funny day. a lot of rushing. late coffee. supposed to be 6 degrees, but feels colder. wet.
the bottom of my too-long pants get dirty and soaked. I feel like a teenager with messy cords on.
still, big smiles, lots of giggles.
My kids wake up, get dressed, make their beds and head downstairs for breakfast before I have pulled my sorry rump out of bed.
They prepared schedules the night before.
From 715 until 230, they are booked.
I need to go grocery shopping. I am told, as they head downstairs, that if I plan to make their lunches, I need to be back by 1130.
It’s some weird Freaky Tuesday.
I get out of bed.
Tuesdays are lunches at home. I wait for my son.
Moments before the bell rings, the yard is silent. His portable waits to empty of children.
He used to race out to the car, a big smile on his face. Now that he brings a friend home, he and the friend walk slowly, discuss things (wallball? a recent test? girls? SpongeBob?) as they find their way slowly to my car.
Already, this picture dates itself – taken a few weeks back, those red leaves are gone, the trees are bare. Sandy took care of that.
The kids in the morning as I stand with a sweater pulled around me, yawning. This year has been a different start for all of us. A walk to a bus stop with a friend for my daughter. A bike ride or scooter glide to school with buddies for my son.
And me on my own, making my way back home to an office and a cat, after I watch both kids disappear around the corner. If they were to look back and see, I think they’d think: Why is she still standing there? But they don’t look back.
The Terry Fox runs comes and goes. Remnants of the kids’ participation remains tacked onto our fridge.
My daughter must remind me that her schoolyard is twice the size of the park at which her brother ran.
“That’s why I have fewer punch holes.”
No need. Whatever they have run, it is in the memory of a man they remember with sadness and respect both. However many laps, they have done it to fight against something that takes away to many from us.
I like the Groundwater Festival. Went first with my daughter, then this fall with my son.
When I went the first time, I saw no salmon. This time, I was stunned. Huge fish swimming up stream. Some lay dead on the shores (they die after they spawn).
The kids in my group found nothing with their sieves (my son found a rock and a twig) but it was worth it watching the salmon.
That and Chief Topleaf and sunny skies and the kids, the helpful map of a friend all made it a great day. My last Groundwater Festival.