|hoagies, potato salad, crudite, chocolate chip cookies|
trying to get every last drop of summer.
one more day until school starts for me and the two small children.
|tree climbing at huber grove.|
today we had a picnic. i wanted to go to southfork, but christian suggested huber grove in midway, and i'm so glad we went. we haven't been this summer, and i had forgotten how cool it is.
|the creamery. snake creek ran through the cellar, keeping the dairy cool. it's built of pot rock, volcanic rock prevalent in midway.|
best of all, the homestead is covered in little plaques with excerpts from huber's journals and poems he wrote. and quotes like this, that casually suggest a dramatic and amazing lifetime: "when huber was in vienna, he spent evenings at the vienna opera, when he was not imprisoned for his faith."
|moses' ninja pose on "naturous" walk.|
we ate. we showed anna from cambridge a beloved place of ours. since my mom grew up in midway, it has a special pull for me, and for the kids, who've spent many summers and vacations there.
|anna from cambridge.|
The smallness of it all makes one wonder;
the sitting on a smooth bank
in the river smell and sun
and ants and grass
tickling up the sleeve.
The dry kiss
and the moist kiss.
The baby reeling through the grass on reckless legs
stretching, head back amid the rubble of our feast,
reaching beyond me for the tiny sun
you are gone with the flick of an eye
gone are the empty cartons of a summer day
gone is the shameless sun.
Suddenly my child stands before the tiny sun
a giant shadow before the tiny sun
and I can see that in his reeling quest for age
he has stolen my years
and shatters in the prism of my tears
and with the tiny river I am young no more.