High Waters

I said that this blog would be tales from our travels in the UK, and as noted by some, so far it has leaned a little heavily on more parenting type posts. Sorry :) will try and rectify with this one...

The wind has been blowing strongly from the south for 4 days now, as it often does in this part of the country. It brings with it biblical rain storms and the rivers that border our town are deep, torrential, rushing and overflowing their banks, flooding fields and roads in their haste to just get away to some bigger space.

That's just how I feel about us at the moment. We are bursting out of the little house on all sides, rushing helter skelter to get to a million places, with always more to be done right now, and almost unable to stop, so strong is the current of our hectic lives. Its Jamie that feels, and plays it out the most. This flood bursts out of him in both frantic, wild excitement and almost out of control crazy behavior with shouting, pushing, inability to stop the tide of words and jumping, crashing feet. Even Noah is squirmy and restless.

Parenting little boys is always so physically intense. I don't know if it works this way with girls, but I get accidentally kicked, pushed, hit, and squished so many times in a day I loose count. Where did you get that shiner under your eye?!? Honestly honey I don't know. Some days it a struggle to keep from being washed away by the current of their physical self.

Jamie is so full of energy right now that it literally explodes out of him several times an hour. He doesn't simply move about but throws himself, limbs flying, from place to place. Many times its as if he is simply unaware that his body has got just so long, and I get a stray foot or hand in the face (back, stomach, head, arm....)

So this blowy Saturday afternoon we down renovation tools, don't rush one more time to the hardware store, stop the work phone calls, put away some of the deluge of toys and head out into the country.

Here we have open fields, woods and trails 5 minutes by foot, in 3 directions, from our house. We head to the River Frome, that form the ancient borders to the town, and the aptly, if a little obviously named 'Blue Bridge'.
For the first full 15 minutes of our trek Jamie runs grinning ahead of us down the path. We are of course following the swollen river, and its as if he's racing it. We slow down a little to marvel at gates now under water, huge mud puddles, and wonder where the resident sheep go when their field is waterlogged. And then we stop to feel the ducks.

Maybe there won't be any out today, we warn Jamie. The river is going too fast - they can't keep up. But then we find them. For a few minutes they paddle with the same frantic energy we feel, desperately fighting the current to snap at the bread, but then let themselves wash to the bank, (there is still bread... why aren't they going after the bread?...they might need it sometime... don't the ducks know that they might not be prepared for whatever could maybe, possibly happen some time?? Yeesh. ) joining the other ducks, and tucking their heads under their wings. It is here that they stay not to be enticed out again by anything.

....ah ha.