Dear loved ones. Even if I don't get all our close-ups off to you all, I do okay getting the pictures downloaded here, & using the time it takes between each shot to review my calendar & make mind maps of things the kids are wanting to pursue. But by the time all that gets done, usually one of them wakes up & here's 4 year-old Lake, on my lap, freezing cold. I grabbed a towel from the line (I set up a desk out here in the woods this morning. Moved inside when the red squirrels began yelling at me en masse from a ballsy 2 feet away. "Aaah!" Then came back out again when they left.) The towel was wet. Sorry, lovey. So now we're inside, getting sweatpants & sweatshirts. Now we're out & his feet are cold, so it's off to search for some slippers. And now my brain is fried. Not mention he is literally tapping on each finger as I write, which is sweet & funny & neat & makes for a heavy typing experience & more typos than my usual slew.
So I apologize for any lack of elegance here. I mean eloquence. If I start apologizing for lack of elegance than I might as well forget it. That's not something I offer. But a bit of clear writing is only polite. He just typed that sentence for me. I was going to say that in a another way. But you've happened upon a work morning with my boy.
I loved, loved Cape Cod. I would like to call it home. Finally my freshwater family joined me where I feel the happiest, by the sea. They discovered for the first time hermit crabs, jellyfish. They collected rocks for my color-study collection & loaded them up in their shoes. We headed out one morning to celebrate our 10 year anniversary, I mentioned that already. What I didn't say was that we had no idea where we were going, had no reservations or ideas other than the swan boats in Boston. Hotels in Boston were over $350 a night, not a big deal to some (& we enjoy a beautiful room as much as anyone), but our family priority is not fancy beds. "What about Cape Cod?" D kept saying. "Sure, I don't know anything about it."
We used a little bit of intentional creating (email me if you want to know) & ended up with a house on the beach that usually rents for $3,000 a week for less than a third of what a hotel would cost. I mention all this because people think it costs thousands of dollars for something like this & that's just not true. It just takes wallops of gratitude, being in communication & being willing to be unreasonable; to not let our "reasons" determine our life. This is something D & I agree on.
An unreasonable life is a life worth having. The problems don't go away, they often get bigger, but they are worthwhile problems! This is truly an adult extension of the unschooling/homeschooling philosophy of following one's interests. My darling friend Patricia at Wonderfarm has a great explanation of how this works, here. Her oldest child is heading off to NYU this weekend, after a homeschooling childhood, getting himself into a great private high school & now this new adventure. I'm sure she would have followed him to Timbuktu if that were the game he was playing.
One last thing. After these pictures were taken our oldest boy couldn't get himself off the beach. He had a horrific fever & didn't feel ill, just totally wiped. Then we discovered that the Cape is the Lime's Disease capital of the world. Great. We have a few friends with it & happen to know it's debilitating & difficult to manage. Then I woke up with a tick crawling on my arm. Oh, that was terrifying. Not the tick, but wondering where it came from - one of the kids?? Each boy in turn got whatever that was - 3 days of being hot (104'), tired & weak. I was terrified, but D just kept caring for them in his special way. It went away, & we are all well, but not with out all of us cutting our hair for a full bug-search. They love cutting my hair. Me, too. It was waist-length but a mess, since they are my official hair stylists. But oh, it was hard to shear those curls, those baby wisps, those 70's wonder-wings. My babies all look unusually preppy & I feel like I don't know them. Their actions surprise me & they seem older, like miniature fraternity boys. I'm excited to get to know them with a bit of beginner's mind.
how does this man know i am taking his picture from so far away? yoloboards are cool...
"there's! hey! there's something! they're...crawling somethings in here!!" hermits remind me of d. intricate, internal, adorable, protective. when they come out of their shells it's gratifying, flattering.