pack doggie, litter pointer, etc

P1070137The kids and I and some friends hiked today.  We were a bit premature for a profusion of wildflowers, which seems to have been delayed a week or so because of the crazy weather we’ve had.  Still beautiful, though.


That little guy was my favorite part.  Here he comes with his people up the trail, tail wagging, surefooted.  A little pack doggie!  I want one!

My nieces and nephews from Illinois have been visiting.  They’re just the cutest kids ever.  We went on a little nature walk the other day and they were just bursting with things to tell me.  My nephew really really wanted me to know that a radio station in Chicago talks about facts sometimes, and a very interesting fact is that like half of all waste disposal workers eat the trash they collect.

His next younger sister collected rocks in a little pouch in her shirt the entire way, then informed me when we got home that they were all for me!  For our house.  So now I have a little cairn on display.  And I have to leave it on display because she checks on it.  And they’re actually moving here permanently soon, so I’m thinking I’ll have a pile of rocks on my shelf forlikeever.

And the youngest, she found a long piece of pampas grass on the walk.  She says, “Aunt Shannon, do you know what this is?”

“Mmmmm……” I was trying to remember the name, I forgot pampas.

“It’s a litter pointer.”


“See, watch.”  She extended it, as if knighting, and pointed to some litter.  “Litter.”

And then she used her litter pointer to point out, oh, one hundred pieces of litter on the walk, so that by the time we got back home I felt a bit disgusted about living on an apparent landfill-type situation that I hadn’t previously noticed.

And they like to talk to me and ask me questions because I’m a sucker.  Like, “Aunt Shannon, what’s that?”

“Uhhh, that?”  I point to clarify.


“A door?”


And then, “Aunt Shannon, what’s that?”

“A towel?”


After several minutes of this I realize hey I’ve been to their house and they’re really smart kids, and they have lots of doors and towels.

But I don’t know how to stop.

I like the sound of their little voices, and talking to them.

I like being an aunt.  Being an aunt is way different than being a mom.

I don’t know why, but it just is.


About i said tennessee

Me, just me, in Tennessee

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