Monday, July 9, 2012


Our days have been skeins of colorful yarns, beaded and knotted and purled, with small and large moments of shine and display, and the great rolls of them wind round this house like grapevine on the hills.   We played and danced and ate and sang, we drew and colored and wrote and danced some more, running through the cold sprinkler on these oven days with shrieks and giggles, with music a heartbeat of the fun, and the background notes echoing always---the important stories of teenage Disney channel, with the bright-dressed, ever-lipsticked girls in floofed hair and impossible shoes and the vibrant young fellows with the energy and innocent preposterone of battling fawns.

Never-muted, the Mobius strip television and its tricked-out sets and its fashion-plate characters repeated the same angst and lame humor, with no obvious segue into the commercials, save for a perceptible upswing in the decibels and even-brighter voices hawking other shows, other STUFF.

Breakfasts were of the five-minutes-after arising sort, with a burst of cereal boxes and fruit and milk jugs and toast magically flitting onto the table as places were taken, the blessing said.  I don’t think I’ve buttered this much bread in a week in all my life, for toast was a principal character in the array, and Lucky Charms spilled out of boxes and into the red bowls with astonishing speed, rattling down, being splooshed with milk, then almost immediate seconds spattered into the leftover milk in the bowl.

Our Cal likes a simple life---apples, toast, and sometimes a blob of peanut butter.   And he, like Sweetpea, is fond of gathering up all the silverware for himself.

Strawberries were an ever-present punctuation, with their bright red shine and green topknot---sugar in the big berry bowl and the can of Redi-Wip hissing out poufy clouds onto plates, onto toast, into mouths.

Kit was quite an architect of breakfast, building elaborate displays of fruit, dip, sugar, and cream, and lingered over her building as she positioned a berry, munched another, dipped a third.  

 She ringed the berries with a fleet of dark cherries, spooned on sugar, topped that with the vanilla-cheese dip, then laid on a nice roof-tile of apple.

THEN there was a second story, capitaled with a great white dome and a cherry--all worthy of a fifties soda-jerk in a white paper hat:

I apologize for the blurry, mis-angled pictures---it’s a wonder there ARE any, considering my sticky fingers and the probability of cream and sugar on the lens.

The centerpiece was courtesy of Kit, from a little leftover milk jug, some of Ganner’s tomato-tying tape, and a trip out to the Rose of Sharon and the daisy bed.   See those tee-ninecy white spots?  That’s whipped cream, shot out of the can by a vigorous hand.   Did you know that if you hold it right, you can shoot a spatter clear onto that wall over yonder? 

Moiré non after some more clean-up.


Chesapeake said...

Precious, precious memories. Thank you for sharing.

Bev said...

I'm tired just reading about your adventures and activities! Rest up dear friend..the cleaning can wait. What great times to have with the grands. Love always.

steelersandstartrek said...

I'm coming to eat at your house. Breakfast today is not so magical - chik-fil-a biscuits and coffee. We are currently living in "contractor hell" as we condense more and more of our lives away from windows, doors, and walls into the center of the house and out of the way of the feet and hammers of the well-cut young men my wife just sits and stares at. I think I may start going shirtless, she seems to like the look.

And yesterday we heard the dreaded words: "There seems to be a leak somewhere behind this wall...." So like Dorothy in Kansas, I am looking for somewhere to run away to.....

Kim Shook said...

My dear, darling LYING husband. Those dear men that are working on our house are neither well cut nor particularly young. Lank rather than lean, given to midriff-bearing tee's (shudder!) - one has a BRAID! But they are bringing new 3-over-1 windows, an easy slide glass door, cafe au lait siding and a Craftsman style front door! So I love them - but they stir NOTHING in me! I'll stick with the Steeler fan, thanks!

racheld said...

And if Dr. Ruth had a show on HGTV . . .