Wet Feet

So, we thought way back in July that we would be getting a few new additions to our Chaotic Quiver. We did not.

God had other plans for our summer.

And I would not have wanted to be anywhere else...

But here in this place, this house on the creek. Where kids can literally run down the hill and wash their cares away. If only for a few minutes.

Where lizards are captured and their lost tails are found in the middle of the lunch table, still wiggling. Comic relief.

Where boys feel brave enough to rough out a trail in the woods, only to wake up to chigger bites in the morning. You know where chiggers go, right?

Where the same brave boys spray down hornet nests with the water hose and one boy gets a trip to the ER. Allergic reaction, lesson learned?

Where the kids load up the john boat and head out on a fishing expedition upstream, all on their own. Growing up before my eyes.

Where wet towels and mud and our creek rat dog leave streaks all over the kitchen floor. Kids.

Where I belong.

This past weekend we were respite for a ten year old girl. She enjoyed the creek too! We took her to the ocean Saturday evening, Wayne and I watched as she jumped in the waves with our kids. I could feel the surf under my feet, shifting. I could imagine that to her we were just more faces in a sea of faces. The enormity of it all washed over me. And at that very moment Wayne squeezed my hand and said, I'm ready for this.

That man.

This dream.

This particular boy takes much pleasure in torturing the girls.

Enjoying the perks at the children's ER.

Redneck slip-n-slide...before or after Annie scraped her rear on a rock?

Sometimes, it just takes my breath away.

A little jaunt with Dad.

Cutest little firecrackers around.

Scaring all the fish away.

There's a dog in the crossfire!