The public library has a stand of fishing poles provided by the Arkansas Fish and Wildlife Commission that can be rented out for two weeks. We borrowed one on Sunday and took it to the lake. Four bream and one yearling bass later, we declared it a good pole and hope to get a few more fishing trips out of it before we give it back.
This drawing occurred during a conversation Woody and I had today about butt-wiping. It wasn't one I expected to have, but it did make me wonder something important. What does Woody think about the stories I post about him on the Internet? Fox is too young to understand it, but Woody knows I keep a blog. He knows I write stories and take pictures to share. There's a story with this picture that I don't feel quite right telling, because maybe it isn't mine to tell entirely, at least not without Woody's informed blessing, which I'm not sure he could give just yet. So, I am going to have to think about that one and figure out what to do.
I have been trying (lazily) to learn guitar for a couple of years now. Today I thought to pull up the chords on my phone to look at while practicing, and Woody, Fox and I all took turns strumming. I like learning something brand-new in front of my kids. I can't quite explain it, but I think it helps them to feel big in what they do, even if they struggle. It's good for me, too, to play around in beginner's mind. It's a place I like being.
We met Daddy Honey on his walk home from work and did a little urban hiking.
Woody collided with Fox on the sidewalk at one point, and he scraped an elbow while Fox scraped a knee. We sat on a grassy hill to recover for about ten minutes, but for the rest of the trip Woody was very concerned about the blood, the tingly pain, the forming scab, and the specter of a bath later which promised more stinging.
But we spent a good while at a new art installation downtown. It's called "Out of the Woodwork," and was made by artist Patrick Dougherty. We had the best kind of fun--freeze tag, hide and seek, playing castle, and just moving in and out of the space looking and thinking and being. To me, it felt like being in a birds' nest--cozy and curvy, warm-smelling and sky-lit.
We wandered back home a touch past the too-tired point, two hours total of hiking. There was some whining and kvetching. It was OK. We've had far too little of this kind of time together lately, and we're all getting back used to it.
It's hard to believe that we're only a month away from our year-mark living in Arkansas. We are past the crush phase, which is maybe what the Honey House Kindgarden featured, and are settling into the relationship we have with our new home. It's a different thing.