Today is July 16, 2012. I'm sitting here in the quiet, gray dusk of an ever so ordinary summer evening. I can feel this season, this time of endless days and weeks home together, slipping away ever so lightly. The cycle continues. My little heart resist just a bit for the uncertainty of what lies ahead.
These weeks have been good. There's been rumbling thunderstorms, slow mornings, the occassional afternoon ice coffee pick me up, bike rides, and swim lessons. As uneventful as it all sounds, it's the kind of eventfulness that I cherish the most.
In lieu of daytime blogging hours, I try to jot down or photograph a bit of this and that through instagram, facebook, and momento. I find myself wanting to record her words, songs, and stories more and more. A new phase in the constant fleetingness of all this, I suppose. And so I might snap a photo with my phone of a moment, but then include a quote of something ridiculously funny, thoughtful, or just cute that she says to help capture the essence of our days. I don't know. I'm trying to develop a habit of letting go when it comes to journaling. To focus more on the now than on what I want to say about the now, the yesterday, the tomorrow, etc.
A little more moderation. A little less pressure.
These photos are from a couple of weeks ago. Beatrix and I took a road trip to Louisiana all by ourselves. It was our first time to make the 8 hour trip there just the two of us. Mother/daughter bonding at its finest, I suppose. While in Louisiana, she and I daytripped to Lafayette, where my brother lives and where I went to college. It's a sweet little town. We spent the morning at Vermillionville, an Acadian living history museum that I had not visited since we moved from the state many years ago. She had a blast going in and out of all of the village buildings and homes. "Oh, this is a lovely home!" She would exclaim over and over at the entrance of each house.
At the sight of some gathered green beans in the outdoor cooking area, she took to shelling them. Just like that. Like it was the most natural task to do. It occupied for a good 15 minutes. She even snuck off with a few red beans in her pocket, "to plant, mom." Love the self-starter in her.
When we visited the chapel, she perched herself at the front of the alter and broke down into her own version of "Alleluia" from The Sound of Music.
I fell in love with this color combination of the schoolhouse and was transported to my childhood at the whiff of a fig tree full of ripe fruit.
It was fun to geek out over the architecture and the rustic furnishings in the buildings.