Not much My leg and foot are serviceable,
but I'm still in that stocking and may be
forever, and have swelling and soreness
by end of day, and must sit down.
Opened the cabin on Memorial day,
returned last weekend with Julia and her family –
had two lovely days with the boys –
made pancakes with Mason,
pushed Reuben on the tree swing til he kicked the trees, and
made up a car song for Jonah (he said his first two sentences this weekend),
planned, shopped and served 6 meals;
played Candy land,
put the old wooden dock in the water (assemble, then haul)..
read a fabulous poem by Galway Kinnell ("Burning the Brush Pile" in this last New Yorker) and read it aloud to my landlord, the fiddler, who, being a country boy, had done the same thing many times, and remarked on inaccuracies in the poem.
Witnessed the marital tensions between Julia and Stuart,
withstood the storms of anger that happened when the middle boy was thwarted;
withstood the continual demands for attention from the oldest boy;
withstood the battles over food, etc.
Loved those days with them.