a portrait of an artist as a young man

stream of consciousness. it is the one thing i remember most about the writing of james joyce. sometimes i feel like that is where i live. all the time. saying what pops into my mind{before i forget or before i get interrupted}. living without rhyme or reason{or coherence}. this past weekend the two older boys along with their father took to the woods to explore a different kind of stream of consciousness. the continuance of what it means to be an honorable man.

this intentional older boy retreat was to continue a dialogue we have been having for a long while now. 

once upon a time two very little boys were wrestling in the bathtub. their father told them to take care of their bodies because there were certain sensitive parts they would really need someday. when asked why, the Mister began a talk about the male sexual reproductive body parts. the talk is ongoing{as is the wrestling}. and while he can't recommend the cd curriculum he used, the Mister felt like the weekend was pretty spot on for what they all needed-including a contest of who could last the longest in the icy water. want to take a guess who won?

fall is in full bloom here in the mid-atlantic. changing leaves, shorter days, icy waters. the dying of some things. the changing of others. the welcome of a change of pace. the farewell to long light streaked afternoons that once stretched on til bedtime. and this change in season marks a change in my boys. they are no longer boys. they are future men. 

i recently heard someone refer to god as a gentleman, "he does not force himself upon us". that was probably the most endearing description i have ever heard of god. and in pursuit of raising gentlemen, i can only hope these fellows will seek the likeness of the ultimate gentleman as they grow in stature. 

while the big boys were off traipsing in the woods, the littles and i took in a fun afternoon at the big wooden slide. imagine a bowling alley turned on an incline with a few moguls for good measure. serious fun.

p.s. i asked the Mister if we should throw out those terribly cheesy christian sex CDs. he thoughtfully replied, "i kind of think we need to make the younger boys listen to them-just to be fair." 

xo,

gf

these boots were made for walking

i am standing in the kitchen making dinner. pandora is blaring. the boys are off in their little necks of the wood-literally. i have about 5 minutes before the hunger in their bodies reminds them that they have a warm home with a mother who is steady at the helm stirring a pot of something hot that they will likely dismiss with unsavory remarks.

and just like that the breeze blows in leaves and debris from their wild outdoor adventures. cockaburs and uprooted plants gather in their shoes and tousled hair. their arms are full of whittled sticks, slingshots, air soft guns, bow and arrows. an arsenal for any adventurous boy. again, i remind them to please leave their sticks by the door.

i glance down. the smelly trash grabs my senses. you can only smell it if you are standing close to the huge receptacle. and i am. i type on a keyboard sticky from my failed effort to multitask. eating a leftover peanut butter and jelly quarter of a sandwich whilst typing. trying hard to document our day. this day i lost yet another pair of boots. the ones that now rest in peace in the smelly bag that lines the can within my sense of smell. 

o, and to think just this morning when asked what i was thankful for, i remarked: my five senses. god is so good that he gave us 5 ways to enjoy this amazing world. and now i curse that sense of smell. so close. stinky boots-filled trash.

i often think that the perfect gift for a new mother is a good pair of wellies, a boot that is fitted for battle-in puddles, hills, mud and traipsing through high wooded areas. a new diaper bag is cute and practical. a diaper genie is obsolete{loathe}. a monogram blanket will be adored, but not used. however, a good pair of boots. those are sure to get a lot of miles in a house where young children dwell. and if they don't, then, well that is just too bad, friend. i ask you. do you own a pair of boots, but keep them for something other than the nitty gritty of life with younguns? kindly consider dusting them off and joining your little ones{or some borrowed children}on the grandeur of the outdoors. for when you tuck in your pant legs you feel positively invincible as you walk through the woods. no snake can bite. no insect can find its way with that rubber barrier as you set off into the woods.

my first pair 

once upon a time when we lived in the suburbs and our 3rd baby was newly born, i ventured out in a pair of polka dotted boots with my little boys. it was just beyond our fenced backyard. it was a spring morning. we were within eye shot of our little brick bungalow. and there the 4 year old noticed, "mommy, scat!" the mysterious and alluring{for kids}droppings from a deer. and within a few feet we found the molted antler. exhilarated with our find, we made a pact that day. nature is worth our prowess. there is always something worth finding when we step out beyond our comfort zone and into nature. and that day we were rewarded for our measly endeavor. me, a mama with two young ones and a newborn. sleep deprivation was heavy on me, as was the post baby weight. i craved a bed, a pillow and a decadent sleep.  every season has its time. i was in the season of toddlers and babies and a curious minded lad who did not wish to play indoors on this spring day. and so i girded up all my inner mama mojo. and for that reason, i have burned through a number of rubber boots. have literally worn them out. that precious antler rests by our front door more than 9 years later. a signpost that we are the kind of family who lives for an adventure especially ones out in nature. and we are always rewarded for our undertaking.

antlers:franklin,tn{2003)coral:dominican republic{2009}
nature bowls teeming with treasures too many to recall

i sure hope this week's end finds you traipsing and traveling out of doors to wonder and revel in the beautiful sodded soil. breathe in. consider the sky. can you hear the small as well as the great? feel the crisp air. savor the fall flavors. you have five senses so you might as well use them.

yours,

gf

p.s. this is my 200th post. and i have so much more to tell you. thank you for the encouragement! so grateful for this space.

happy trails

"the little ones leaped, and shouted and laughed, and all the hills echoed." william blake

cunningham falls

as a child i spent a great deal of time outdoors. we always lived in houses that had something to offer once you walked out the door-be it trees to climb, a pool to swim in, or a pond to cast my cane pole. i have childhood memories of riding my bike around our neighborhood trolling for playmates, jumping my go-cart across a ditch and heading out on all day adventures on my 3-wheeler with my best friend amanda. all of my cherished childhood memories happened in nature or at least outside. 

fall creek falls

every fall we would take a family drive up to the smoky mountains to enjoy the change in color. i would sip a carbonated clear beverage to keep from throwing up {car sick from all the twists in the upward and downward descents}. 

appalachian trail

in college i would venture off campus with my bike for out of the way places sometimes by myself. my favorite was the katy trail. goodness i loved that trail probably because it was beautiful and FLAT. and ran along water. i still remember those happy times either alone or with my friend chris who loved the trail as much as me. but mostly i would steal away to be by myself to think and wander.

c&o canal

one of the things i loved about my husband was his experience on trails, any trail. when we began dating he had had many a wild outdoor adventure including hypothermia that had him sharing a sleeping bag in his skivvies with his best friend jay. 

our first hike to the chimneys
circa 1993

when i moved to east tennessee we often drove the short road to the mountains for a day hike. the chimneys was a favorite climb. that was back when people used maps, and he kept a tattered collection. 

appalachian trail

i cannot imagine life without a trail really. i feel a little like marjorie rawlings when she wrote, "i do not understand how anyone can live without some small place of enchantment to turn to."

montgomery bell state park

it was sad for us to move from the mountains of east tennessee to the flat middle tennessee, but when we did we found our beloved radnor lake, my favorite place in nashville. 

catoctin furnace trail

our boys took their first hike along that scenic trail. it was where i spent many a birthday, alone usually with the fragrance of the newly hewn path made from chipped christmas trees to cheer me. 

cunningham falls state park

as the boys got older, we took them on longer, more out of the way trails: cedars of lebanon, the chimneys, fall creek falls, clingman's dome to name a few. 

the last leg of the maryland section of the A.T.

right now we live with the view of the appalachian trail from our back window. as they practice their math, work on spelling and eat, they do so with the landscape of this most famous trail within their casual glimpse. i often feel this is god's providence.

savage gulf 

the older i get, the more alive i feel when i find myself within a canopy of trees. curious to see where the path will take me. delighted to have the moss and fern to line the towpath. o, can you imagine? 

green ridge state forest

like me, our boys come alive outside. i can see it in their gait. i can hear it in their war cries. they love the large space. no doors to hold them out. no walls to bump up against. it's lovely and full. the other day whilst driving in the country the oldest commented, "wouldn't it be great if we lived out like this?" my heart agreed.

fall creek falls

south mountain state park

these boys who favor their father more than their mother still have specks of me sprinkled through. their love for trees. their interest in trails. their delight in travel. their curiosity in the path and where it leads. i can only hope that it remains as they grow into men who make up their minds and pitch their tents in lands known or unknown. 

sugar loaf mountain

one boy has wistfully shared his desire to become a park ranger when he is older, a fitting choice for my animal loving, wild one and for his sake and mine, i hope that he does.

yesterday we were at the doctor's office. the nurse asked my son what sports he enjoys. "let's see", he began. "i like biking and swimming and hunting-and hiking." and my heart was happy. 

very, very happy. 

xo,

gf

March Madness

March wind is a jolly fellow;

He likes to joke and play.

He turns umbrellas inside out

And blows men's hats away.

He calls the pussy willows

And whispers in each ear,

"Wake up you lazy little seeds,

Don't you know that spring is here."

-Author Unknown

I have been wishing to get outdoors with my clippers, but there was business keeping me inside. Business like: math to monitor, breakfast dishes to wash, laundry to fold, phone calls to return. The boys were long gone. Word got around that the public school was closed today for teacher inservice so the little boys worked quickly to get outside. 

It was a lovely day, but the wind was almost barbaric. And with the wild wind came a chill in the air that had the oldest asking if we could turn on the heat. When I said no, he asked,"Can you give me more algebra questions? These word problems are not fun."  With 28 questions completed, he went to find his gun. The sunshine called us down to the Eastern Plain (not to be confused with the Eastern Forest)-which the oldest calls our backyard and our back, backyard. The boy shot as I clipped some redbud branches and forsythia. My boys love to call the vibrant yellow bush "For Cynthia" after their Aunt Cissy.

Red-Bud

I will go, I said, to the country 

      When the red-bud blooms in the spring 

And then, as of old, for sheer rapture 

      My heart will sing. 

  

The red-bud rosily blossomed 

      In valley and hill and plain, 

And yet my heart could not banish 

      Its sense of pain.

^__May Frink Converse

I hope you have time to go outdoors and enjoy this glorious spring for soon it will pass and you will be sad you did not enjoy it while you had the chance! xo

out of the blue

Yesterday the nicest man came to my house driving a blue pick up truck. The boys were so excited to see this stranger arrive for he brought with him some fun blue lockers for them to stow all their stuff like socks and cleats and back packs and shin guards and Lego guys. As we he unloaded the big pieces of metal, I nonchalantly explained what I thought he must be thinking, "We school at home." He politely commented, "I know a lot of people who do that." I asked if he had children. "Yes, but she is grown and in college." As the boys ran around getting in his way, planning which locker was whose, where lockers were going, what was going to go in the lockers and taking turns locking themselves and one another in said lockers, he, the stranger in the blue truck reminded me: "Time goes so fast. It is something money can't buy." And for the rest of the day I thought about that. {Until the 8 year interrupted my "I am going to sit in my chair with my eyes closed to think sleep", and I snapped at him.}

After the stranger left, we managed to wrangle in a few short stints of school before the call of the outdoors won out and made the indoor book stuff pale in comparison to the adventure that led us into the wild. Listen to one of my favorite songs about such things.