these roots

My Anna came up from the oh so far away state of Texas to visit family last week (thank you, thank you, thank you) and the kids and I went up to Bigfork to spend a few days. AJ was working, so he missed out.

It's great being closer to Bigfork. The drive was almost exactly two hours. Not even long enough for a potty break or whiny kids in the back. If you're a parent, you know how fantastic that is.

We mostly lazed around and visited.
We did take a small walk but walking is not so easy packing a large babe around. Si is getting too big for that business.

I had a great talk with Grandma about marriage and the faithfulness of God.

I worked with Dad harvesting the garden, and he gave me one third of it. It was good to get my hands dirty. I love the smell of the freshly turned up dirt and the companionship of being in the garden with my dad. I miss it dearly.

The kids chattered and sifted through the dirt for potatoes and ate carrots fresh from the ground. And chattered. And fed chickens. And chattered.
I love listening to the chatter. I take it for granted when it feels like I'm constantly having questions leveled at me, but when they chatter at someone else I realize what a sweet sound it is.

Embrace the chatter.

We had a campfire with s'mores.

And we made French toast with my step-mom.

As I passed the Little Brown Church on my way home, the window was down with the last of summer's sun on my shoulder and the song on the radio was singing about love that lasts when the young girl's brown hair turns gray, and I had a moment.
I realized that this weekend had been special. It reminded me how it felt to be seven. Or seventeen. We did the things I did when I was growing up. Only I was the grownup and the kids running around were mine.
I realized that these roots don't only belong to me anymore. I've passed them on to a new generation.

I hope they love them as much as I do.