Today I saw the first sparkle of snow in the air. My little boy didn’t believe me. I shouted “Buddy, look in the air, see the snow falling? ”
“No, it’s just little bubbles mom!” he replied.
The thought had never occurred to me before. How awesome would it be to rain tiny bubbles, like the bubbles in a glass of wine and floating through the air, thick as a blizzard and completely harmless! The forecaster would say, “Partly sunny today with a chance of bubbles!”
It’s a child’s dream to make bubble men in the back yard instead of snowmen. It would be like pouring a hot tub full of bubble bath so thick they invade the neighbors yard.
The thought occurred to me that we spend our childhood jumping in to things. We go from snowbanks, to pools, to leaf piles, and haystacks, and then can be so afraid to do anything like that when we get older. Some people forget how to live and get old and bitter. I don’t care so much as to think of what other people think of me, so long as we are happy.


fall leaves

Every year it’s the same thing, a hurricane coming up the coast and everyone pulling out their boats. I just barely keep up with raking the leaves, and finally give up. After two or twenty nights and days of brisk October westerly wind the trees start to let the moonlight back upon the ground. It sure lightens my mood to see that big yellow globe bursting her aura through the empty branches. The days get shorter but the sunsets are more spectacular since the orange hues aren’t blocked by the thick Maple trees. Since most of the summer residents have gone the Maples no longer need to serve as a privacy hedge. I dump barrels of leaves into the chicken pen where they are yet again appreciated. The girls play queen of the leaf pile mountains and still don’t lay eggs. My son continuously plows through raked piles himself. I would never give him hell for that. I usually join him. I know snow is coming soon.

airhead at the beach

I’m having a personal space issue lately. I can’t seem to get a second to myself so I told the family we were going to the beach. Puppies old dogs husband children and me sand flying everywhere into every thing and every crack. I sat my butt in cold sand with old dog, hoping for a little moment. I watched the horizon and tried to send out a silent prayer but I couldn’t even get that finished before sand puppies children and husband go zooming by blasting the moment with confusion and balls seaweed and laughter. Back and forth up and down round and round and into the ocean. Wet puppies covered with sand. Johnny screaming at the top of his lungs. I’ve seen the days more fascinating than this many times. There was a fairly good surge moving and the pup kept falling in. Good humor. But now that we’re home every one is settled down.