I haven't been blogging nearly enough these days, and it isn't for not wanting to post, but instead for lack of time and a moment to collect my thoughts.
It's been a whirlwind of a couple months really. Robin was away five and a half weeks of the last eight, sourcing brick, visiting friends, attending workshops, stoking fireboxes - all for the love of clay of course. He's been back now just over a week and its been a frenzy of activity around our place with all our summer projects ramping up.
And at the end of the day, all the effort I can muster up is dedicated to climbing the stairs to my bed, sometimes before the sun even goes down.
But today was a true Sunday, the weather cooperated perfectly and we honoured the seventh day of rest and forgot about our todo lists.
Today will also be remembered always as the day Roscoe learned to ride a bike. Remember Isla's? Well with Roscoe, we skipped the training wheels entirely and last fall he cruised the sidewalks in Logan on a strider bike. Then this spring, our neighbour lent us their little two wheeler with the pedals removed. But today, the daddy decided he was ready for pedals. And was he ever.
It took Roscoe about 5 mins on his hand-me-down 'Glamour Girl' ride to figure it out. And with a grin a mile wide, he spent the entire rest of the day with his behind truimphantly planted on that seat.
To make it even more memorable, we all headed down to the rails to trails just below our property, a converted old rail line that runs along the length of the river as it meanders south down the valley. What we thought would be a good practice zone for Roscoe's new talent, turned into a 5 km family bike ride. Both Robin and I couldn't believe his stamina.
But all good things must come to an end. And as I put a wailing and over tired 3 1/2 year old to bed tonight, with real tears wanting to go back outside and ride some more, I remembered oddly that his very first word was 'BIKE".