As I type this evening there are three nakeds in my house, wild children with their bellies out.
I will never understand their fascination with this activity but at some point Big Guy decided that having one’s belly out was a delicious experience. And so on rare occasions he will bare what he considers the most sacred portion of his torso and dance about the house singing songs about being an evil scientist. Sister will beg to follow him, bouncy into my room to announce her weirdness (shirtless). Moose follows, squealing something that sounded like a combination of being an evil scientist and engaging in weirdness.
They are always convinced that they are being boundless and naughty, so much so that I’m often tempted to tame them just on principle. But they love having their bellies out and at this point neither their father nor I could care less. He has one day left to himself before work begins tomorrow and I am buried in a pile of used Kleenex's, a cedar fever sufferer after yesterdays wilderness walk.
***
This probably wasn’t the best timing for country exploration since I spent Friday in bed. My spine pain was so manageable in December it was truly a beautiful thing. But this week, a combination of treatment ahead of my ability and the intensity of physical therapy, I was pushed back into disc pain. It was discouraging and I shed a tear or a few over it. But the invitation to explore a country ranch came regardless and although the drive was rough and I face planted in the living room as soon as we arrived…I did not want to be left alone in a strange house while the family explored.
And at first I was really putting on a brave face but as I moved my body (carefully) I found it could do more than I’ve done in years with moderate pain. I saw my son climb his first cliff, my fearless daughter lead the family through a treacherous washout, and we watched Moose toss rocks off cliffs with his new blond friend. Don’t worry. I held onto the rooming twins by their belt loops to keep their curiosity from cliffs edge.
It was truly beautiful acreage, reminding me some of my Tehachapi mountain home and some of our childhood explorations in the mountain cabin of Lake Isabella, where my grandparents lived. I envisioned hours spent with Brad running down the mountain side, searching paths and trails, crashing through brush and climbing up granite boulder cliffs. The sandstone here was less forgiving and the downed trees were riddled with termites, both items ripe for the destruction that our family wrought upon them. But the kids couldn’t imagine how much fun it would be to beat brush with sticks, crash rocks in riverbeds and run wherever their feet would take them.
When Dr. Ben invited us out throw rocks off cliffs and logs into the river, my children had no idea what kind of childish delights would be in store for them. And they were all three fascinated with what they would find around each corner. But I think they would all agree that learning how to shoot bb’s and 22’s at old milk jugs was a favorite part. Or maybe it was when Dr. Ben tossed them around for an hour like spiraling airplanes. They came home with a found tibia bone of some sort, spiral shells from an ancient ocean bed, and quartz rock crystals.
Thankfully, we discovered no snakes and no snakes discovered us. And we left the disgusting armadillo shell where we found it.
0 comments:
Post a Comment