|Newly unearthed bricks basking in the warmth of the long-hidden sun.|
Adelaide recently came home with a stick that her school optimistically called a White Oak tree. While I was out back digging a hole for the white oak stick, about ten inches down I began to unearth bricks. I fished three out of the small hole required for the stick, but hit more around the perimeter of the hole. I thought about widening my search to see how many I could find, but figured Derek would frown upon arriving home to find half the backyard being excavated for the sake of old bricks.
Why, Suspicious Previous Owners? Why all the buried nails and bricks and faux dead bodies? Someone please explain this to me.
- Derek and I made a whirlwind trip to Milwaukee a couple weeks ago so he could accept a few awards he won for his work.
This is my favorite of the pictures I took while Derek was giving his "Thanks for reinforcing the fact that I'm amazing" speech. I like the way the Master of Ceremonies behind him there is gazing adoringly at my husband. It's like he's been taking lessons from Atticus and Caedmon.
- There have been more soccer games:
Derek showing Atticus how to... throw the ball back into the game... probably?
Atticus with the ball, there, doing something fancy. Pretty sure it involved kicking of some sort. (Three games in and I am a veritable soccer savant, friends.)
Atticus is on the left, there, turning on a dime to run toward the ball. Do anyone else's knees kill just looking at this?
It's very strange to watch one of my offspring play a sport with such enthusiasm. And- hey, sisters of mine, get this: When there's a gaggle of children fighting and kicking at the ball, Atticus enters the fray with gusto. And when a ball comes flying at him at indecent and possibly harmful speeds, he runs toward it. There is no screeching, no ducking, no closing of the eyes. How are we even related to this kid?