Switching Seasons (and a bit of chatter)

Not long ago, as we were driving home after having run some errand or other, the GPS Jesse had been fiddling with began demanding that I “turn left”.

“Jesse?” I asked. “Where’s this GPS taking us?”

“Home,” Jesse replied.

“But I don’t want to turn left,” I insisted (as “left” was the opposite direction of home).

“Well,” Jesse said thoughtfully, “it’s taking us home, . . . but I don’t know what home.”

I imagine I could work that nicely into a talk or lesson. Something similar to the old Cheshire cat’s comment about it not mattering which road you take if you don’t know where you want to go.

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Mette has recently expanded her vocabulary beyond “bock bock” (what our backyard chickens say) to include a most pleasant “Hi”. In fact, she can’t really stop hi-ing people. At the grocery store she “Hi”s everyone she sees. At first they are charmed by this cherub-like child and happily return her greeting, but, if they happen to be on the same isle with us – and not just passing – they become quickly unsure of how to handle the situation as they don’t want to ignore a small child but don’t feel completely comfortable responding to 25 “hi”s from a stranger – even if that stranger is very small. And very dear.

Luckily for her, I am in love enough with her little, sweet (and slightly raspy) hellos to respond back all the day long.

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We are in the middle of switching seasons around here. Still wearing shorts and flip-flops, but occasionally lighting our “Autumn Wreath” Yankee candle and noticing the red at the very tippy tops of our backyard maples. We haven’t quite abandoned summer but are starting to embrace a bit of fall – and the contrast of the lasts of one with the firsts of the other is rather lovely. Yesterday we spent the evening swimming at the home of a neighbor. Swimming. Summer. Then we all came home feeling so cold that I put snuggly, long-sleeved jammies on Summer (the person) and Mette, and made everyone hot-cocoa before bed. Fall. The kids are already nearing the end of their third week of school (and the panic I felt over the looming task of re-figuring schedules and homework and life with folders and backpacks and assignments and agendas has mostly worked its way out simply by . . . each day happening). Then today I bought a very summery-looking watermelon at the store – all the while recognizing that it very well might be the last watermelon I would buy this year. (Though, I may have to find just one more. . . . Upon arriving home, I attempted to carry three jugs of laundry detergent into the house at the same time as the watermelon and . . . a small catastrophe occurred. Weep.) (I don’t know how I feel about putting something in parentheses right after having used parentheses. Eek. But I needed to add something very side-note-ish about feeling uncomfortable about my use of the word “jug” to describe a container of laundry detergent. But it wasn’t a box. It was liquid. What should I call it? Should I have just said “container”? Is there a better option?)

Anyway, with summer fading out, I’ll end with a last few pictures from the season – starting with this one of Jesse that gives you a proper feel for how we looked and felt pretty much every time we went outside for adventures while we were in Georgia. I should clarify that the beach always felt breezy and nice. But the rest of the time? This first pic: