This week, I'm trying again. But, I'm going to do something I rarely ever do, and depart from the established format. (yes, yes, that was an attempt at sarcasm.)
So, in no particular order, here were the things I liked about this week.
Conversation with Toa of Boy
Toa: Where we going, Mommy?
Me: To the store.
Toa: How many stores we going to?
Me: Just one. We're just going to Meijer today.
Toa: Mommy, Mommy, we have noodles for chicken alfredo tonight?
Me: No, but we're going to get some at Meijer.
Toa: Meijer has noodles?!?! Crazy!
Forms by Sweetling
There is no Tae Kwon Do this week, because Master Watson is in Florida with the tournament team, which is competing in nationals. Sweetling decided she would practice her highest form some during the off week. We have no place in our house big enough, so she went out to the driveway to practice. I kept an eye on her through the kitchen window. There was Sweetling, running through a complex martial arts form, and there was her Webkinz of the day, carefully seated on the landscaping bricks so that he could watch.
We went to the Gorge Trail in Sharon Woods park. It was a beautiful day, with a high in the low 70s. The trail is a 1.4 mile round trip. The trail sign claimed it would take about 35 minutes to walk. The trail sign was not written with inquisitive children in mind.
Nearly 45 minutes later, we had reached the halfway point. Not because the walk was that long, but because we had done a lot of exploring and looking and discussing along the way. The trail had started at the small dam on Sharon Lake and it followed the gorge and the stream flowing from the lake. At the far end of the trail, the stream let out into another small lake or large pond. We stood there, looking at where the quickly moving stream fed into the still, almost brackish pond waters. The transition seemed to abrupt to be real.
"Hey Sweetling," says I. "That looks like a little island down there."
"Is it an island or a pennisula?" asks Sweetling.
"I don't know. We'd have to go down there to investigate."
Now, at this point, I should point out that before we went on the trail, I had stressed the importance of staying on the marked trail. And we had done so. All of our exploring and investigating had been done while on the marked trail.
"You know," I add, "visiting a deserted island is in your 101 Places You Gotta See book."
"Let's see if we can find a way down there," I suggest.
We stashed our water bottles at the top of the steep slope, concealing them behind a tree, and began scrambling down. Toa of Boy, of course, was the first to descend. He accomplished this in large part by sitting on his bottom and mostly sliding down. Upon reaching the bottom, he seemed disappointed that the ride was over, cause I caught him scrambling partly back up the slope to repeat the experience. Sweetling reached the bottom shortly after he did, and Mommy was the last down. Pictures were taken before we ducked under the low hanging branches to begin our stream crossing.
"Don't get wet," I cautioned as Sweetling began leading the way from stepping stone to stepping stone. I repeated this phrase many times. Eventually I changed it to, "Don't get drenched." Because, inevitably, feet slipped off the stepping stones to splash into the stream.
("If you are going to be explorers," said Sweetling, "then sometimes you have to take a little risk.")
We discovered that the little island was a true island when the waters were a little higher, and an "almost" island when the stream ran a little lower. Sweetling promptly named it "Pig Island" from the Sandra Boynton song. I argued for Squirrel Island, because I thought it should be named after the inhabitant that came to greet us. We debated Squig Island and Pigrel Island as compromises, but it remained Pig Island.
A return trip is being planned for the fall, when we can make and bring a Pig Island sign and Sweetling can give a speech as part of an official naming ceremony. We're debating whether or not Pig Island would be a good location to build fairy houses.