Summer: Sunday 6-30-24

The sun was out and it was a beautiful day. Sadly, geometry for Lucia (and Andrew) had to carry on regardless. While they toiled, Greta and I read in hammocks and then played gin and Chinese checkers.

After lunch, we went to the creek--both sides, the regular creek side and the other side with the lagoon. Farrah seemed to enjoy herself, bounding from rock to rock, wading in up to her belly, drinking copiously from the creek. A huge tree had cracked in half on the creek side; a stand of thin trees had fallen across the creek--perhaps recently--on the lagoon side. I spotted a small brown tree frog in the leaves.

We were all overheated after walking back from the creek, and changed into swimsuits for the pond. I decided it was time for me to float around the pond on one of the boat-inflatables--something I enjoy every year. Andrew was back at the house, so it was just me and the girls. I swanned in gracefully, pushing off from shore, then flipped onto my back to float. Glorious. It felt cooler on the pond. The girls were on the floating dock, and Lucia eventually floated over to me on a duck-inflatable.

We'd only floated together for about thirty seconds when Lucia shouted in a panic, "IT'S THE SNAPPING TURTLE! HE'S RIGHT NEXT TO YOU!! MOMMY, GO! GO! GO!" 

I went. Screaming bloody murder, I clumsily splashed and tried my hardest to reach the floating dock. My paddling was ineffectual. The girls were screaming at me, trying to help me by pulling me by my feet to the floating dock, which I finally heaved myself onto. Lucia hugged me.

Note that Andrew did NOT even bother to emerge from the house during this bedlam. When asked later why he didn't come out to see if we were okay, he said "there's always a lot of screaming," which isn't wrong.

Safe on the dock, we navigated to the turtle and watched it swimming lazily, prehistorically, in the water. Its claws are huge, with long, sharp nails. Its head just breached the surface. It's not as large as a snapper we've seen in the past, suggesting/confirming the presence of more than one snapper in the pond.

It was a terrifying experience. The kids hauled the dock to shore, where I jumped off. Then they CONTINUED TO SWIM IN THE POND. Although I thought this was insane, I didn't want to discourage them; if they're not afraid, I don't want to make them afraid (she says, throat raw from screaming over the turtle). Alas, I myself will not be returning to the pond unless I'm safe on the floating dock. If only our pond could be clear, chlorinated, and cement-bottomed. The frogs could stay, and the more picturesque pond-flora (cattails, wildflowers, a few of the lilypads with small flowers). A girl can dream.

Our cousin came over for dinner, and we sat outside. The fire pit helped control the bugs, which are copious because of all the rain we've had. The girls ate with us then went around back to swing and experiment with the drone. Later, after dark, safe inside, the girls and I played two rounds of Rummikub.

What We're Reading:

Margo: Finished Margo's Got Money Troubles by Rufi Thorpe; started The Upstairs Delicatessen by Dwight Garner

Andrew: second volume of Proust

Lucia: A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas

Greta: Finished Powerless by Lauren Roberts (she is wildly obsessed), started Practical Demonology by Claire Rees