What to Build, What to Build
Every day is a chance to make something new. At one point this afternoon, my son had a Pepsi 24-pack container on his head as a beautifully bright-colored shield/helmet. And tonight my sweet little sister-in-law delivered her new baby! Not quite the same, but the point is that each day something changes, and that is a welcome thought. In these pictures, Trip and Will are enjoying the spring weather and have decided to make a tank with this box. Video of how it turned out is on Facebook. Or should be if everything works out.
Will's Birthday Rising Out of the Long Cold Winter of 2010
I cannot believe baby Will is six. I know Moms say that all the time and it is pretty boring to read, but too bad. This is my blog. Dear reader, can you tell I have been under some strain these recent months? Well, I rectified that! We got our new dog Beans to celebrate Will's #6 birthday. We took him to Kindergarten for cupcakes with the class. Basically, we all have really enjoyed Beans' total takeover of our lives the last few weeks. Well, strike that. Ha, ha - I have really enjoyed it, funny enough. Beans is a sweet little naughty French Bulldog and I am glad to be his new owner. He relieves stress and makes me smile.
Holiday Season Nonsense
Summer is for Suckers (VIII)
Summer is for Suckers (VII)
Summer is for Suckers (VI)
Summer is for Suckers (V)
Summer is for Suckers (III)
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From 'To A Young Son' by Julia Johnson Davis
In your face I sometimes see
Shadowings of the man to be,
And eager, dream of what my son
Will be in twenty years and one.
But when you are to manhood grown
And all your manhood ways are known,
Then shall I, wistful, try to trace
The child you once were in your face?
Shadowings of the man to be,
And eager, dream of what my son
Will be in twenty years and one.
But when you are to manhood grown
And all your manhood ways are known,
Then shall I, wistful, try to trace
The child you once were in your face?
MY LITTLE ONE - By Tennessee Williams
My little one whose tongue is dumb, whose fingers cannot hold to things, who is so mercilessly young, he leaps upon the instant things, I hold him not.
Indeed, who could? He runs into the burning wood. Follow, follow if you can! He will come out grown to a man and not remember whom he kissed, who caught him by the slender wrist and bound him by a tender yoke which, understanding not, he broke.
Indeed, who could? He runs into the burning wood. Follow, follow if you can! He will come out grown to a man and not remember whom he kissed, who caught him by the slender wrist and bound him by a tender yoke which, understanding not, he broke.