Three Word Wednesday. Each week, Bone, at If You Read Only One Blog This Year, posts three (or more) random words. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to write something using all of those words. It can be a few lines, a story, a poem, anything.
"Come on, Kids. Now that you are all cleaned up, let's leave now and walk over to Aunt Ruth's house."
Visiting grandchildren and Spring-like weather had given my energy level a boost, and I thought I was in shape for an invigorating and adventurous walk with the six children. Aunt Ruth lived no more than a mile away along the streets -- it was an even shorter walk through the woods.
Always up for an adventure, the children's faces lit up, and they stood still for the obligatory sunscreen application and bug repellant spraying.
As we walked along the sidewalk, Aggie saw a brown thrasher flitting through the bushes and begged, "Can I try to take a picture of it? Please? It's our state bird." With my assenting nod, she began the chase along the path carefully aiming the camera. The rest of us tagged along into the woods to keep her in sight.
"Well, we might as well just stay on this path and go to Aunt Ruth's house through the woods now," said Nat.
"Sure. Let's do that. It's shorter that way anyway. Detouring through the woods will actually be a convenience."
Aggie ran back to the group. "I think I got a good picture!" she cried.
Just at that moment Jed saw a round river stone at the edge of the creek. "This would be perfect to paint for a paper weight. Can I get it?"
"Hey, that's a great idea," said Bri. "Let's each find one and make paperweights when we get back home. We can give them to our dads for Father's Day."
They began to search for the perfect stone, unearthing those half-buried on the banks of the stream and dipping hands into the water to pick up some just visible through the shallow water. "Watch out, Jed!" called Doc. "You might fall in if you reach so far! Let me get that one for you."
Doc looked up sheepishly with muddy water dripping off his hands and from his sodden, filthy shirt.
I looked around and suddenly realized that we were not on the path that I knew. "I guess we need to go that way," I said. We set off, picking up the pace since we had already been walking for quite some time.
The oldest girl, Raye, took the younger ones "under her wing" and shepherded them along at a good pace. "Just look at us!" she commented wryly. "Why did we bother to clean up? We are certainly not clean now!" They each displayed dirty hands, each grubby appendage holding a large river rock for later artwork. Doc's shirt was not the only one sporting smudges and grime. Jed had even managed to get smears of mud on his face, and the three younger girls' hair had come loose from their neat pony tails. Five pairs of blue eyes and one pair of hazel ones looked to me filled with trepidation -- expecting a reprimand.
"Oh well," I said, chuckling, "Aunt Ruth will have to see you as you really are, won't she?!" I don't think seeing 6 dirty children is likely to cause her to have a stroke. After all, she raised 7 kids; she knows all about the call of the forest and the lure of bodies of water.
Summer 2007 promises lots of adventure. This was just the opening chapter.