Into the hills
Early that morning... sounds of water running in the bathroom sink... Yali is already dressed for church slicking over his hair for (specifically) Sunday School...
About half an hour later Yali and Patience are sitting at the breakfast table with plates of Nutella on toast... Patience is waiting for her BFF's competition results from Dublin (nothing yet)... and learns about the demise of her other BFF's flock of chickens... all fox-eaten in the night...
Meanwhile Yali leaves to grab his toothbrush... walks out scrubbing his teeth... “This toothpaste taste like Sunday School” he says between bubbles... “I don't know why...” // “Do you think maybe it's because you only brush your teeth in the mornings on Sundays?” // He ponders this thoughtfully... returns later for me to examine the whiteness of his results... when there're people to impress, there're people to impress...
It's lunch time back home after church... prep some Danish-style open-faced cheese sandwiches in the oven... Puck takes his plate with a side of sweet peppers from me... “What's this?” // “It's how the Danish like sandwiches” // “I don't like Danish” // “But you are Danish” // He just smiles and flips one slice over on top of the other like an American sandwich...
And then... because eating a lot of cheese and bread before taking a hike in the heat is a really great idea... Yali and I drive out first to Chesterfield to pick up one of his buddies and then to Castlewood to meet the rest of their den... hop out of the van to find that the last-minute trail switch doesn't meander evenly by the river... this one rockets straight up one of those big Ozark-hills... no switchbacks, no takebacks... already being a little dehydrated, I walk up with the front of the pack because I'm not going to embarrass my young scout by being the mom who couldn't keep up... by the time I get to the top my face feels sunburned from the – what feels – near-vertical climb... but the rest is steady or downhill and turns out half the parents turned back anyway... continue the rest of the 1.6 miles through woods up to magnificent vistas above hills and river and a train steaming down below... then wander down those 120 year-old ruins from the days of dance halls and general stores and soda fountains in the woods to sandy soils and washed-out mud banks by the Meramec... while the den leader shares with me the history of Chick-fil-A and Popeyes and about their friend who adopted from Guatemala... about an hour later the hike has tired the boys enough to silently and happily watch “Top Cat” the whole drive back...
Evening rolls in way fast...
...Oxbear is home from retreat and happy he went...
...Puck at work for four hours...
...Patience returns with her Nana and Papa from (as best I can tell from her description) a ballet based on Charlie Brown in which her also-nine-year-old cousin was one of the cast...
Pick up Puck at eight... walks out with a just-purchased trashcan... he stomps down to the basement carrying a broom, the trashcan, and a razor... returns ten minutes later fully bald again... “Noooo!” Patience wails... then pouts... “You don't look like yourself... you look like Mr. Clean...” which makes big brother smile...