Thursday, January 27, 2011

A Very Good Day

I am so tired. So very tired. I wrangled the boy all day and then went to rehearsal tonight where I was brain dead and sucked, quite frankly.
But it was such a good day.
I learned something.
I learned that if you watch things through the eyes of a sixteen month old boy, you can see things you'd never, ever see as an adult and they can be pretty cool.
Some guys came to trim a tree across the street and I took Owen out to see what was going on and I was like, "Oh yeah. Great. Whatever. Let's go in. It's cold."
But he kept insisting that we go back out to see the "truck" and so I bundled us up and out we went and we sat, transfixed, the both of us, for about thirty minutes watching this guy go up into the tree and trim branches with one hand and he was an artist and an athlete and the guy on the ground knew exactly what to do and it was like watching a ballet and I swear- I think I enjoyed it more than Owen.
Oak branches can weigh hundreds of pounds and making them fall where they won't do any harm, being able to judge and cut and maneuver must take a lot of practice and a whole hell of a lot of skill. I was amazed.
Owen was too.

After it was all over and the tree guy was packing up, I told him thanks, that we had enjoyed it so much. He told me he has an eleven month old son at home and I think he really appreciated having an audience, especially the Owen part of it.

Well. That's all. My story about watching two men do their job, going up into a tree and slinging a chain saw around like I'd sling a bunch of keys.

I doubt Owen will ever remember it, but I will. And I'll also remember all the hugs he gave me today.

Boy hugs, a chicken cuddle, an arboreal ballet.

Yeah. It was a good day.


  1. Before we moved to the house we live in now, we lived near enough to the interstate that if I put Isabella in her stroller we could walk within about 50 yards of it. She would ask almost cars cars! She loved talking about the size of the cars, the color of the cars and how some were loud. Those were fun days. As are these.

  2. What a very fine day! I enjoyed reading about it, though I imagine not nearly as much as you enjoyed living it. :)

  3. Glad you had a good day, love the pic of Owen, he just looks so mesmerized by the goings on!

  4. We are again/still living parallel lives, with our tree men rhapsodies, only you have made your afternoon of watching into a whole chapter. Loved hearing about this day of yours. x0 N2

  5. I remember construction sites in New York City and the rows of strollers lined up alongside them, toddlers rapt and watching. I remember my own little boys -- how they'd sit on the front steps and wait for the garbage truck to come.

    I love how you described it as an arboreal ballet. Beautiful.

  6. I bet he will remember. My brother's first sentence was 'big axe chop down little tree!'

    Given that my father had cut down the tree it was all a bit Freudian, but ah well.

  7. Ah, the truck phase. I actually enjoyed learning about all the mighty machines (fun video series about trucks) with my boy. He was fascinated by cement trucks, which he called immence trucks. The joy of discovery is one of the best parts of being around kids. It's life affirming to see the world through their curious eyes. Have fun!

  8. I remember taking care of my nephew when he was about Owen's age, before I had children. You're so right about seeing things through their eyes. The joy of that is what made me want to have a child of my own.

  9. I know this feeling. Some houses were built in our neighborhood when Walter was 2-3 years old. We watched so much construction, and it was interesting for both of us!

  10. I love that he's holding a stick while he's watching. Getting the full sensory experience.

  11. True arborists are awesome. Hard to imagine them getting those huge oak limbs down.

  12. Excellent!

    We watch the binmen. They seem to love having an appreciative audience, too. I tell them thank you and the children wave and smile. Probably more than they get from most people.


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