Deconstruction Zone

Handy Man was happy to also be the Tool Guy at work this week.  He'd grown weary of inventory.  I guess if you are the Toolmaker, it will be beneficial to know where every last thing in the building is located.
Finally, of his own accord, he kept that old water heater without me asking him, so the kids could take it apart. It was a big hit.  I sent Bean out to photograph the damage.  I was not quite ready to abandon the hot bread and just made pesto.

 Reached the point of having to have some help from Pap.

 Nothing, no matter how exciting, trumps the creek.  Off we went.

This right here is what makes my heart sing.  She brought a couple of tools with her, found this piece of creek debris and informed me it was her workshop, but she was willing to trade her work for creek treasures.  Later they were trading for entertainment that looked like old slapstick routines. I sadly did not get a picture of that. And, thankfully, no one got a picture of me falling off a rock I was trying to rest my laurels on. I slipped off, right into the creek.  Do you know that is the closest I've every come, praise be, to falling in the creek.  Don't think I  damaged anything too severely. 

 Speaking of deconstructing- their joy, shale and a hammer.

 Speaking of treasures, look at these beauties.  I remain endlessly fascinated by these brachiopods and other sea life fossils right in my very own creek.

I spent almost an hour with my second graders in the creek on Friday. We have caves and fairy houses coming right along.  I had to send their creek shirts home to be washed, they were so muddy.

Doing my part for outside movement, creative play, and fun!

I always worry about being another person creating a life with all the highs and none of the lows on social media.  I am my mother's child and I do delight in feeding my people, sitting on the couch and adding the notes I know on my ukulele while I sing with Rae, or whoever is playing, and I get just as big a thrill out of unearthing creek treasures as the next kid. 

But the truth is, there are other times.

 Times that don't even make sense to me.  Times, like the funk I've been in for a few days, when recent and past ICU moments come in like a flood and nearly knock me down. Times like shopping at Hobby Lobby Saturday and remembering how fun it was to do Mom's birthday, just one year ago.  I remember and I cry all the way home.  Times when I despair of every being able to teach a child to read and I can't shake it, no matter how fun I make learning, that I can't make the education system work for this little one. Times that I feel everyone of the sixty years I'm about to be and then some. 

 I absolutely do stop and smell the roses, but I also prick my fingers and it hurts.  

So while what I put here is my joy and very real, it just isn't all there is in this life. Just sayin'.