Ainsley and Eliza were reclaimed by the wilderness after 2 weeks of Primitive Pursuits camp.
Faces painted for preseason.
Sam dressed up but couldn't stay awake for the game.
Before the girls left on Saturday they helped me set up and staff the neighborhood garage sale.
They dressed Fiona in a Superman costume, made sure she didn't wander into the road, and ensured she didn't leave with a stranger.
Thanks, guys.
Looking forlorn after the Big Girls headed home.
"I'll go for a bike ride with Mahmoud but I don't have to like it."
("Mahmoud" is also the name of Pop's belly, by the way. Her pronunciation is excellent.)
We all cheered up with an Upper Buttermilk hike.
A few weeks ago Fiona face planted onto a gravel path and one of her upper front teeth shoved out of place. By the next morning it had migrated to its home position and wasn't wiggly. She had a bit of gum inflammation but that passed and she's been eating crunchy things without complaint. Slowly, though, it has turned dusky. As a woman whose front teeth were knocked out 11 (?) times before age 22 I am confronting my Achilles Heel of squeamishness. Elliott has helped me reframe this oral trauma as the acquisition of power, training Fiona to call out, "By the power of my grey tooth..." and then cast an emphatic spell. For a full hour of hiking she left her magic mark on trees and roots and vines. Be careful if you go for a walk up by Treman Lake; I'm not sure what she said.
A visit yesterday with Sam's other big sisters.
"Do you have any more of that milk?"
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