Today a murder of sweaty little boys flew through the apartment, flitting in and out, forgetting to close the slider, asking for glasses of water or snacks, wanting to play Wii, off to ride their bikes, pulling off shoes and socks because of the heat. Life as usual in the West/McCrea household.
The sweet side of this tale is that they all at one point or another brought in little weed flower offerings to the goddess of the realm. Meggan accepted all graciously. Some went into a little glass of water, some on the window shelf; all delicate little flowers expired within 30 minutes.
There is something about being elevated from a common weed to a gift of love that appealed to me.
June 17, 2011