It’s been difficult to write much this summer and the truth is, I haven’t really felt like writing. I’ve let funny moments go undocumented, just because. In some ways, I’ve felt like I needed some space this summer.
Moods are such curious things.
My kids are out at a hunter safety class tonight. Their father is making sure they know how to stock our freezer. In the meantime, all is silent on the Fringe.
My son worried that I would be bored. I promised him I would find something to do. I may just sit in silence for an hour. There’s been little of that in my house lately.
There are children everywhere. Sometimes I think they multiply as they dart from room to room. Today I was pulling things together for lunch and my son said, “It’s hard to feed this many kids, isn’t it?”
“No. It’s not. I just didn’t realize how many kids were in this house until now.”
And when they aren’t around in person, they are here on little screens that walk around my house.
Blasted video everything!
These kids like to see each other when they talk. Some days I just want to lounge in a messy house and wear crazy hair and not get dressed, but then I remember, if they don’t come in person, they come via camera and cameras don’t lie.
I was in the kitchen starting dinner a few days ago and there was a knock on the door. My door gets knocked on every single day, usually multiple times a day, so I’ve come to know certain knocks. People have a sound and they also tend to come around at certain times.
It’s like the noises houses make. I always know whether it’s our old refrigerator making the noise or the creaky porch, except in the middle of the night. Then every noise is a masked villain. Or worse. No question about it.
This time I didn’t quite recognize the knock. I wiped my hands in a towel and headed to the door. I opened it to find three boys dressed in camouflage, their faces painted too many shades of green. They held weapons.
“Ready for war boys?”
They smirked sheepishly and lowered the weapons, these kids so serious about their play.
Maybe in other places groups of children overtaking neighborhoods with war paint and camo would be out of place, but not here. Summer days make no demands for political correctness and my son joins the ranks of the junior warriors.
It’s summer and the sky is blue. All is very good, whether or not I blog about it.
Do you live in a neighborhood where kids come and bang on your door all summer or is your area a little more formal with scheduled play-dates?