Showing posts from July, 2008
Norah and her dad sit for a drink and a short rest on a big rock during one of our hikes. We just returned from our annual camping trip. I squashed more bugs this trip than I ever remember. Norah got so used to the "daddy long leggers" crawling everywhere, she would basically brush them off her arms by the end of the week. (My brother and sister and I called them "Grand Daddy Long Legs" when we were young, since we only ever saw them when we visited our Grandfather deep in the woods of rural Arkansas. They'd crawl up the pipes in the bathrooms of his big house. Yuck!) We also went on a few hikes through the woods, by rocky streams, past huge outcroppings of rocks. It was beautiful. Norah climbed any of the rocks we came upon like a natural, finding better places to step than either my husband or I did. It reminds me: I once lay sprawled out on my back on the side of a snowy mountain looking up into the sky, one ski still on my bruised, twisted foot, the ot