wt: "momma, i'm not gonna have a farm like andrew,
but i'll live next to him. i'm gonna travel all over the world and give money to the poor people and sing God-peace. do you know what God-peace is? it's s-o-n-g-s a-b-ou-t G-o-d."
(sounds the words out phonetically
for me)
db: "ok, if that's what you want to do, i'll help you do it!"
wt: "oh, you can't, momma because when i'm all grown up you'll need a walking cane and you won't be able to dance very good."
(were we talking about dancing?)
db: "okaaaaaaaayyy... well then, what can my job be?"
wt: "you can give the money away."
db: "deal."
-wt & db conversation
*****
ar: "momma, i've been thinkin'..."
db: " 'bout what?"
ar: "well, i'ts not that i don't want to have a farm, but i just really don't want to leave THIS place."
we're sitting - balancing, really - legs swinging, the 3 of us, on bare beams, the promise of fort-to-be. late february sun warms our backs, faces turned downward, studying cool dirt and rocks beneath.
ar: "i mean, if we had a farm, would we have to sell this place? what if the man we sold it to didn't take care of it?"
wt: "yeah, we'd have to make sure we sold it to
somebody really honest."
ar: "and if we had animals, we couldn't come here everyday could we, because who would feed the animals? and i don't want just a couple of horses, i want ANIMALS! we have a big backyard, couldn't we just keep the animals back here with us?"
db: "what kid of animals do you want on the farm?"
photo coming soon
wt: "yeah, we could have a capybara,and a deer,
like a pet deer, and..."
ar: "oh, i don't know, some cows that i can round up maybe. not JUST a horse in a corral."
wil balances on exposed beams and magnolia limbs and wrestles a cord and a beach towel into a hammock-of-sorts. it's a precarious arrangement at best, and i fight the mom-instinct to deny him this experiment in probability and gravity, and choose instead to admire his ingenuity.
his brother leans back with head in hands,
King-of-All-He Surveys...
ar: "i wouldn't trade this place for a... for a whole kingdom!"
wt: "or a PALACE even!"
february sun warms through now and brothers shed t-shirts. one asks for a popsicle and i go in search of bits of summer tucked away in the freezer for just such a february afternoon.
*****
