The Good Life

With summer's advent, the girls spend most of their hours outdoors, giving me a window into their world with every glance.  This glance, in particular, made me ruefully realize how far I am from that world.  I came over to ask them to pick up the branches John had trimmed from our trees the previous day before realizing that they'd already put them to better use.  Only an adult would want to waste perfectly good branches by piling them next to the compost heap, and any child would instinctively know that should be formed into a jumbled tipi, instead.

Consider me scolded.

Each girl had her own nook to which she could invite the others.






Pippi reclined on the bench.

Luci had the wagon.

She used it mostly as a place to eat her shirtful of wild blackcaps.

Susannah camped out under the cherry tree with her sketch book and my Aunt Shirley's old bear Poly Ester.

Millie read books in the dirt.

And Annika, predictably, claimed the tree.

Live it up, little Pip, and don't become boring when you're old like me.