We spent the week at The Lone Tree Farm. Our children and their cousins are the 6th generation to play on the banks of the Kanaranzi Creek. They climbed the broken down Box Elder trees and scavenged for arrowheads and fossils along the creek bed. They searched for leprechauns and fairies and hunted ogres in plum thickets.
I learned a lot while I was there.
I learned how to be lazy. And that gravel in the driveway can be a wondrous thing to a toddler with a bucket. And that trees can be Power Ranger rocket ships. I learned that you can ride a cow if it’s there and it doesn’t mind being ridden. That swinging on a swing is more adventurous if you add a hula hoop and some well-timed jumping. That rocks with holes in them are magical talisman to keep you safe while traveling. That a toddler can entertain herself for three hours in the middle of the night singing “La, la, la, mama, la, la, la” if she is woken up at the wrong time. That running a single-track can sometimes mean dodging cow poop instead of rocks. That slowing life down a bit feels good. That if you are 18 months old, you can be both fascinated and repulsed by too-friendly barn cats. That Grammy makes the best cinnamon rolls. That Extreme Porch Sitting is a thing and Papa is a world champion. And finally, if you are TOO lazy and indulge in TOO many cinnamon rolls you should be dodging a lot more cow poop.