Saturday Snapshots — Here in the Bonny Glen

September 14, 2008 @ 6:40 am | Filed under: Photos

I love to watch these two playing together. They are such good pals. (Most of the time.)

Yes, you heard me, young lady. You know what “most of the time” means.

By the way, did you notice Wonderboy’s shirt? ’Twas a gift from some beloved friends back in Virginia.

How perfect is that? (Thank you so much, S & C!)

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Activities Coordinator says:

What, exactly, are you trying to imply about that darling, impish angel?

Nice shirt, Wonderboy!
Posted on September 14th, 2008 at 10:14 am

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Jane, 15 yrs old
Rose, 11 yrs
Beanie, 9 yrs
Wonderboy, 6 yrs
Rilla, 4 yrs
Huck, 19 months

and Scott, the love of my life

“Exploration,” says John Stilgoe, author of Outside Lies Magic, “is a liberal art, because it is an art that liberates, that frees, that opens away from narrowness. And it is fun.”

Yes: it is so, so much fun, and that is why I write these posts all chattery with excitement over this or that connection the kids made today. (Or that I made myself!) I know I get carried away, but that’s the point, isn’t it, that way leading on to way has carried me away?

And yet—and yet—I think we are at once ‘carried away’ and made more fully present in the now, more rooted, by these relationships between ideas about things past and future. The joy of connection makes me want to celebrate this moment, this brief encounter with wild-haired child and broad-trunked tree, bus going by, sign on church wall, Scottish warlord creeping over the tower wall and startling the English soldier’s wife who has just put her babe in arms to sleep by crooning that the Black Douglas won’t get him. Child, laughing, shouting “Dinna ye be sae sure aboot that!” across the courtyard outside the library. How can I not celebrate this freedom?

(from a post called Way Leads on to Way)

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Every day is complicated, messy, and full of friction. And every day has glorious or cozy moments worth celebrating. I seldom bother to chronicle the friction and the mess because writing time is fleeting and precious—and childhood even more so. I’d rather capture the small joys that I might forget—or take for granted—if I don’t take time to set them down in words.

(Excerpt from this post about Real Life, quoted here because I don't want anyone to be under the impression that things are always perfect around here! Heaven knows we are anything but. Perfect, frictionless, orderly? Nope. Happy? Most of the time!)