Let me begin by saying that Thursday was a perfectly horrid day. I wasn't in sync with the rest of the world. Nothing went right. It was with relief that I woke up Saturday with that feeling that things had balanced again, that my slate was clean.
Poor Jack. His day wasn't as smooth. One of the things that makes him crazy is having people at the lake. His dad has given lots of people permission to use the lake, which isn't that bad except that sometimes they don't behave courteously. Over the past few weeks, we have been woken at dawn by duck hunters, teens from down the road who aren't good about picking up their debris. Yesterday, the hunters were back. They started off badly by killing a goose and leaving it in the center of the ice. Of course, their excuse was that they couldn't get it. Of course not. The lake was frozen over and they had neither boat nor dog. Bell and I sang loudly every time we were outside, hoping to ruin their experience, but they didn't take the hint. When Jack found the cormorant they killed, he sent them packing. But the whole thing had him agitated. And that cormorant? My lovely Huxley brought it to the house for me. It smells just heavenly, all fishy and such, and is now frozen in the snow outside the back door.
We cleaned up our filthy selves. Bell and I had been trekking in the woods all afternoon and poking holes in the iced over lake. She looked like she had been rolled down the hill a time or two. Jack had been burning brush and driving the tractor. Mmmm. Diesel and smoke.
The day hadn't been bad, even with the hunters, but it finished on a sweet note. We gathered at Misti's to see Talaura and Cindy while they were in. There were new people to meet who turned out to be the right kind of funny. It was so good to reconnect with old friends. We took Bell, who was a bit high maintenance, but she settled down . . . eventually. She took a lot of pictures, though I am not sure she caught any of us at our best, except Kikimama and the snowman under the tree. Mostly, it was good food, good people, and good laughter. I don't people to worry too much about censoring themselves around the kid. I can live with her knowing a colorful vocabulary if it means also getting to draw from the riches of these people. I want Bell to learn to be with these people without being hyper, to learn to appreciate their humor and soak in their wit and wisdom. These are the sort of people we connect with, the sort that she needs to know, who can show her different ways of thinking, how it's okay to be strong and independent but also how to be connected.
It was a cold drive home, Jack seems to have picked up some crud along the way, and we are tired this morning, but we are pretty content this morning. I will leave my poor sick husband at home and Bell and I will finally venture down to my folks. I think we are even going to try for the Chickasha lights since we laughed too long last night.
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