For Posterity's Sake: Week in Review 82

"Don't you love New York in the fall? It makes me wanna buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address. On the other hand, this not knowing has its charms." - Joe Fox, You've Got Mail


I can smell the graphite shavings in the air. The neighborhood children's free form play has taken on the footwork of two-a-day football drills. Mothers are stashing school supplies. Teachers' hands are gloved in chalk powder.
Audrey has yet to start school, but I can feel it all around us: the rush and rumble of one season giving way to another. We have been carried in the tide, our own week of rush and rumble: preparations and anticipation as we carry on our business of squeezing every last drop of summer.
The first time I heard Joe Fox utter that quote, I had a goosebump moment and the urge to tie a ribbon around a handful of pencils. Each year as the summer growing season ends, fall brings on a new kind of growing: one requiring backpacks and binders (that we called trapper keepers) - storage for the artifacts of a year of learning to come. Even as we equip ourselves for fall and the school days to come, I find myself putting other things by - storing the moments left, the moments past, the best of the weeks gone by.
A few of our moments from last week:
On Thursday, Audrey spoke with a friend on the phone. This friend has a pet bird who had laid three eggs. Audrey (enamored with this bird) eagerly shared this news with her Mamaw.
"What color are the eggs?" Mamaw asked.
"I don't know. I don't live there," Audrey said.

We spent Thursday evening having dinner with my parents. As we drove home, Audrey yelled from the backseat, "All the good prophets run."

When we pulled into the driveway, Audrey said, "Excuse me!" Jason and I paused, waiting in the car for what she had to say. A few minutes passed in silence.
"Yes?" I asked.
"I farted. Papaw said I should say excuse me when I fart."

Friday, the family was snacking on graham crackers that Audrey knew had not been in the house the day before. Normally, Audrey goes with me to the store, but I had run out late the night before after putting her to bed.
"Did you get those when I was asleep?" she asked.
"Yes."
She was silent for a couple minutes. "It's okay if you go to the store when I'm asleep. I don't get scared because I don't know," she said. (After we laughed, Jason and I quickly explained that he had stayed at home with her and we would never leave her by herself, even if she was asleep and wouldn't know).

Fall, and school, and pencil bouquets are upon us, knocking at the door. But before they sweep through the threshold, we're going to cling tightly to these last few days of summer and sun and life unstructured. Because, soon, our littlest one will be pulling himself up and propelling himself forward and our oldest will grab her backpack and go off to be molded in ways we cannot know yet. But, this not knowing has its charms.

*There are a few more moments from the week I have to share with you, but I don't have the paper that I wrote them down on, so when I have it in hand, I'll have to add them in. I will be in and out of this space this week as we try to squeeze in as much summer as we can before it passes.

The ones I forgot:

On Monday, Audrey was holding a barrette. "This hair thing is a part of my life." Later, that part of her life got stepped on and broken after she left it on the floor.

Tuesday morning, she came into my bedroom very serious. "How do I get the ticklish off me?" she asked.