I am reading a fascinating book called Braiding Sweetgrass. In it I have learned that in comparison to English, where approximately 70 percent of our words are nouns, in Potowatomi approximately 70 percent of words are verbs. Land "hills", flowers "red", water "bays". And time "Saturdays".
While it was busy Saturdaying yesterday, we did a lot of the normal things. Watched online church, assisted children through big meltdowns, played at rock climbing and eating wild strawberries at Iron Horse State Park.
It was at bedtime when things got interesting.
After dark I went outside to retrieve my sheets from the laundry line where Jared had hung them to dry after an emergency laundering in the morning, to discover a deceased rat on the patio. I am sure that prior to its end it was our next door neighbor. The cause of death and reason for location in my yard were unknown. I called the kids out of the bath in case they wanted to see it, and both my mammal-loving girls were quite intrigued and watched in their birthday suits as I buried the unfortunate little fellow. All of this to say we were running later to bed.
Eventually we were all in the kids' room in the dark. Jared was lying next to Lazarus in the bottom bunk, I was sitting on Laurel's bed, contemplating transferring her sleeping self from my lap to the matress. Anne was thrashing around on the floor, due to the top bunk being warmer than she wished and seeking connection with her parents, who were, frustratingly, attending to small siblings. Around midnight, Anne suddenly remembered that she had left the Honda unlocked on the street with the keys in the ignition and the audio book churning on the CD player. Jared went out to size up the situation, and thankfully the car was still there and there still seemed to be charge in the battery. This was also an oversight on the parents' part as neither of us remembered to check on the car after Anne had finally made it inside at the end of our State Parks adventure.
Eventually I joined Anne and NASA in the top bunk, where my presence was requested, to help Anne set her alarm clock (no particular need, just a routine she has recently decided she wished to impose on herself) and lounged with her while Jared told her Silly Day.
Not quite enough yet, so we migrated to my bed in front of the fan where she thrashed about some more until her love cup was filled and she headed off to her bed to sleep.
All through this we kept calling Feathers at the doors, not having seen her in hours, and assuming she had slipped out to the wilds beyond. Worried with no sightings...
At 2:30, Jared and I were both awake to the sounds of shouting, and we walked outside to determine the source. We spotted some sort of domestic (perhaps custody?) dispute a couple of houses north and called the police to assist. Shortly a couple of cruisers pulled up slowly and quietly, and the polite, well-trained officer who was there first stepped out and began by asking the individual on the front porch whether she had any weapons (which she did not.) I used the chance to look around again for Feathers, and this time when I called her she responded... from my bedroom window. So she has been sleeping under my bed the whole time!
Finally went back to bed and eventually fell asleep amidst the last of the illegal fireworks exploding. I assume tonight will be an impressively large showing of illegal fireworks and attendant house fires, as the Renton show is cancelled for the second year in a row in hopes of keeping the Covid crowds down at Coulon on the lake.
