Summer Days

People keep talking about summer coming to a close.  

That's so depressing!

So we are soaking up every last ray of sun. 

Eating lots of grapes. 

Swimming. 

Hanging out with neighbors. 

And hanging onto our lazy summer days for as long as we can. 

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Crouching tiger. Hidden sister.

One day last week when I picked up the girls at daycare all of the kids in Elisabeth's class had their faces painted.  It was actually really confusing trying to sort through a sea of bloody monster faced boys and beautiful bright kitty faced girls.  It took me a while to find my own tiger.

Sydney more than freaked when she saw Elisabeth.  She's had quite an overactive imagination going lately (she sees a scary ghost boy to be exact but who's keeping track?) and this didn't help matters!  It took a while for me to pry her fingernails out of my arm and get her to stop screaming and it took a lot of coaxing by Elisabeth as she tried to reassure Sydney that it was still her loving big sister underneath the "scary" mask.  Eventually Sydney warmed up to her kitty-cat sister when she realized the kitty was coming home with us instead of the usual Elisabeth, and they are now loving siblings again.

  Thank the lord. Because I love watching my children transform into a giggling push-me-pull-you.

Preserved memories

The farmhouse.

No longer.

Still, this place is a foundation carved full of memories.

Literally. 

We may not be able to climb the trees or play by the fireplace any longer,

But you can bet we will remember every time we step on the ash-stained limestones that will be placed in our garden.

We will miss you, dear farmhouse.

You have been good to us. Thank you for giving us so much of yourself.

Ode to a farmhouse

This was originally drafted last year -- July, 2009.  Never posted.  I am not sure why I never posted it, but it seems appropo now, considering the farmhouse is gone. The city has claimed the land via emminent domain to soon build a huge bypass.  There is nothing left at the farmhouse but weeds. Ground up tree stumps. A demolished fireplace. An open foundation. And a ton of memories. 




















Dear farmhouse, thank you so much for all that you have given to so many of us. While I have only known you for less than a decade, Mark has known you for all his life. His mom lived here with her many siblings and has fond memories.  For me, you provide the perfect tree for my children to climb and to hit a pinata with their distant relatives. You provide the perfect cement slab for watching the trains go by. You provide the perfect land to run around and play. The perfect sheds to go exploring and discovering old treasures. You provide the perfect home for us to gather at. To reflect on life. To reconnect with family. To appreciate our elders. To think about our elders growing up in this house. The history in these walls runs deep. I don't know much of it, but I can feel it when I step onto your land, dear farmhouse. I will miss you sorely.