Wild Wednesday

 (Aside: I so remember this oldest sibling feeling, of wanting your little brother to behave in the family pictures!)

The buttercups are out in full force.  Rain was threatening to fall, and I drove the car down into the cow field so we could get to our beloved creek and tadpoles quickly.  H wanted to lead the way, walking ahead of me and G on the cow paths.  The grass is growing tall past "cow creek", and all the little thick green grasses are filling in on the banks of the creek.  The tadpoles are everywhere, crowding the shallows, not just in still puddles, but in the transitional edges of the creek itself.  H and G spent a long time talking to the tadpoles, who are still very small and black, trying to touch them as they wiggled away (to G's giggling pleasure), and bringing them "special rocks".  G reminded us to say bye bye when it was time to leave.

On the way back up the hill, H wanted to look for bones on the other side of the cows' stream.  I had to pass him across the stream because it was running a little deep, over the tops of his boots.  We found a couple of cow femurs with black and brown slugs hiding on the bottoms, close to the ground.  (Every day since then he's been singing this song, but replacing the lyrics in the refrain with "sluugs and bones, slu-ugs and bones, slu-ugs have houses called bones".  Hee.)  I love Wednesdays.

Friday

Friday was farm day this week, as the boys were too sick to go on Wednesday. There were record-high 85 degree temperatures yesterday, so we had to stop on the way out for sunscreen. Next week there will be a knapsack for water in addition to the baby carrier, which did well in a pinch to hold sunscreen, cell phone and discarded sunglasses.

We walked over the dam and up the hill and went down the path past the old dairy barn into the woods. Wildflowers were everywhere. Several different kinds of violets, including one that was the palest lavender with a hot pink stamen for each of the five melon-shaped petals. Also buttercups and dandelions (usually I write about buttercups in May!), but the jack-in-the-pulpit hasn't yet bloomed. (I think I also need to bring my camera in the knapsack, although I'm worried I won't be as in the moment if I do...)

Down through the woods and over two little brooks and through to the banks of the Goose. That sweet baby grass is popping up all over, and when we emerged from the woods there were two mama cows and their calves nibbling near the path by the first pole vertical jump. G was delighted, clapping his hands (a relatively new trick) in the carrier and pointing with glee, "Caaa, caaah!" (H: "Yes, Georgie, cows! You're right Georgie!")

We walked down the bank (H all by himself) and out on to the sandbar and H used his walking stick to be an elephant, splashing us with his trunk. He had asked to shed his pants on the walk up the hill so he was free and happy in his underwear and muck boots. G was a little more hesitant, but couldn't resist getting in on the act when H started throwing rocks into the creek. Ker-plunk! I turned around and looked back and both boys were sitting in the creek, March or not.

It was hot walking back through the field to the house. You can see from the photos that G was not so happy about the heat, nor about being required to wear his hat. Picnic on the porch and then the added treat of meeting our new 8-day-old cousin William (-with-more-hair-than-George). Boys slept all the way home. Such a nice farm day.

Wild Wednesday

I used to write here about my foxhunting adventures, but now, with my horse gone and the two little ones, there's not any foxhunting going on. But there is still country time. Every Wednesday, we pack up and head out and spend a couple of hours meandering, rain or shine, usually along the old trails where I used to ride (and where H reminds me, we will ride again). I'd like to document some of our trips because they are just so magical.

Yesterday we walked the happy hack, and H pretended to be a "putt-a putt-a Jeep" for most of the walk up the hill. We walked through the old dairy barn and then he was a cow, interested in all the old farm equipment we passed, balers and rakes overcome with weeds and Russian olive. G alternated between sucking his thumb, leaning against me in the carrier and pointing at vultures and hawks, throwing his head back and laughing at our good fortune to be alive.

Joan, a whip from Loudoun West, came through as we were going down the back side to the creek. We heard the horn and hound voices and one hound came to visit us at the creek before heading back to the pack, which we saw waaay on the other side of the farm while we were on top of the mountain. The cows had heard the horn, too, and they all gathered around the creek just where we had to cross. This was probably G's favorite part, walking through those cows and squealing at the babies running back to the others.

When we got to the creek, H wanted to go "waiting" and so we all did, up to the tops of our boots. G wore his new rain boots and was so excited to stomp his feet around. H fell in and cried, but then the moment he was safely on the bank, he wanted to go wading again, "just a lil bit more, Mama". On the way back to the gate, H found two big feathers near the burn pile and then he was a bird, with the wind in his feathers. He told me the wind would help him fly. So sweet.

This entry is really just for me, to help me remember these days, and of course I've left out the minor squabbles that happened along the way. I may end up password protecting these entries in the future, since I doubt they're interesting to anyone but me and maybe close family. On to Thursday.