it's break and it's suddenly very warm and beautiful out, even hot for those who dress too warmly, like with an overshirt or long pants. i find myself tying that shirt around my waist or leaving it behind, shedding stuff, actually getting a tan as i sit & watch kids in public places. things are blossoming left and right, with many different shades of color working against and for each other everywhere you turn; i need a camera to record the kinds of colors i see splotched up against each other, and they change daily which also makes it interesting. granddaughter twins are here and when i'm holding one, and she cries, i can simply take her outside. the wind and the fresh smells hit her strongly and she'll be quiet while she figures it out; this often works for a while since going back in is another blast and it's all quite novel to a little baby. i feel like i'm showing them the world for the first time; it may in fact be the first time they can stand out there without bundling up, and just notice the colors, and just be out in the fresh air without being transported in it. i'm not sure they see the colors though. they have wide eyes, but don't focus too carefully.

i take the boys for a walk, and go under this road bridge where a babbling creek runs under and it's muddy and kind of cool and low; i yell at them not to slide down the mud and right into the water, but a certain amount of mud and water is inevitable in this kind of situation. later we walk down the wooded path to a place where a wooden footbridge crosses a tiny creek and right there they can go down into the larger creek where it's only about a foot deep, and cross over to a little stone island where they can walk barefoot; all this is while i sit on the wooden bridge and once again yell at them not to get too wet. we count the kinds of animals we see evidence of, but, to tell the truth, though we see lots of tracks in the mud i don't really know what all the tracks are of. dog? cat? raccoon? possum? not deer, deer are really huge, and i know them, but they don't go under the bridge, as far as i can tell. peeping frogs can be heard up and down the creek bed. some swamp is a little brackish and has apparently been wet for months or maybe all year. all this is a desperate attempt to get them away from the video games that have insidiously and relentlessly become their life. i don't tell them that, as they get older, they may run into the bad kids hiding out under that bridge or walking out into the woods to get away from being seen. we can see graffiti under there but can't necessarily identify it. they don't have to know everything. they like it and request to go back, even want to show their friends. i'm not so sure about that. for one thing, it's easy enough to fall in.

if i were truly resourceful i'd get lots of lumber and make a large stable tree house out in one of the major trees in the yard; i could teach them how it's done right, and then we'd have an outdoor fort that we could spend the good weather in. unfortunately i don't know how it's done right; it could lead to tetanus shots and kids fallen out of trees. the other problem is, i've never quite adjusted to what i consider "good weather" which is now until about late april, mixed in with tornadoes and drenching rains, and then in another window from about september until late october, a month and a half at each end, with the middle, may through august, downright intolerable. with this schedule it seems to me that i'd no sooner make the thing, than we'd have to go in for the summer, and not be able to use it. around the time i get organized to do anything, namely late march, or the end of vacation, and then we go back to school and get busy again; it's a vicious cycle, but if i'm lucky i get some onions planted at least, and maybe get their bicycles out there and working.

the other stuff, the screen play, the reading, the poetry, the publishing, the linguistics book, and the organizing, well, i've more or less put it off. you get these baby girls, so young they don't even cry when a big guy holds them, and maybe it's just as well, you hold them, and maybe see spring through their eyes. we saved a cat too; it's locked in the back room, awaiting shots and a new owner; in the background, the dogs sense it, they know something's up; they want to be part of everything. a jealous cat looks for her angle to jump up on you at any opportunity. but now, night falls, and everyone settles in for another round.