lost in a sweet dream

June 5, 2006 | Filed Under ordinary 

we’re having difficulty recovering from the weekend mess this morning. it’s too dreamy outside to be in the house with a vacuum.

and yet we are. the kitchen is powdery underfoot because henry and jude spent part of the morning making mountains of flour and crashing cars through the mountains while i worked at bread in the corner.

they like to feel the grains in their fingers, cold, slipping through the cracks and falling back into the bucket, onto the floor. henry likes to pour some of it into the grinder. jude would like to do it, too, i’m sure, but he’s distracted with his cup and the grains and the bucket so i don’t even offer.

we all like the way the flour is warm from the grinder. i’m always impressed by how flour-y the whisper screaming mill actually gets the grain. one would assume that it would be like sand or rocky or something, but it’s not. it’s actually flour. i’ve ground dried beans (black, kidney, garbanzo) in the thing, too, and they, also, are pulverized into flour. i am amazed. henry is amazed. jude is covered in flour.

we spent the weekend at variety parks, watching the boys run crazy. we realized some time ago that life is better when we don’t try to rush around getting things done, especially on the weekends.

i’ve always posessed a strange ability to accomplish much in a day and it’s been difficult for me to adapt to the unseen productivity a mama achieves with small children. we work at it every day, though, and we hope we’re getting better at it.

henry was to get his first haircut on monday when he turned four (!) but the day was busy at the zoo and ended at the zoomphony concert in the park (i was a little surprised at how few people were at the concert. it was free! it was orchestral! it was fantastic! it was also hot and sticky, though not too terrible. . .). the haircut was postponed and has yet to happen. i think that henry thinks it will hurt to have his hair cut, since his hair is attached to his body, and every other place hurts when it is cut, does it not? i’m scared of all the hairs on other heads and on his own head that he’ll think to scissor when he realizes how painless a haircut should be. it’s time, though. he asks for a ponytail and is occasionally and ignorantly mistaken for a girl by blind old men with hideous buzz cuts at the supermarket. soon.

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