Welcome to Chickadee Junction

Welcome to Chickadee Junction

I have birdfeeders outside of my office window. My office is in my home, up on a hill, surrounded by trees. The most frequent avian visitors are the chickadees. When the feeders are empty, they come to the window and let me know. They seem to converge here, and draw my attention out...

I wrote a column about life with children for six years. Now I am the grandmother, and I would like to repost those stories. I will also be adding thoughts and reflections, and if inspired - stories from the now.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

More from October

Rain!  It finally rained.  And the garden soaked up as much moisture as it could.  The creek is running again.  But most importantly, the puddles are full.  We have three good sized puddles in the driveway, to which our shock absorbers can attest.  They are known as Lake Muddy, Lake Muddier and our all-time favorite, Lake Muddiest.

The two youngest members of the Swedish Mafia love to spend hours at Resort Lake Muddiest.  They experiment with mud textures...the drier it is, the more likely to keep its shape...mud balls being a favorite shape.  Mud balls bounce, almost, off your brother.  But beware, that is the best way to get Mom involved, then Resort L.M. is off limits until she gets busy elsewhere.

The boys don't go outside with the direct intention of visiting these muddy shores.  Something in the water lures them.  They can be halfway across the yard when a stone will ripple the placid surface, or a butterfly will land there, or someone will walk by, or...

Approaches vary by mood.  There's the march right through, splashing as much as possible method.  An almost necessary option is to stop in the middle and feel the ooze between toes.  There is the nonchalant, stroll by and poke around with a stick with more and more interest approach.  Or when bored on a hot summer afternoon, a child will sit next to the puddle, and inch by inch the water woos until the fabric is wicking muddy water higher and higher.

One kid in the puddle means all kids in the puddle.  And no matter what the approach, the end result is a bunch of scary looking creatures traipsing splat-monster footprints across the kitchen floor.  It means a mud encrusted tub, a hamper full of disgusting laundry, and every towel in the house grayly decorating the bathroom floor.  And a Mom who is wondering,  "Who are these cruddy imps?  They can't be mine!"

Mima's Notes:
When I recopy these columns, hand typing into this blog, for just a moment the kids are young and the house is in a flurry once more.  I loved the chaos of having lots of kids in my house.  Now, when the floor is muddy, it's because it's April, it's mud season again, and the dogs have been in and out.  And in.  Then out.

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