Oooooh-eeeee. It's been a while. We've had one trip after another, gulping the last of summer, then coming home to nights dipping to freezing and hillsides freckled with crimson and rose.
In the last four days I've heard this same mantra four different ways from four different people: enjoy her, it goes so fast. The man at the airport, the woman in the grocery store, on Facebook, in a blog. And to me, those words are a quiet affirmation of our decision to make do with less, so we can have more. More smiling, more laughing, more cuddling, more reading, more wrestling, more discovering, more time.... More.
And in between the crazy, end-of-summer, going-everywhere insanity days, are the slow days. The days at home where it seems we do little more than wrestle with that slippery fish, The Nap. And now that I think about it, those are my favorite. The busy days make me feel like a progressive, multi-tasking, 21st century mama, but the slow days are my tea and wine. And that is a fact I am only now realizing as I write this.
I have loads of photos to go through, laundry piled on the couch, dishes piled by the sink, two suitcases spilling onto the living room floor...but there's cooked lake trout and a tortellini peach salad in the fridge, Juniper has a stack of clean diapers, Osa's wading pool is full of fresh water and I'm looking forward to tomorrow: a day of tea and wine and a little fish wrestling.
Next post: photos from the end-of-summer, promise.