a love list

Snuggle time with T where he reveals his deepest paleontological theories ("...maybe T-Rex doesn't really have short arms, maybe they just haven't found all the arm bones yet...").

Breeze at the garden that makes the pigweed do a twirly dance on the stem.

Pears getting good and ripe on the counter.

Tiny bits of colorful knitting found all around the house (evidence of J's prolific creating).

Calypso beans snug in their crackly cases on the vine, becoming themselves again (from yin-yang patterned, to green, back to yin-yang).

tornado facts

Scrupulous note-taking by J. Owl while reading a book about tornadoes.

making it real

Tiny dwellings for tiny folk. My daughter, J. Owl spent a focused three hours in the yard creating these fairy houses. She gathered and moved moss, made mud cement to hold support beams together, and thoughtfully added fluff to sleeping spaces. As I watched from the back door I sometimes saw her mouth moving--intoning or play acting?

Later that evening, in the blue-grey dusk, she went out to visit the houses. She returned suddenly, breathless and excited, saying she heard the grass "crunch" near this underground shelter. Could it be?

sticks in the house

Three times a week, sometimes more, I find sticks in the house and dutifully return them to their outdoor realm. They appear on chairs, or on bookshelves, or inside a rain boot. Sometimes I find sticks with a length of orange yarn tied to one end, the other end tied to the leg of a kitchen chair. And a few times I have found curved sticks with white twine tied to each end, making a bow (these I do not toss outside, but stash in a corner for later use, you never know). Sticks have a way of finding their way in. They are elemental. I defer.