ramble

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“The day was beautiful and the way was beautiful.”
Anne of the Island, L.M. Montgomery

***

Late this morning I took little Sarah on a short walk through the woods and into the field, wandering about, going exactly where we wanted to go.  Underneath our feet were brown pine needles and crispy leaves.  The sun was shining.  Everything was bright, fresh, and lovely.  We ate a few wintergreen berries and Sarah talked about nothing and everything while I dutifully listened and took snapshots.

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These three mushrooms were growing up from behind tree bark; bark which was hanging off an old fallen down log.

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Thanks to Aunt Colleen’s inspiration, I am taking up crochet again.  I recently made Jacob a pillow and am almost done with a red and black striped one for David.  As I admired this tree lichen I dreamed of finding yarn in the same creamy mint color and crocheting a doily.

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I asked Sarah if I could put her in a tree and she generously agreed.

We had found a turkey feather.

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She ran ahead of me into the field and saw a man walking his dog.  I had to laugh as I wondered what he must have thought to see a tiny girl emerging from the forest, talking and laughing.  He told us that he walked there all the time and his dog, Bruno, used to be a bird dog.  Bruno caught 101 birds but is now retired because he’s old and his hips are bad.  Regardless, Bruno was having a great time wobbling around on his loose hips while his owner drank coffee from a plastic mug in one hand and carried a walking stick in the other.

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I tucked purple wild flowers and rose hips into Sarah’s ponytails.

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She was so pleased with her turkey feather.  In fact, as soon as her Dad came home from work she showed it to him.  He said it was the nicest he’s ever seen.

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While Sarah climbed a boulder, I admired a wavy, curly tree fungus.  There were different sizes growing and I pulled a small one off.  It was rubbery and strong, I could not tear it in half no matter how hard I tried.

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We made our way back home by going down the trail a little ways and then through the woods to cross our stream onto our own property.  On our way across, we saw a dear dear friend.  I took pictures of Sarah’s face as she cooed motherly greetings at him……..

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It was Billy-cat, coming to say hello to us.

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After our walk I made Sarah eat ALL of her cheese sandwich including the crust, and then I gave her a chocolate pudding cup for dessert.  She had a nice nap, and so did I.

****

We breathe below, but we live above; we walk on earth, but our conversation is in heaven.   John Flavel

 

you are loved

caleb-catcher

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I see a Caleb.

In just a few short baseball seasons, he went from Caleb the Clueless, to Caleb the Catcher.  He’s turned into a legitimate little leaguer!

In general, I’ve gotten over taking photos at ball games, because moments at the fields are as common place now as loading the dishwasher.  However, something possessed me to take the camera on Monday, and I got these great shots of Caleb the Catcher.

CATCHER!  To me, it seems a scary position to play.  Indeed, I’ve heard errant bats hit my Caleb several times, but he’s always fine (doesn’t seem to faze him at all).  He’s got the gift.

There is this other kid on the team who wants to be catcher, too, and Caleb doesn’t say a word.  He just goes out to right field and waits until the next “at field”, when the other kid all too predictably relinquishes the position back to Caleb………….

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Here is Caleb, coming in to home plate.  Have I mentioned, he’s a good hitter, too?  His technique is to smash hit the first pitch that comes in (and I usually miss  it, he’s that quick).  He has a job to do for the team and he’s gonna do it, by golly.

He got the run in and now he stands in the dugout and shouts words of encouragement to his team mates (he really does!, he’s an awesome boy, sweet, sweet, sweet).

Then, after the three outs, he comes out and lets his attendants dress him in the catcher’s costume (it’s so cool–is that why he likes to be catcher?)

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He isn’t impressed at all by what’s happening to his legs (coach is fussing and buckling him into the pads), he keeps an eye on the competition.

 

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To me, the funniest thing about the process is the way he keeps reaching and leaning to get the rest of his pads as the coach continues to deal with the legs.

 

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You can almost hear the coaches thoughts, “will the kid hold still already?!?”

 

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He’s putting on the face mask.

 

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While yet another coach deals with the everlasting leg pads.

 

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You can almost hear Caleb’s thoughts, “will they be done before Christmas?!?!”

 

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Coach gives him a hit on the top of the helmet and off he goes.

 

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He realizes Moms got the camera on him.

 

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So he gets into the classic caleb-catcher pose.

Caleb wants you to know they won and are currently in 2nd place.  There is another game tonight!

*****

I have some more news about Caleb.  In all his rough and tumble adventures in life, this boy’s legs (in spite of all the protection during ball games) are covered in scrub marks, scratches, small cuts, bug bites, and bruises.  And now, because of me, he has a burn across his beautiful FACE.  First his legs, now his face (his comment).  I swear, I was all alone in the kitchen when I took dinner out of the top oven last night.  As soon as I turned around to put it on the island behind me, he was there.

 

 

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He looks like a boy that got whipped in the face with a 350 degree casserole.