It’s the first day of Chris’s holidays so I suppose it’s the first day of mine too. I was woken up when Phoenie came into our bedroom and squished his little body between us. I asked him, “How come everybody likes to hang out with you?” Without missing a beat, Phoenie responded very matter of factly, “Because I have blue eyes.” I just smiled. What could I say? Phoenie started to recite, “Criss, Cross, Apple Sauce” while his fingers acted like little spiders all over Papak’s back. Apparently, it was a nice way to wake up.
…and so, our day began…ever so slowly but with great intention.
The three of us started to plan our day – Phoenie suggested that we play Mouse Trap as soon as we got downstairs. Papak’s contribution to the morning schedule was that we could climb on top of the roof and Phoenie could help fix the shingles. I thought a pancake breakfast was in order.
We didn’t do any of that. Instead, Chris and Phoenie practiced “Belly High Fives” and then waded out in the lake, squirting each other with water guns. I sat near the window air conditioner and crocheted three rows of my next blanket project.
It was now 10:00 a.m. and we decided to throw some towels into the boat, fill a cooler with cold drinks and snacks, climb into the boat and motor to the middle of the lake. We jumped off the side of the boat and went swimming again. It was hot, humid and hazy all around us so the deeper water was extra cold and refreshing.
Then we headed to the Beaverton marine and bought popsicles.
We arrived home at 2:00 and since then, we have been even less productive than we were in the morning. I wanted to go pick some herbs and some peas but I was too tired. Chris couldn’t even imagine lifting a hammer so he retired to the couch, licorice and a news magazine. Phoenie started to play a game on the computer. Periodically, we heard, “YES!” yelled from the back room and imagined him doing a victory fist pump.
Phoenie just came into the room, asked me what I was doing and I told him that I was writing about him. He took his last gulp of Pomegranate and Perrier, his favourite drink, and smiled. Then he burped and said, “Excuse me.”
“Just don’t write about me burping, OK Nana? “
I had to…it’s the most productive thing any of us have done all day.
These are the days that good holidays are made of..lazy and slow. It’s been good.
In fact, it’s been glorious. Now, we’re heading out swimming again.