painting memories

Today we learned how to make paint brushed from dry yucca.
We smashed one end of the yucca with a smooth rock to make bristles.
We used bark and rocks gathered from adventure walks to make mementos.

The big kids continued painting until dark, sprucing up the play casita.

A little Tom Sawyer might live in each of us.

don’t forget

 

She loves horses and worms. While I suspect she likes horses a bit more, worms (and snakes) are a close second.

When she finds worms on the sidewalk, she places them in garden beds. If there’s no garden available, she puts them in her pocket. (Yeah, I’m still working on avoiding that one.) And where there are no worms, I find her playing with bits of string or yarn, such as this one that she asked to have tied around her finger. Don’t tell her it’s a scarp of red string; it’s a pet worm.

It it these little bits of personality that I hope not to forget.

Quotable Sunday: A Horse

O! for a horse with wings!  ~William Shakespeare, from Cymbeline

Join us for Quotable Sunday.  In a tradition started by Kyrie of Are So Happy and carried on with Kerry of Young Ones and Linnea of PeppermintAlley, we invite you to post a quote on your site. Quotations can be old favorites or new inspiration…funny or sentimental…famous or personal…just give credit (where credit is due) and have fun.  Thank you for joining our Sunday rhythm.

How do you join us?

After you have made a post, link it via comments to this post.  Please invite your friends to share as well by pointing them to the here.  You can also join our flickr group and add your weekly contribution there.  Linnea will host for November, Kerry will host in December, and Kyrie will host in January. (Don’t worry, we’ll link it all up so you know where to go and add your contribution!)

 

 

 

November Upon Us

Stopping in to say hello. This shot (compliments of Riana) is from a few weeks ago…when the last of the cucumbers were picked.

I see:

::: clothes drying on the line (still possible for a bit longer)

::: pepper plants (now their fruits are in a basket)

::: a pumpkin turning orange (now carved, its seeds roasted)

::: a helper watering plants while still wearing her helmet (bike rides still enjoyed)

::: a smile of satisfaction (never have I felt more strongly this tie to the earth)

::: a mini-bus (in want of a wintry adventure no doubt)

The yard looks a lot more bare now and we reluctantly retreat indoors as the days grow cooler and shorter.  Somehow, in the height of summer, it is difficult to imagine that autumn will come and yet here we have arrived.

As the evening hours grow longer, I find there are books to read that have nothing to do with gardens or canning.

And dare I say that the season of creativity and want of creating is returning.  My fingers itch, my notebook no longer dust-covered, I begin again to remember where i left off some months ago…

Quotable Sunday: summer afternoon

“Summer afternoon – summer afternoon

to me those have always

been the two most beautiful words

in the English language.”
-  Henry James

Here’s to enjoying the last Sunday summer afternoon of the season…