Notes

Tuesday
Playground in the dark, sliding, swinging under a moon alternately shrouded and peeking between the clouds. Cooling air, accented by wood smoke and dry leaves. On the way home, we raced.

Friday
"Cars and Trucks and Things That Go" has 70 pages. I think Isaiah has it memorized. He just recited 50+ pages to us (he occasionally flipped past a few).

Saturday
Eight pumpkins carved. Lots of snacks consumed. But the best part of the day was socializing and watching the kids running around.

Sunday
The problem with Stellaluna? The new favored form of transport around our house is upside down.

Clear, babbling stream on an overcast fall day. A couple of brilliant leaves peek back at us from the bottom. So do the acorns that hit the surface with a pleasant plunk and then sank when we tossed them by ones and twos.

At play

Isaiah is now cruising up this playground structure in the park across the street from the house en route to the twisty slide, which he really likes. He also fell out of the adult swing the other night, but recovered quickly.

Near the playground is a small rise with rocks poking through the grass, and he likes to scramble up there. The other night as we walked down from the rocks, we stepped onto cedar stumps just down the hill.

"Stumps," I said.

"Rocks," Isaiah said.

"Stumps," I said. "Stump speech."

"Do it again," Isaiah said.

"Stump speech," said, and then proceeded to provide an example.

"Do it again," Isaiah said.

Is it wrong to be highly amused by my own attempts to embed history and linguistic roots into his brain?

Remember a summer night, air flying past your face as you swooped back and forth, leaning back to look at the sky, hoping to go higher? Having a kid transports me back to so many memories of childhood.