Mamas, LET your babies grow up to be cowboys

Today was the first official day of summer break.
Sleeping in was divine. Of course, sleeping in for me is 7:30 a.m., so that's a bit relative I guess.
I made pancakes for the boys, regular and blueberry, and we took our setting the table and sitting to eat. No hurried bowl of cereal today.
The boys went to work at the house with Joe, and I stayed "home" with Daniel.
The boys and I had a date to keep this afternoon, so they came home and got ready about one o'clock.
Today was horseback riding lessons out at Westbrook with our friend Rachel.
We met Rachel and her husband, Kevin, at church. They are such neat people and after having them over, I could tell it was one of those connections where you know you will be richer for knowing these people.
She works out at a . . ranch, farm. I'm not really sure what to call it.
There are lots of horses and hounds and cows. They put on fox hunts there, among other things.
Josiah has had this thing for horses for some time now, and asked for one for his birthday. Because we are moving to a house that has two acres, he believed this was a feasible request, and fully expected one on his natal anniversary.
We did the next best thing.
Riding lessons.
We explained that first he needs to learn all he can about horses: how to care for them and how to handle them and how to ride them, etc.
Then, in a few years, after he has been around them and knows what to do with them, maybe we will look into getting a horse for him.
So riding lessons began today.
Rachel taught the boys how to lead a horse first.
Then they learned about grooming a horse in preparation for riding him.
After that it was time to pick a saddle. They chose a western one. I think the other choices were English or Australian.
They learned how to saddle a horse, and bridal one.
Then, it was "up in the saddle 101."
The horse they rode was a 15 year old retired race horse named Skyward Bound, or Bounder for short.
Boy, was he big!
Josiah got right up on him, though, and rode him all around the pen. He learned how to turn him and stop him and make him trot.
Then it was Isaac's turn, and he rode like a pro. He even told Rachel he thought he could ride without her holding on, and he did!!
You have not lived until you have seen your young sons up on horseback, trotting into the wind, their hair blowing back, their faces full of smile, their confidence swelling.
It was amazing!
I thought about cowboys.
I thought about the kind of men most of them were: hard-working, honest, loyal men deeply affected by the land they worked and rode. Men who got dirty, but would never think of saying a dirty word in front of a child or a lady. Men who wore out their boots, not their couches. Men who believed in something and fell for nothing.
There are very few cowboys these days.
We go again next week.
Rachel said maybe we could all learn how to ride.
"We could be the horseback riding family!" I laughed.
"That would be so cool." she said.
Yes, it would.

Getting back to normal . . . whatever that is!

It's been raining . . . and raining, and raining.
Yesterday, as we were leaving for school, slogging through the wet grass, Josiah said, "We won't get to go outside today for recess, I can feel it in my gut! I can really feel it" and with that, he tapped his stomach with his clenched fist several times.
Where do they come from?
Daniel will be one in a few weeks. Is that possible? He is climbing stairs like a pro, and even taught himself how to crawl down them backwards. He just has to work on realizing how many stairs there are to go down.

Isaac is ready for school to be out, as are we all, I think. One week to go.
Last week was wacky week, though, so at least it was fun.
Monday was spirit day. The kids had to wear white, black or red shirts to show support to our school.
Tuesday was dress up day. Isaac was a New York Yankee and Josiah was a Knight.

Wednesday was wacky day . . . the wackier the better!
Thursday was pajama day. Everyone walked around in a stupor all day, wanting to take a nap. Good thing we don't wear pjs on a regular basis. Everyone would be tired all the time.

Today was just good old non-uniform day.
Next week is full of fun days and end of the year parties, etc.
Of course, summer break, for us, means settling into the new house, which is still "under construction." Some minor repairs and remodels have turned into some major projects, so we are still waiting it out at mom's and working on the house when we can.
I keep driving to the old house when it is time to "go home." Creature of habit, I guess.
Today was a beautiful day, a respite from the rain and gloominess that can come with it.
The skies were a beautiful blue, the clouds were so white and full and majestic, looming over the landscape, almost touching earth, it seemed. It's like all the rain was a spring cleaning for the sky, and today it gleamed.
Joe worked odd hours today, and the boys and I ate at grandpa's this evening.
The boys took the opportunity to play in the swollen pond. They looked so "Christopher Robin-ish" in their boots.

Gramp is doing well, recovering from the bypass and all the other ordeals.
It is so good to walk into the room where he is sitting in his recliner, to see him there and to hear his voice talking about anything.
A couple of years ago, I wrote the following in a journal, and today, as I passed him in his chair where he was reading the mail, I thought about this passage:

Have you ever been in a moment, and recognized, suddenly, that it is a moment you will remember forever. That it will later, maybe even years later, play back in your mind like a mini movie, and you will see clearly the patchy sunlight falling through the window, across your grandfather, sleeping in his chair. You will smell the early spring. You will see the candle flicker on the dresser. You will again feel the stab of love and sadness at seeing him there, sleeping in the daylight. And you know this, that it will play over again on days when the chair is empty; on days when it will no more hold the napping form of your grandfather.
This happens to me a lot lately. In these moments, time seems to move in slow motion, and there is a certain cognizance that the very moment I am in is becoming an indelible part of who I am. There is a clarity that escapes mere existence in these moments – a sharpness of senses that makes the scene surreal, almost. Dreamlike, except for the fact that I am acutely aware that I am, indeed, awake.
I have come to love these moments, even when they capture unpleasantness, for they make me aware I am alive. I hear the heart beating in my chest. I feel the blood running through my veins, my breathing rings in my ears, and I know, this – this very minute, and every minute like it -- is what it means to be alive.
Spring. Early spring is here, indeed, and we are in it, and I love the way the air smells. Promise. It smells like promise.