Every morning, I drive the boys out to Friendship Montessori School, where they spend the day in a room full of people who love them and teach them to love learning and and how to read and why it’s important to treat other people with love and respect. This is all really good stuff, but my favorite part of dropping them off might be the drive down Worton Lynch Road. Especially when the light is just so.
Last Wednesday, we had our third in an ongoing series of alphabet-themed dinners. This week’s letter was C.
Alden and my mom spent the afternoon cooking and planning activities. Once we’d all settled in around the table, Alden read the menu. I’m not sure what exactly Kato was objecting to at this very moment, but I can assure you that the food was excellent and the conundrums were scintillating.
After we dispensed with the eating, we dug into the crafts. Alden was determined to finger weave, a skill she learned from her favorite babysitter, Shane.
She assured us that it would be easy.
Doubting ourselves, we nevertheless tried to keep an open mind.
But we soon discovered that our utter lack of confidence on ourselves had, in fact, been well founded.
After the catastrophic crafts, it was time to select the letter for next week’s dinner. Imagine yourself a drumroll here.
Kato was particularly pleased with the draw. And why?
Because he will be the guest of honor. If not the main dish.
We searched the caverns of our minds for suitable K dining options and could come up with nothing but key lime pie and kale. We were considered serving kandied Kato when someone thought of kiwi. But that’s as far as we were able to get. Kato looked nervous. We couldn’t exactly blame him.
The next morning, I took Iggy out and was reminded all over again how nice a barn we live in.
Later that day, Robbi used the leftover lasagna noodles to personalize the kids’ lunches.
That night, we headed to Eastern Shore Tang Soo Do for Alden’s latest belt test. The kid is growing more lethal by the hour.
I am glad to be on her good side.
The test was a 90-minute battery of punches, kicks, leaps, and blocks. The final hurdle? To break a not insubstantial wooden plank using nothing but her right elbow.
To me, it seems like an impossible task, but with the proper technique…
…and no small degree of determination…
…a pint-sized orange belt makes a spirited bid to advance to green.
The next morning, we found ourselves at the yearly Chestertown Pumpkin Patch celebration. Alden’s choice: pumpkin mini golf, bringing 10% talent and 90% attitude.
Augie brought 0% talent and 237% attitude.
And what are the requirements for pumpkin bocce?
Way more attitude.
And how about pumpkin bowling?
33 pounds of sheer intimidation.
And then there was pumpkin painting.
No attitude necessary. No intimidation required.
Many thanks to Chestertown’s own Bill Arrowood and the Chestertown Rec Commission, who do so much to make good things happen in our community.
In planning and organizing, they are especially attentive to the town’s littlest residents.
Once we got thoroughly pumpkined out, we headed over the bridge to Ikea so that Augie could wash his hands at a sink his own size.
While there, we picked up some bookshelves.
And some pumpkin flavored candles. That’s what Augie thought anyway. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that there are other orange things to be had, even in October.
Breaking a streak of at least 20 consecutive Swedish meatball lunches, I ordered the lox. And was not disappointed.
That night, we headed out to Unity Nursery for the annual bonfire. While we were waiting for the inferno, Alden made a new friend, a singer from Senegal named Egalitarian (of the Dinkendo Family Band) who taught her a song and brought her up on stage to help him sing it.
And then, someone lit a match. And the results were spectacular. Each of the three pyres of logs were topped by pieces of Sankalpa, the sculpture built by Vicco and Jacqui Von Voss for the Chestertown River Fest a few weeks back.
The fire continued as we walked around the lake back to our car.
I love our little town. Pumpkin fests and bonfires and only 90 minutes from IKEA.
Really, what else could one ask for?