suggest new moves.
Or the parents will be busy and the kid will be doing something questionable with a bug and I'll go on over and watch the tiny tree frogs with them, us all hunkered down, and both of us wonder what it's like to be them,and then I'll ferret out a ball I got for the two older ones at the store and we'll play kick ball and laugh and press sticks into the backyard for games and make a goal and then......the ball sails far into the thick, impenetrable blackberry patch. Oh,and we try with the snow shovel but there is no getting that ball , til winter, I tell him.
"Aw heck", I say, "Go grab the one I got for your sister: (and I'll get another one later) and he lights up again and we move away from the blackberries and drop kick it back and forth, HIGH in the air in the hot hot summer sun.
Til I say I'm about cooked, and let's see if we can throw/kick it to each other...oh....15 times, before it hits the ground, before I go in and rest.
So we try and try and laugh and loosen the rules more and more, til I'm done, tongue dragging on the ground like an old fashioned cartoon done.
But he's bouncing and smiling and we talk about stuff he likes to make by himself in the house while the baby is sleeping and off he bounces, to our huge box of legos he's borrowed for the summer, to create something wicked cool, the way my big grown kids did constantly.
Sometimes in my small quiet life I will be writing or dog walking or gardening or cleaning things or sitting out or out with my camera, and they'll come back satiated from going canoeing on the Connecticut, with me just filling with pleasure just from the idea.
The oldest kid going on and on about what they saw and how they swam and what it was like, on our beloved river here.
There are so many kinds of community that knit us together, into our selves; into each other; into a life in the world, each of them vital and complex and nourishment.
I stumbled about doing some quick garden watering and dog-taking-outing in my nightgown and flip flops; then wandered over to my neighbors. "Come in! Come in!" they called, and the oldest kid grabbed the delicious cat who doesn't get to go out anymore as she is a killer of many things, fast.
And they were all in their pj's, he sautéing beautiful mushrooms he had gathered, the tiny new babe asleep.
No, they couldn't bring little old Shiva Louisa out to pee while we went to picnic at the ocean, because they were picnicking at the ocean.
I was so delighted they all got to go do something nice, for a new job was looming, as well as school and other work and the end of paternity and maternity leaves.
The kid grabbed the cat once more so I could sneak out the door, us all wishing each other a wonderful day at the ocean.
And I finished finding all the thirsty ones and giving them a good drink, thinking of how perfect it is to live in the woods and country where anyone gets to meander in their pj"s and pop over next door to borrow something .
Sometimes I'll be watering and one of the kids will come up...with that pleading look on their face, and I'll say "Sure, go ahead!" and they'll dance about the spray and run through the spray and we'll experiment with different settings or they'll karate kick while I laugh and laugh and suggest new moves.
Or the parents will be busy and the kid will be doing something questionable with a bug and I'll go on over and watch the tiny tree frogs with them, us all hunkered down, and both of us wonder what it's like to be them,and then I'll ferret out a ball I got for the two older ones at the store and we'll play kick ball and laugh and press sticks into the backyard for games and make a goal and then......the ball sails far into the thick, impenetrable blackberry patch. Oh,and we try with the snow shovel but there is no getting that ball , til winter, I tell him.
"Aw heck", I say, "Go grab the one I got for your sister: (and I'll get another one later) and he lights up again and we move away from the blackberries and drop kick it back and forth, HIGH in the air in the hot hot summer sun.
Til I say I'm about cooked, and let's see if we can throw/kick it to each other...oh....15 times, before it hits the ground, before I go in and rest.
So we try and try and laugh and loosen the rules more and more, til I'm done, tongue dragging on the ground like an old fashioned cartoon done.
But he's bouncing and smiling and we talk about stuff he likes to make by himself in the house while the baby is sleeping and off he bounces, to our huge box of legos he's borrowed for the summer, to create something wicked cool, the way my big grown kids did constantly.
Sometimes in my small quiet life I will be writing or dog walking or gardening or cleaning things or sitting out or out with my camera, and they'll come back satiated from going canoeing on the Connecticut, with me just filling with pleasure just from the idea.
The oldest kid going on and on about what they saw and how they swam and what it was like, on our beloved river here.
There are so many kinds of community that knit us together, into our selves; into each other; into a life in the world, each of them vital and complex and nourishment.
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