[OT] The magic of grass (the lawn variety)

Vicky, you write so beautifully that which is in your heart. It is no
wonder that you are so endeared to us, that we love your family so much. We
feel like you are our very best friend in the world and we are yours. Thank
you for that feeling. And thank you for this wonderful story.
Charleen

"Yowie" wrote in message
...
Work was busy, stressful and demanding. I came home with a headache and
sore
feet, exhausted and grumpy. Playing with Cary was a chore rather than
enjoyable, because every single one of his delighted squeals was like a
dagger through my sore head and running after him just made my feet hurt
more.

He got a simple tricycle (no pedals) for Christmas. Its actually a bit too
small for him really, being a tall fellow for his age, but he uses it
regardless and can hurtle down slopes at speeds that puts my heart in my
throat, but he loves it (and, I have to admit, can handle very well).

On days he doesn't go to daycare, it was becoming increasingly obvious
that
he needs to let off some of that energy toddlers seem to create without
any
effort whatsoever. So, as much as I entirely didn't want to do it, I took
myself, Cary and tricycle out into the front yard where he can ride his
tricycle up and down the driveway. The driveway is a long one, and it has
a
decent enough slope so he can get up the speeds he desires. I had hoped
that
I coud sit somewhere quiet so not to be on my feet and not to have my head
hurt more, and supervise him from a distance whilst he burned off hte
excess
energy and thereby not keep wiggling and squirming long after his bedtime.

It wasn't to be, however, and The Yowlet used the trike to take himself to
his
daycare, which is next door but one from us. Of course I had to go after
him, and found myself running across soft fresh grass with my bare feet.

I had totally forgotten just how good grass can feel under bare feet. I
chided myself, what sort of Paganesque person could I possibly be if I
don't
even remember how wonderful and refreshing just plain old grass feels
like?
But as said son took it upon himself to visit every single house on our
side
of
the street using his trike as an "excuse" I found myself drawing more and
more energy from the grass beneath me, and then the trees above me, and
hte
sky, and clouds and wind and sunlight.

And now, every day, I slip off my shoes and go walking in my favourite
patch
of grass, watching the clouds scud past. My son and I stand inthe puddles
and stamp our feet, splashing each other. We fling mud at each toher. We
watch the myriad of birds go past. See the different types of ants go
marching by (and sing the song that one has to when ants go marching by).
Its no longer just about burning off his energy so that I can go to bed
early, but now its time spent together, not *out*side but *in* nature. But
the best thing for me, after watching my son smile and laugh along with
me,
is to feel the grass beneath my bare feet again.

My head and feet are no longer as sore, and I don't fall into bed so
utterly
exhausted. The simple, uncomplicated magic of grass and birds and ants and
trees and wind and clouds and sun even rain is entirely underappreicated,
and I'm so glad my son reminded me of it. When on earth did I forget?

Yowie

Charleen Welton wrote:
Vicky, you write so beautifully that which is in your heart. It is no
wonder that you are so endeared to us, that we love your family so
much. We feel like you are our very best friend in the world and we
are yours. Thank you for that feeling. And thank you for this
wonderful story.
Charleen

For some reason, I just had a mental image of Cary, all grown up, 6 foot
plus, with his friends asking him why he's called Yowlett. ;o)
--
Adrian (Owned by Snoopy and Bagheera)
A House is not a home, without a cat.
http://community.webshots.com/user/clowderuk

Due to some dodgy concreting, there's a spot int he driveway that has a
puddle in it whebever there's even a hint of rain, or when any of the houses
ont he driveway waters their garden or even washes thier car.

I call it "the puddle in need of a boy" :-)

Yowie


"Irulan" wrote in message
. ..
so wonderful, Yowie. If you and Joel, as parents, can enjoy the feel of
grass under your feet, and the wind in your hair and the sun pouring down
on you, and you and your son can splash in water puddles with no
recriminations, then there is still a lot ok with the world.
Lily & her mama

--

Irulan
from the stars we come
to the stars we return
from now until the end of time
"Yowie" wrote in message
...
Work was busy, stressful and demanding. I came home with a headache and
sore
feet, exhausted and grumpy. Playing with Cary was a chore rather than
enjoyable, because every single one of his delighted squeals was like a
dagger through my sore head and running after him just made my feet hurt
more.

He got a simple tricycle (no pedals) for Christmas. Its actually a bit
too
small for him really, being a tall fellow for his age, but he uses it
regardless and can hurtle down slopes at speeds that puts my heart in my
throat, but he loves it (and, I have to admit, can handle very well).

On days he doesn't go to daycare, it was becoming increasingly obvious
that
he needs to let off some of that energy toddlers seem to create without
any
effort whatsoever. So, as much as I entirely didn't want to do it, I took
myself, Cary and tricycle out into the front yard where he can ride his
tricycle up and down the driveway. The driveway is a long one, and it has
a
decent enough slope so he can get up the speeds he desires. I had hoped
that
I coud sit somewhere quiet so not to be on my feet and not to have my
head
hurt more, and supervise him from a distance whilst he burned off hte
excess
energy and thereby not keep wiggling and squirming long after his
bedtime.

It wasn't to be, however, and The Yowlet used the trike to take himself
to
his
daycare, which is next door but one from us. Of course I had to go after
him, and found myself running across soft fresh grass with my bare feet.

I had totally forgotten just how good grass can feel under bare feet. I
chided myself, what sort of Paganesque person could I possibly be if I
don't
even remember how wonderful and refreshing just plain old grass feels
like?
But as said son took it upon himself to visit every single house on our
side
of
the street using his trike as an "excuse" I found myself drawing more and
more energy from the grass beneath me, and then the trees above me, and
hte
sky, and clouds and wind and sunlight.

And now, every day, I slip off my shoes and go walking in my favourite
patch
of grass, watching the clouds scud past. My son and I stand inthe puddles
and stamp our feet, splashing each other. We fling mud at each toher. We
watch the myriad of birds go past. See the different types of ants go
marching by (and sing the song that one has to when ants go marching by).
Its no longer just about burning off his energy so that I can go to bed
early, but now its time spent together, not *out*side but *in* nature.
But
the best thing for me, after watching my son smile and laugh along with
me,
is to feel the grass beneath my bare feet again.

My head and feet are no longer as sore, and I don't fall into bed so
utterly
exhausted. The simple, uncomplicated magic of grass and birds and ants
and
trees and wind and clouds and sun even rain is entirely underappreicated,
and I'm so glad my son reminded me of it. When on earth did I forget?

Yowie

"Adrian" wrote in message
om...
Charleen Welton wrote:
Vicky, you write so beautifully that which is in your heart. It is no
wonder that you are so endeared to us, that we love your family so
much. We feel like you are our very best friend in the world and we
are yours. Thank you for that feeling. And thank you for this
wonderful story.
Charleen

For some reason, I just had a mental image of Cary, all grown up, 6 foot
plus, with his friends asking him why he's called Yowlett. ;o)

Heeheeeheee.

I think it will be more embrassing for him when we try to explain another
nickname we have for him: "Monkey-butt". It was originally because he
climbs absolutley everything (there is nothing quite so frightening as
leaving son engrossed in Bear int he Big Blue House to dash off to the loo,
and coming back out of hte loo to see son at the top of the bookshelves,
grinning from ear to ear, especially when you know how much you paid for
said bookshelves (bugger all) and that they are not in any way secured to
the ceiling, walls or floor) but since he's also a cheeky monkey, it suits
him so well.

Monkeybutt's Mum

Yowie wrote:

Work was busy, stressful and demanding. I came home with a headache and sore
feet, exhausted and grumpy. Playing with Cary was a chore rather than
enjoyable, because every single one of his delighted squeals was like a
dagger through my sore head and running after him just made my feet hurt
more.
snip
My head and feet are no longer as sore, and I don't fall into bed so utterly
exhausted. The simple, uncomplicated magic of grass and birds and ants and
trees and wind and clouds and sun even rain is entirely underappreicated,
and I'm so glad my son reminded me of it. When on earth did I forget?

Yowie


What a lovely story! Thank you so much for sharing it with us!
Best wishes to you and your family,
Polonca and Soncek

Yowie wrote:

there is nothing quite so frightening as leaving son engrossed in
Bear int he Big Blue House to dash off to the loo, and coming back
out of hte loo to see son at the top of the bookshelves, grinning
from ear to ear

That's what happens when your child is raised, at least partially,
by cats.

Joyce

That is an absolutely magic post, Yowie. You have a wonderful talent
and an even better attitude towards life.

Tish

On Wed, 18 Jan 2006 14:58:13 +1100, "Yowie"
wrote:

Work was busy, stressful and demanding. I came home with a headache and sore
feet, exhausted and grumpy. Playing with Cary was a chore rather than
enjoyable, because every single one of his delighted squeals was like a
dagger through my sore head and running after him just made my feet hurt
more.

He got a simple tricycle (no pedals) for Christmas. Its actually a bit too
small for him really, being a tall fellow for his age, but he uses it
regardless and can hurtle down slopes at speeds that puts my heart in my
throat, but he loves it (and, I have to admit, can handle very well).

On days he doesn't go to daycare, it was becoming increasingly obvious that
he needs to let off some of that energy toddlers seem to create without any
effort whatsoever. So, as much as I entirely didn't want to do it, I took
myself, Cary and tricycle out into the front yard where he can ride his
tricycle up and down the driveway. The driveway is a long one, and it has a
decent enough slope so he can get up the speeds he desires. I had hoped that
I coud sit somewhere quiet so not to be on my feet and not to have my head
hurt more, and supervise him from a distance whilst he burned off hte excess
energy and thereby not keep wiggling and squirming long after his bedtime.

It wasn't to be, however, and The Yowlet used the trike to take himself to
his
daycare, which is next door but one from us. Of course I had to go after
him, and found myself running across soft fresh grass with my bare feet.

I had totally forgotten just how good grass can feel under bare feet. I
chided myself, what sort of Paganesque person could I possibly be if I don't
even remember how wonderful and refreshing just plain old grass feels like?
But as said son took it upon himself to visit every single house on our side
of
the street using his trike as an "excuse" I found myself drawing more and
more energy from the grass beneath me, and then the trees above me, and hte
sky, and clouds and wind and sunlight.

And now, every day, I slip off my shoes and go walking in my favourite patch
of grass, watching the clouds scud past. My son and I stand inthe puddles
and stamp our feet, splashing each other. We fling mud at each toher. We
watch the myriad of birds go past. See the different types of ants go
marching by (and sing the song that one has to when ants go marching by).
Its no longer just about burning off his energy so that I can go to bed
early, but now its time spent together, not *out*side but *in* nature. But
the best thing for me, after watching my son smile and laugh along with me,
is to feel the grass beneath my bare feet again.

My head and feet are no longer as sore, and I don't fall into bed so utterly
exhausted. The simple, uncomplicated magic of grass and birds and ants and
trees and wind and clouds and sun even rain is entirely underappreicated,
and I'm so glad my son reminded me of it. When on earth did I forget?

Yowie

Tish Silberbauer wrote:
That is an absolutely magic post, Yowie. You have a wonderful talent
and an even better attitude towards life.

Tish

Doesn't she? I think the earlier suggestion to submit that story to a
parenting magazine is a great idea. It was so neat to read, and you
could just imagine being there.

On Tue 17 Jan 2006 10:58:13p, Yowie wrote in
rec.pets.cats.anecdotes ):

snip
And now, every day, I slip off my shoes and go walking in my
favourite patch of grass, watching the clouds scud past. My son
and I stand inthe puddles and stamp our feet, splashing each
other. We fling mud at each toher. We watch the myriad of birds
go past. See the different types of ants go marching by (and
sing the song that one has to when ants go marching by). Its no
longer just about burning off his energy so that I can go to bed
early, but now its time spent together, not *out*side but *in*
nature. But the best thing for me, after watching my son smile
and laugh along with me, is to feel the grass beneath my bare
feet again.
snip

What tranquil thoughts I have just reading your story. Thanks for
sharing. Now, *my* grass, OTOH, is not safe to walk barefoot
through. You sink in due to moles, risk sharp pointy sticks from
the big oak trees that constantly lose them, and if you're really
unlucky, a bee sting or two.


--
Cheryl