(This here be post 401. Heh - I recall making a huge deal about post the 100th, and here I am at 400+ with hardly a blink. I must be getting used to it!)
Yesterday morning, I awoke to the most-perfect-smell-combination-EVER of cinammon rolls+bacon+coffee.
It's clear that my brother KNOWS how to wake up his houseguests.
I had taken the Things in a northwesterly direction on Saturday to visit their cousins, and for to spend time hanging out with my older sibling. Big Bro has two girls, one of whom is like the missing link for my kids - when the three of them get together it's a though no power on EARTH could get between them and their goings-on. It's a thing of beauty, I tell you, that they get along so well, because that means that "visiting" my brother essentially means that I have NO parental responsibilities for the period of time that I'm at their house.
I go there as often as possible.
The other child, a lovely/assertive/attention-seeking/determined little girl, is MY playmate for the total amount of time she can get my attention. She thinks I'm pretty funny, and because I've got NOTHING to do for my OWN children, I get to play paper dolls and Polly Pocket with her, watch her do cartwheels in the living room (she's 6, and tiny), and play with her hair.
She's my wee buddy, and I was her entertainment, until I got tired of all the kid-energy, and so broke open the computer and showed her how to play "Chuzzle."
Heh heh heh. I'm sure her Dad loves me for that right about now.
On Saturday afternoon we forewent the usual "let's pack the kids up in the van and go find something to do so they quit playing GameCube for an hour", and instead utilized the sunny warm-ish day to take a hike up their backyard.
Yes, I said UP.
They live in SouthWest Virginia, which, if you look at a map, is plenty hillly.
They live on the side of one of those hills.
Their backyard IS the hill. We climbed up it, then up some more, turned right at the fire road, went down, then up, then another right, then down, to an overlook of the valley below, and thus I was happy.
I love me some mountain vistas. LOVE them.
The breeze was kicking up, which I also happen to love, and the fresh air and exercise were just the ticket for a Saturday afternoon with the family. My little niece kept me company, chattering away about Pokemon and what was in her backpack and asking after my overall comfort level. My own children raced ahead with their cousin, involved in their own moment, creating new lands in their virtual world of pretend.
Going back DOWN the slippery hillside toward home, I was tasked with helping Thing 2 navigate the slopes. That boy is NOT the natural daredevil his older brother is. He's much more sensible, and has a vastly higher regard for his own safety and the overall status of his skeleton than does Thing 1. While holding his hand and helping him gain the confidence needed to navigate the downhill, I thought no moment could more perfect. A funny thing to think, right then, don't you think? There I was, simply walking down a hill toward a treefort on the side of a mountain in the Blue Ridge of Virginia on a warm sunny March afternoon. Nothing spectacular was happening. Nothing grand, nothing remarkable.
Yet there it is, a memory, burned right into my brain, of young children running down a path in the woods, sun on their backs, chattering away in excitement and with the boundless energy of youth. A memory of the warm hand of Thing 2, his hand as big as mine, his indiscernably colored eyes looking up as me as we made our way down the hill; of Thing 1 perched in the treefort, hair backlit, a happy grin on his freckled face; of Niece 2 bobbing along the path shouting at her cousins and sister to slow down; of Niece 1's wide open smile of pure joy at being the center of so much welcome attention.
A perfect moment. Nothing could be more perfect, I thought.
That is, until I woke up yesterday morning to the most-perfect-smell-combination-EVER of cinammon rolls+bacon+coffee.
I'm still juggling the relative perfection merits of those moments.......and glad to have had the weekend I did that brought them to me.
Helped a friend move yesterday. One trip was all it took. I got to traipse around in a part of the county I hardly EVER go to, which was a little like exploring a foreign land.
I LIKE exploring, and driving around in places I've never been. It makes me happy. I don't mind getting lost, even, as long as I don't have to BE anywhere. So, getting to play around in new territory while doing something USEFUL was added extra bonus weekend goodness.
Just thought you should know.
And how was YOUR weekend???? I want to know. Please to leave the details in the comments.