Boys at home

We've been to the park today. We've played in the yard. We've watched a couple episodes of Magic School Bus.

It's just after 11:30 in the morning.

I'm hoping to get the pool out this afternoon. Ah, the full days of summer are upon us.

When I was young, summer days were spent by the river, after a morning in the garden. My Dad loved to till the garden, but then all the work was left to us- the planting, watering, weeding, picking, etc. My mom did a good job of making the work part fun. My Dad had a knack for extolling the virtues of something, doing the fun part of it, then expecting the work to be done by somebody else.

Sometime it left everybody feeling like the Little Red Hen. Only you weren't the one who found the seed; Dad handed it to you and said, "Let me know when the bread's out of the oven."

Sometimes he didn't even want the fun part. He'd get all grumpy because there was fun to be had, or refuse to do the fun because it wasn't his idea. I assure you that there is little more annoying than to be trying to have fun and have some grumpy person scowling at you the whole time, or suggesting something fun, only to be told off. How dare we think of something fun?

So a lot of summer days were spent in the woods. Wading in the river, lying on the moss, these places were safe to have fun of your own invention. And not a weed in sight.