Busy Hands Homestead

The evenings have been hazy. "Smokey", Adam never fails to correct me. The sun, glows orange in the afternoon, deepening in color as it moves closer to the horizon.  The mornings are just brisk enough that I have pulled out all the little light weight jackets and we all wore our layers to the last of this summer's Camp Deep Creek Fridays. A small group met us there - some children already back to their school routines.  We spent one last camp day paddling around the pond, lounging on quilts, snacking and chatting, interrupted only by the distant putt putt of - what are they? airplanes or helicopters? Hours later I wrestled two tired children into the car to drive home. Looking out across the river and the town, from my high vantage point on Big Flat Road, I could see nothing of the mountains.  Nothing.  I couldn't help feeling like someone just took a giant big bowl and flipped it down on top of us. Ther...

"Yesterday there was lightning. It started a tiny fire.  This big." Ivory pauses to squeeze her pointer finger and thumb together to show Adam the size of the fire. "On the other side of the mountain.  And then there was a helicopter that brings fire.  No.  Gets all the water from the pond and takes it to the fire.  ALL the water from the pond (big gesture).  And then the water fills up again." She pauses for a breath, stabbing at her leftover macaroni and cheese, looking critically across the table at her father. "But, we didn't see the helicopter land.  Mama really wanted to see it land". She turns to me: "You REALLY wanted to see it land, didn't you Mama?" Sometimes the things that don't happen are even more exciting than the things that do. There was no mention of the life jackets, the canoes, the water bugs with funny flippers, the fish we saw while paddling around the lake or the water snail she proudly carried around...