October Green

273 :: Wooded

Bringing in the house plants that spent the summer outside; wondering at how much they’ve grown; getting soil all over the kitchen table and floor and counter . . .

271 :: Succulent

274 :: October Poetry

274 :: Maybe the Last Bouquet?

The greenhouse seed babies are thriving and this little man has been busy making a mud pit full of “hot cocoa” just outside the door. I’m thinning and he’s brewing; so come on over for some cool microgreens and warm drinks! I love gardening in this giant terrarium on the cusp of autumn. It’s such a paradox to watch new life burst forth as everything else outside slows down and lets go.

272 :: Back to Work in the Greenhouse

276 :: Mud Land

Cousin Time

254 :: Cousins

These two cousins have been spending lots of time together!

261 :: Clay Play

261 :: Reading with Susie

One moment they might be best buddies and the next moment they might be rolling around, tugging on one another like two little puppies . . . !

266 :: Cousin Buddies

While the Girls are at School

253 :: Back To Work

You may be wondering if Wallace is very sad and misses his girls terribly when they are at school. After two years of homeschooling, it is certainly a change to have them gone during the school day. And, yes, he does miss them. A lot. He asks about them when they are gone and he likes me to tell stories about them. But, he certainly keeps busy! And he keeps me busy. And he keeps Jeffrey busy. And he deconstructs many things around the house whenever I try to “get something done.” But it is a joy to have so much time one-on-one with Wallace; I feel like I’m getting to know him differently without his sisters. And, oh boy, is he excited when the time comes to pick them up every afternoon!

250 :: While the Girls Were at School

250 :: The Mess

263 :: Little Man Painting

264 :: Pillow Pile

269 :: Drawer Boy

262 :: Greenhouse with Bugs

255 :: Mirror

Summer Blond

253 :: Just Up

Just after his nap
in that September afternoon light
illuminated.

Do you see
how the sun
has turned his hair golden?
I do not want to cut those glorious locks.
I want them to travel with us
into autumn.

The smell of summer
on his head.

The light of golden love
remembered.