April 27

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Home. In the exceptional chill of a St. Louis April morning. Always unpredictable in the weather. Collette sort of liked it that way.

OLeif did not have to leave until quarter till eight, which was nice. Collette was able to sleep in a little later and attempt to pull the scratchy cold from her throat and head, which was a little successful.

She could hear Puck in the other room telling OLeif that he was ‘gonna go find something for Baby Hesed’ amongst his earthly possessions.

Then to breakfast. Puck watched, fascinated, as a cloud of cold rolled out of the bag of frozen blueberries as Collette poured them on top of his oatmeal.

“That’s blueberry smoke, Mama,” he said importantly.

As he plunged a spoon into the bowl, Collette pointed out the window where a cat, which looked very much like Snuggles, walked across the patio.

“He can’t be there, Mama,” said Puck. “In our garden! Where’s he going?”

“Maybe to the woods for his breakfast.”

“We gotta go find dat mama cat in dah woods,” said Puck. “When we go to dah library.”

The wind was up for their walk that morning.

“It’s in my eyes, Mama!” Puck said loudly.

But he liked their now-weekly walks to the library.

When they arrived, he once again told the librarian behind the counter that he was going to get more books. And he marched back to the children’s corner to watch the other little ones who arrived for story hour, and to read through a small slew of Eric Carle books.

The afternoon was for playing outside in the balmy half-sun weather, rolling with a gorgeous flock of clouds, a jog, and Puck’s bath. This also included games of hide-and-seek in the front yard, which Puck had not yet mastered. Collette would count, and Puck would run off and stand in perfectly plain view of his mama. He would giggle just as loud when, after pretending not to see him for a few moments, she exclaimed, ‘Found you!’ and he would run over to give her a hug.

Then the evening, for fish tacos and John Piper sermons while OLeif was at the old high-ceiling-ed, poured-concrete-countertops house of his work buddy for their weekly guys’ meeting.