We were going to go hiking but then instead of going straight we turned left, and found ourselves at the river. It's time to put the summer stuff in the car — an extra bathing suit, sunscreen, camp chair, shovels and cups, quilt, binoculars. It's time!
"Do you like the river?"
"Yes."
"Do you like the sand?"
"Yes."
"Do you like the birds?"
"Yes."
"Do you like the trees?"
"Yes."
"Do you like the . . . rocks?"
"Yesssssss."
"Do you like throwing sand on the blanket?"
"Yes."
"I thought so."
Everything is draped in flowers right now. The roses droop majestically and we admire. My little raised beds in the front look scruffy and random, peppered with poppies, alyssum, yellow daisy things, white statice, other things, I have no idea what. The weather has been so unbelievably perfect. I hold my breath.
My sweater comes along! The color is extremely uninspired. The yarn is nice to work with, though I wish my cable were longer. I feel like my stitches are all squished on my cable and I don't like that. I think my other cables are in my basket of shamefully incomplete WIPs. That's like, double lame. Not only are the projects not finished, they have needles/cables sitting in them. Perhaps I should be not so lazy and do something about that. Bah.
Our friends made dinner for us at their beautiful home Saturday night. Their seven-year-old daughter answered the door when we arrived and then wordlessly came out to the porch and squatted down and threw her arms around Amelia, who threw her arms back around her. They stood like that, hugging each other, for a long minute and I almost cried. Sylvie doted on Amelia all night long, letting her play with every toy, bringing her everything she wanted, playing with her for hours. Amelia watched Sylvie and tried to do everything she was doing: eating with a fork, not throwing food at the dog, coloring on the paper and not on the table. When it was time to go home, we were all saying our goodbyes and I asked Amelia to return the baby carriage to Sylvie's room. She wheeled it down there but then didn't come back out. I went down the hall to find her and there she was, alone in Sylvie's (absolutely adorable) bedroom, fully tucked into her big-girl bed, with the covers pulled up to her chin. Serious, hopeful look on her face. God I love this kid.
