A Rock Home Companion
Every morning, I go outside to take out the diapers, and I stay a little long. It’s the time of year that I feel things slipping, the air cold, the boys tall, the leaves red. The stones on the outside are cold, creeping with a few spiders that seem to hold their breaths. The horses’ coats and the grasses hold droplets like a net of mirrors. The sunshine looks chilly, and the one yellow rose shimmies a little in the wind.
Inside the stone walls, things surge. Testosterone wins. I’m older and caddywompus, their birthday time of year.
We made caramel apples, and they are, by far, the most difficult project I’ve ever endured with my children. We’ve never done this one before. I expected a thin coat of caramel, but rather it seems that I dipped our fruit into some fast-cooling and sweetened hair wax. Once it touched the skin, it glued and strung out like candy strings.
When the teeth sunk in, they didn’t come out. Ian stayed in this position for a while, and Jude just decided to lick his to death.
Putting Seth’s coat in the laundry, I breathed in the smell of campfire and then pulled a dried leaf from its pocket. Tomorrow, you’ll hear from Seth about his camping trip with Isaac.
On another note, would you visit me today at Blissfully Domestic and link up to one of your creative posts? We’re talking about writing and would love to hear what you think.