Storey

Children keep you in the "now."

"Stolen Moment" (Storey), oil on panel

Granddaughter Storey (four now) was here for a few days and I think we covered most of the bases. . .she had a painting session in Gigi's studio (she is a serious abstract expressionist),  we dragged out an old wooden train that years ago became an annual tradition in our Christmas house. . .it encircled the tree with tiny presents loaded on the cars. . .a miniature bear or two riding in style with winter scarves flying.  It went home with Storey this time. . .the tradition passes on. 

We took a walk in the woods, exploring creeks running clear and cold, and I was pleased to see she has a penchant, like her grandmother, for picking up sticks and carrying them.  There's no explaining that. . .it just is.  She paraded the house as Queen Storey Angel, clothed in a bright blue throw knotted around her neck and serving as a queenly train. . .daddy made an appropriate paper crown and a matching kingly one for Daddy King!  They went through the house ordering edicts of sorts. . .mostly mumble jumble directed towards their lowly humble servants. . .mainly Gigi and mama. 

We shopped with Christmas decorations in mind, gazing at all the sparkle and glitz lining the aisles in colorful profusion proclaiming "tis the season."  Turkey was roasted, tummies were filled, stories were read, birds and squirrels were watched, leaves were played in; a low, bare, Dogwood tree limb in the front yard was gracious enough to supply a "hanging branch" for repeated jumping up and grabbing on.  What is up about that?  I would seriously bet that all of us have done that as children. . .why?  And what exactly makes it so much golly gee fun?  It strikes me that as adults we don't do that enough - or EVER!  Not one, but two parks were visited with swinging, climbing, sliding, running and making new friends in the brisk glow of the sun-setting afternoon. 

Her appetite for life is infectious, her observations hilarious, her child wisdom exceedingly sharp. . .although (small confession) I am left wilted and begging for bed at a way-too-early time.   I was struck several times how lucky we adults are that she actually puts up with US! 

The painting above captures Storey in a reflective moment. . .she does have quite serious ruminations at times.  She is a lovely muse and shows her respect when calling me. . .asking first, "Gigi, can you talk now?"  Knowing full well I'm perhaps busy working at my easel painting away. 

I'm always moved by that. . .and, of course, (no matter what) my answer is always YES!