Commo Check

How's everybody doing? Already looking towards the coming autumn, back to school (for those in school, or those whose kids are in school, or those who TEACH school...), trying to cram in the last little bit of summer? Off doing the "late summer vacation" thing, away from the Internets (my family did that for years, took my father's two weeks in late August to travel up to a place called the Watervale Inn in upper western Michigan*)?

Just wondering because it seems a trifle quiet around here. Not sure if all the noise and activity is over at Milpub, or Facebookling, or whether I'm just not posting anything that's drawing comment. But I hope everyone is enjoying a fruitful and pleasant August.

Our August has been a little TOO fruitful in one respect. The plum tree in the back yard goes through cycles of bearing, some years just enough, others a bumper crop that threatens to overwhelm our compost bins. This year was the latter.

We generally try and keep ahead of the falling plums, but got lazy in the first week of August and by the time we caught back up we were overwhelmed. And, worse, somewhere nearby we have a hive of honeybees, who discovered the plums about the same time we stopped policing them up. The bees descended on the fallen fruit and began gorging, and before you could say "little yellow bastards" the back yard was a minefield of aggro honeybees drunk on fermented plum liquor. Poor Peep got stung on the foot as he tried to move the hammock, and I was chased off several times trying to clean up the tempting fruit. But late summer sun and wind appears to have dried up the temptation, and I may be able to gather in the rest.

But other than that, we're thrashing along. My work is still dangerously slow, while poor Mojo's is utterly mad - her attorney boss' mother is dying, the boss is taking time off and the project schedule is exploding. The big Peeper Man is getting ready for First Grade, while his little sister is just her usual adorable self.

With that, I have to tell you a Missy Story.

I'm leaving for work early (as usual) with a silent house behind me when I hear the "thumpa-tump" of little running feet. It's Missy; in the past year she's realized that she can jump out of her Big Girl Bed (unlike the cosleeper-cum-crib she was penned in for her first year with us) and roam about the house when she wakes up. She's my baby girl, rising early and perkily like I do (unlike those in our family who shun the morning like vampires; Mojo and the Peep would sleep until noon if they could) and she often runs out to sit with me when I don't have an early morning job.

But this morning I had to leave, so when she said "Daddy, I want sleep with you in your bed!" I picked her up and held her little body close to my heart, inhaling the warm, sleepy little-girl-morning smell of her, kissed her and told her I had to go to work. I asked her if she could go snuggle with mommy in our bed, and she agreed. So I went back into our bedroom and cuddled her down next to a very sleepy Mojo. I smiled down at the little bright eyes peeping up from behind the falls of black hair and the terrycloth wubbie, kissed her again and said bye-bye.

I went out into the kitchen to pick up my cell and again heard the sound of small feet on the floor, turned, and picked her up.

"Daddy," she whispered in my ear, "I want to give you hug and kiss; can I give you hug and kiss?"

As I carried her back to the bed I felt the whisper-light brush of her lips on my cheek and the "smack!" noise her kiss makes. Two small, fierce little arms went around my neck as I laid her back down amid the wavelets of sheet and blanket.

The morning outside was cool and misting, but it felt as warm as my heart.

(*I should really talk about this place, it's WAY cool. Maybe later this week)