From the Mouths of Babes

Between the frantic dash to complete a 1000 foot fence in 1000 degree weather we managed to welcome a few tiny visitors to the land this weekend. Jeremy's nephews stopped by Saturday to marvel at the wonders of country life which, if you're 4 and 2 years old, include a tractor ride, 4 inch high cow patties, cow horns, rocks, and golf balls. Yes. Golf balls. These are scattered about the property along with a variety of other trash that continues to somehow emerge from the ground. If you're 4 years old and collecting rocks on a forest trail, finding a golf ball can seem pretty dang exciting. Enough to elicit a squeal and require that all adults present spend at least one minute examining the golf ball to confirm that it is pretty awesome. Aside from this event, the boys were just as excited as we expected they would be to feed donkeys, throw rocks, and make animal noises.

(Sidenote: Why is it that adults are always, withOUT fail, compelled to ask a child "What sound does an X make" when an X and a child are near each other? Why? I mean, I'm guilty of this too, except I tend to pose more challenging questions than your run-of-the-mill dog or cow sound. Like yesterday, I pointed at deer, spiders, and caterpillars and asked the boys "what sound do they make," because, seriously, I want to know! If you were wondering, they all apparently sound like donkeys. All of them.)

Well, to be more specific, the 4 year old was just as excited as we expected. The 2 year old was a bit frightened of the tractor and only wanted to feed the animals one individual grain at a time (causing a brief animal riot), and would rather hit a stick against the ground, thank you very much. He was totally non-plussed by the entire situation. It wasn't until we walked to the pond and turned our backs for one second that the relatively quiet 2 year old erupted with the loudest shout we had heard all day, in his raspy 2 year old voice....."ROLY POLYYYYYYYYYY!!!" We all turnd at once to find the child squatting over a pile of rocks and pointing excitedly, the hugest baby-toothed grin plastered to his face: "roly poly roly polyyyyy!!!" Atop the pile of rocks indeed wandered one lonely roly poly, an insect at home in both the country and city; something that he finally could identify. Here we were trying to impress our visitors with shmancy equipment and exotic animals when they were still able to find wonder in the tiniest things. It takes a kid to bring you down a notch that way.

Not that it's particularly interesting, but a fence related post(s) is forthcoming.

For now, it's Sunday. Sunday means I'm thinking about a week of work which really just means I'm counting down to another weekend and some serious land time. Sunday nights make me anxious, gloomy, and annoyed. The best remedy for this is, as usual, Boo. If you also suffer from the toxic Sunday blues, then this is for you, too: