We’re doing a series of summer sessions, growing a new homeschool community, and it’s been fun to see the kids interact in groups again. Wow, is it mayhem! Just general excitement to see their friends again each week and explore new topics.
A Kansas/Missouri visit in the full of summer makes for tired, sweaty people. We haven’t done this for two years, however, and so we entered into our travels with enthusiasm. After all, it was Grandma Carole’s 75th birthday!
I don’t know if it’s simply reactive, a post-Covid leaving of the space we were forced to inhabit for a year, but we’ve been far busier than expected this particular year.
I tuck myself away in my room to read a book, braking for interruptions. I wake early and drink tea over my journal, writing away frustrations so they don’t cross over into resentment. I walk each morning to move my body, my brain into calmer space.
I’ve read every word Bardugo’s set into print and will continue to follow the Grisha as long as she’s writing them. So much care goes into each character’s formation, a full rotation of physicality and emotions, and yet the story arc doesn’t slow.
It’s summah! Park, swim, eat, play, pet, visit, catch – go go go!
A week away, breathing and swimming in the mountain air, with our a 500-square-foot rustic cabin to hide in from the hail equals some pretty zen kids and parents.
And so, despite knowing better, I pushed. Also: I yelled. Their resolve firmed tremendously. They listened to separate books in separate rooms, unified in ignoring me, but separately unhappy. They did not feel safe coming to our shared space, where I waited to badger them.
As the sun crisps the grass in our front yard and we retreat, yet again, to the table, I’m still thinking about all those hours sprawled outside. If you haven’t tried it, hammock reading improves even the least inspiring book. Try the good ones first, please.