There is a desperation that comes with what we northerners call an "Indian Summer." If the term isn't considered politically correct, please know that I use it in the most endearing of terms. We've been experiencing a week of perhaps the most beautiful weather, a calm before the endless winter, a chance to clear our lungs and homes before interior air is all we'll breathe. After preschool today Axel and I built a tent in the backyard to celebrate the last forecasted day of this weather pattern. I think even Oliver could feel the pressure of soaking up every last ray – and that we did until the sun went down. As my boys lay atop a mound of blankets, staring up at the muted light through vintage sheets, I ran inside to get our lunch. During the 3 minutes I watched from the kitchen, Axel created a game he called "Merry Moo Cow" for Oliver, perhaps their first solo interaction. Axel would hang the "cow" from the top of the tent and wait for it to fall down. Incorporating song, dance and giggles they bonded as brothers...and then Oliver tried to eat Axel and the sillies continued. Keeping one eye on that cow.
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