From the crack of the bat to the perfect toast of the mallow, summer is here in all of its backyard lightning bug catching glory.
Growing up in the middle (literally) of a cornfield in Nebraska I enjoyed the croak of the bullfrog and the glow of the lightning bugs each summer, but it wasn't until recently that I realized some people don't know of such soothing summer sights and sounds. They consider lightning bugs (fireflies) to be mythical creatures. The stuff of little girls dreams.
This weekend we spent a beautiful summer evening enjoying food, cold ones and awesome friends. When the sun fell below the horizon and the glow of fireflies lit the yard Ella was as excited as she is every night. I told her I'd get her a container to catch them. "You can catch them? How?" My Cali-girl gal-pal was astonished. A. Ston. Ished. "Seriously? You can keep them in a jar?"
To me it seemed her daughter was about to learn one of the greatest joys a kid can imagine at dusk of a summer evening. Catching fireflies, giving them shelter in an old Ball jar and letting their soothing twinkle lull her to sleep.
That night we made do with a clear solo cup and some tin foil, but tonight, in preparation for little Emma's trip back to Cali to see her cousins, we made her a very special lightning bug jar. A full quart size, complete with air-holes in the lid and a pretty fabric swatch to go under the ring. A perfect gift for this little lady. Heavenly.
It got me to thinking about the other people in my life that live far from The Good Life. My brother-in-law sheds his shoes and socks, rolls up his jeans and runs through the grass like a kid when he gets back to Nebraska in the summer. Green grass. Soft grass. Grass between the toes. Heavenly.
We are in the planning zone for this summer's greatest week. A week at the big lake in Nebraska. Big Mac. Lake McConaughy. 20 miles of shoreline. 35,700 acres of surface area at full-capacity. Waterskiing, fishing and tubing. Beach camping, campfire pies, and s'mores. Smoky air, crackling logs and waves on the beach.
Heavenly.
We are blessed. Richly and in many ways. We have a lake house we can visit anytime complete with fishing, kayaking and relaxing. Ella and I enjoy a nice kayaking excursion on a calm clear morning. She takes her sketch paper and artist supplies, I take my thoughts, and together we relax and enjoy nature. By the time we get back to grammy and grampy's lakehouse she has created a book of God's creatures we've seen. All the way from the birds in the sky down to the family of fish under the logs where the turtles live. I have a clearer mind and calmer heart.
Heavenly.
New life abounds all around us here in the heartland. Young calves and colts litter the pastures and sometimes the littlest of friends need a helping hand. One single, solitary set of 12 hours offered us two occasions to engage in Rescue Missions last week. Ella's affection for all critters brought us to the rescue of a family of ducks at the park. Their wayward travels took them away from the pond, through the playground and into the street. Momma seemed confused and the downy little ducklings hadn't a care in the world. But my little Ella cared enough for all of them, so we ushered them gently back to the grass and safety.
Kittens? Did someone see kittens?
"Meow meow" (Yes.) "Meow-meow-meow" (Can we keep them?)
(If you know us well, you know that Ella spent a portion of a preschool-age year communicating primarily in kitten. I am now fluent.)
"No. We live in town, cats belong outside and your dad is allergic to cats." (Solid argument, no?)
Lord help us, there were kittens by the side of the driveway to the lake house early on Wednesday morning.
Lord help us even more that they were still there, seemingly abandoned, that evening.
Commence Operation Kitten Rescue. After a long day of summer day-camp, swimming and running around, we agreed to come to the rescue of the kittens. Right after supper. The kids and I loaded up on the four-wheeler and went to check on the kitties. A container of milk and milk-soaked bread in-hand we coaxed those curious but scared little kitties out of the brush and up to the buffet we offered. My defenses weakened by the pure innocence and adorable nature of kittens and my Ella, I agreed that we should find a large box and give the kittens shelter for the overnight. As we departed in search of a box a momma cat came across the road, but gave little notice to the kittens. We watched, assuming we would find out one way or another if this was their momma. Her lack of interest made me wonder still, so we fetched the box and extra milk. Upon our return, momma was licking the bowl clean and heading off down the road. Ella quickly realized these kitties did indeed have a momma and the dam broke...
W-I-D-E open. Gushing tears of heartbreak. Never has a child been so heartbroken by the existence of a live-and-well animal. Ever.
Mission... over.
Ella's take on the whole thing?
Kittens are heavenly.
Not getting to keep them is heart-wrenching and painful. So painful only grammy can make it better.
As the snuggling soothed the kitten-induced drama, talk turned to the fairy camp she was attending that week. Fairy wings on day one. Wands on day two. Flower crowns on day three. Fairy houses on day four. Tea and cupcakes and fairy butterfly feeders on day five.
If she didn't get enough at camp, she's filling her bucket at home this week! Seeing how infatuated and enamored she was with all the fairy-goodness of that week's camp I made a quick stop at Hobby Lobby to gather fairy-approved supplies and arranged a fairy house-making afternoon with her best girlfriend from school.
My garage looks like Pixie Hollow exploded, but these girls had a blast!
For me, this is the season.
Baseball games & s'mores.
Green grass & croakin' bullfrogs.
Downy ducklings & cute-cute kittens.
Campfires & lake life.
Fireflies and Fairy Gardens.
Heavenly.
