When Little J sings Eenie, Meenie, Miney, Mo, I’m always surprised by how proud I feel when he gets to the part: My mother says to count to ten… That’s me. I’m the one he’s talking about. I’m mom, telling him to count to ten.
I still remember playing Eenie Meenie on the playground at Pinecrest Elementary, when we still lived in Woodland Hills. Laura Ingalls dress, Dorothy Hamill haircut, Buster Brown shoes and coat. My mother “said to count to ten” back then and it was my dad who “had a donkey” (inkey binkey bonkey).
Some moments I loved so hard that I squeezed them right into the memory keep-sake zone while they were still happening. Do you ever do that? You know that a certain moment is so great while it’s unfolding, taking shape, that you experience a full-fledged nostalgia for it, right while it’s happening?
I felt that this weekend as Uncle Mike showed us his brand new tricked out bike:
And on Sunday, when we participated in the Bocce Ball tournament to support the local School Fuel:
The light in the fall, that crisp something in the air, frames each moment and preserves the little special things we do in a perfect glass memory Mason jar for later. When I go to fetch them from the nostalgia pantry for later, nothing will have changed.
When I pop that lid, I invite you over to slide down my rainbow into my cellar door…
Hope you’re enjoying these crisp, clear days of autumn.