June. Time for Freedom.

Well, I have 84 posts and far more than 84 days have rolled in and out of our lives this year. But it is a new month, and there is always hope. Tonight the boys and I are solo, but we have a special guest: my parents' dog, Mogey. With this guest, we are treated to having the perfect excuse to rush out the door at our usual bath time, sans shoes and one child sans shirt, and go around the block. Because when Mogey needs to go, he just needs to go! We went down the bike path and the freedom of no shoes, no shirt made for spontaneous singing and laughing and twisting around into the grass. Their bare toes pattered down the path, along the grass, then up the ramp to a neighboring street. There was little in the air except invisible water droplets -- the birds were quiet, there was no wind tossing the leaves around, and the sky hung low. Mogey poked and prowled in the neighborhood dogs' favorite bushes, but obliged me when I said, "We have to catch up with the boys!" On our last block we met a couple returning from an evening walk who had stopped at Trader Joe's. Elliott asked his technical survey questions: "Do you have a satellite? Do you have a CD player? Does your phone have Pac Man?" While Dietrich caught them up on the fire a home suffered on our street. The man admired their bare feet and remembered a time when his feet could tolerate the pricks of rocks and sticks on summer evenings. Elliott pointed out that they are now wearing running shoes and socks for their walk. Ah, yes, look at that, they said. They gave Mogey an admiring tussle around his collar and marveled at his size for a shelty. Then we were all on our way; the couple home to their TJ's snacks, the boys and the dog and me off to our sticky but sweet feeling house, a bath, and the rest that comes after a summer day.