I feel dull this morning. Sasha acts dull witted this
morning. She had to stay with the vet all yesterday afternoon and received
vaccines which I think have caused her to be thickheaded. She seems to wander
about in a daze. It seems to be contagious.
I've tried to bring back the memories of Kyndall as a child, but the only one to stand out is the day I picked her up after daycare. I went in and she was busy as usual. She has always thrown herself into whatever activity absorbs her and she was no different then. She has always been full of energy. She finally came over with a grin on her face and excitement in her eyes. I took her by the hand and we walked out to the car.
I buckled her into her car seat then cranked the car. We were riding along on that fine spring day when I saw wild yellow daisies with brown eye centers waving in the breeze caused by the cars zooming along the highway. They grew in clusters lining the shoulder.
"Kyndall, you want to let's stop and pick flowers?"
Always ready for something to do, she responded, "Yeh, let's pick flowers!"
I pulled the car off the highway onto the shoulder and got out. I opened her door. She had already unbuckled her belt and was climbing out.
"Please be careful now. Those cars are zooming past. I don't want you to get hurt so stay away from the edge of the road, OK?"
"OK." She commenced picking flowers by the handfuls. We walked along the edge gathering large quantities of wildflowers. We both looked up to see how many the other had and decided at the same time it was enough.
Our bouquets combined and placed in the rear seat, we gathered ourselves back into the car to finish our journey home. However, we made one more stop at a local seafood shop and bought several pounds of shrimp. These we carried back the to house for dinner.
The flowers we put into vases on the table. Then we pulled out all manner of pots and pans. I loaded the shrimp into the colander to rinse them after placing a large pot full of water on the stove to heat. While waiting for the water to boil I searched for the crab boil to throw into the pot.
Kyndall, active as ever, was bouncing up and down on a rocking horse we had gotten her earlier in the year. She never sat in the saddle. She held onto the handgrips and stood in the saddle bouncing as vigorously as possible creating loud squeaking noises and a huge grin on her face.
She'd jump from the horse to the couch head over end to come to a standstill looking at the world upside down. Standing on her head was a favorite pastime. the world must have been cock-eyed even back then to her young mind.
"OK, I'm ready to boil the shrimp," I said while pouring the gray slabs into the boiling water. "Watch them turn pink." I lifted her up near the pot full of churning water.
"Once they turn they're ready to eat. We'll have to wait though for them to cool a bit. Why don't you set the table while I get them ready."
"OK, daddy."
She scurried about grabbing plates and napkins and forks and spoons. She put the dining utensils on the yellow table my dad had made for us. "Candles. We need candles," she said.
"All right. They should be in the drawer there."
I mixed a sauce for the shrimp and handed that to her. She carried it to the table setting it in the center. I began to scoop the shrimp out into a large communal bowl.
Once it was full I carried the steaming shrimps to the table leaving behind a powerful trail of the exotic aroma of all the spices and such contained in the seasoning added to the water.
"Oooh, That smells good, daddy."
"Yeh it does, doesn't it?"
Just as we finished loading everything onto the table the front door opened.
"Mommy!" Kyndall yelled running to her.
She bent down to give her a hug. Then dropped her things in the chair by the door.
"Look Mommy! We picked you flowers! And we cooked dinner!"
"Wow, you have been busy, haven't you? It smells good. And you did this by yourselves?"
"Yes! Daddy and I picked flowers by the roadside and then came home and cooked shrimp. do you like it?"
"Oh yes. It's such a nice surprise."
"I knew you'd like it. Thanks daddy."
We sat and we ate and time passed on and I swear it's true as memory serves give or take a lie or two. Very mundane but priceless.
I've tried to bring back the memories of Kyndall as a child, but the only one to stand out is the day I picked her up after daycare. I went in and she was busy as usual. She has always thrown herself into whatever activity absorbs her and she was no different then. She has always been full of energy. She finally came over with a grin on her face and excitement in her eyes. I took her by the hand and we walked out to the car.
I buckled her into her car seat then cranked the car. We were riding along on that fine spring day when I saw wild yellow daisies with brown eye centers waving in the breeze caused by the cars zooming along the highway. They grew in clusters lining the shoulder.
"Kyndall, you want to let's stop and pick flowers?"
Always ready for something to do, she responded, "Yeh, let's pick flowers!"
I pulled the car off the highway onto the shoulder and got out. I opened her door. She had already unbuckled her belt and was climbing out.
"Please be careful now. Those cars are zooming past. I don't want you to get hurt so stay away from the edge of the road, OK?"
"OK." She commenced picking flowers by the handfuls. We walked along the edge gathering large quantities of wildflowers. We both looked up to see how many the other had and decided at the same time it was enough.
Our bouquets combined and placed in the rear seat, we gathered ourselves back into the car to finish our journey home. However, we made one more stop at a local seafood shop and bought several pounds of shrimp. These we carried back the to house for dinner.
The flowers we put into vases on the table. Then we pulled out all manner of pots and pans. I loaded the shrimp into the colander to rinse them after placing a large pot full of water on the stove to heat. While waiting for the water to boil I searched for the crab boil to throw into the pot.
Kyndall, active as ever, was bouncing up and down on a rocking horse we had gotten her earlier in the year. She never sat in the saddle. She held onto the handgrips and stood in the saddle bouncing as vigorously as possible creating loud squeaking noises and a huge grin on her face.
She'd jump from the horse to the couch head over end to come to a standstill looking at the world upside down. Standing on her head was a favorite pastime. the world must have been cock-eyed even back then to her young mind.
"OK, I'm ready to boil the shrimp," I said while pouring the gray slabs into the boiling water. "Watch them turn pink." I lifted her up near the pot full of churning water.
"Once they turn they're ready to eat. We'll have to wait though for them to cool a bit. Why don't you set the table while I get them ready."
"OK, daddy."
She scurried about grabbing plates and napkins and forks and spoons. She put the dining utensils on the yellow table my dad had made for us. "Candles. We need candles," she said.
"All right. They should be in the drawer there."
I mixed a sauce for the shrimp and handed that to her. She carried it to the table setting it in the center. I began to scoop the shrimp out into a large communal bowl.
Once it was full I carried the steaming shrimps to the table leaving behind a powerful trail of the exotic aroma of all the spices and such contained in the seasoning added to the water.
"Oooh, That smells good, daddy."
"Yeh it does, doesn't it?"
Just as we finished loading everything onto the table the front door opened.
"Mommy!" Kyndall yelled running to her.
She bent down to give her a hug. Then dropped her things in the chair by the door.
"Look Mommy! We picked you flowers! And we cooked dinner!"
"Wow, you have been busy, haven't you? It smells good. And you did this by yourselves?"
"Yes! Daddy and I picked flowers by the roadside and then came home and cooked shrimp. do you like it?"
"Oh yes. It's such a nice surprise."
"I knew you'd like it. Thanks daddy."
We sat and we ate and time passed on and I swear it's true as memory serves give or take a lie or two. Very mundane but priceless.
You are right. That was priceless! How old was she? Maybe 3 or 4? At that age, our daughter was really big into the "playing house" thing.
ReplyDeleteYup, 3 or 4. Just prior to my moving back up here.
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