June 8

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Home for the day.

Carrie-Bri had returned from Ohio from the previous night, and was out for the day with Kitts and Eve to the Lemp Mansion and Blueberry Hill, and henna hair dying.

Over at the house, Collette and Puck were playing his favorite game. Puck would stand at the top of the driveway with a small rubber ball. He would toss it down the driveway and start running pell-mell after it. Collette’s job in the game was to first quickly catch the ball before it ran into the street, and then catch her son under his arms and swing him around in a big circle while he giggled his head off.

Then they sat on the porch and ate banana chips as they listened to the thunder roll under a threatening sky.

“Yes!” Puck exclaimed, whenever the thunder cracked.

Finally, at the lunch hour, the rain fell.

Puck slept deep for his nap as the rain wove a snuggly nest around the open windows, and the thunder rumbled contentedly in the east.

And then came the wind. Beautiful. Glorious. Wind. Just as it had been in Maine those six years ago…

Puck woke from his nap and watched the storm from the living room windows. The mist of rain blew through the screens and sucked the white curtains toward them.

“Hold on to dah curtains, Mama, so dah ‘funder’ doesn’t take dem!” Puck declared loudly. “Hold on, ‘fore it starts to wail.”

After a jog for Collette, a bath for the Puckster, dinner and Calvin and Hobbes, another evening wrapped to a close.