Go Fly A Kite

The air has a definate springtime feel to it. I think it has to do with the wind having a well not warm, but mild edge to it. I'm quite a connoisseur of wind living where I do on looking out across the Pacific. Also the Vast Tract of Jungle Lawn has begun to grow again which means Spring is Here. I hauled out the lawn mower, gave it an oil change and started it up. The engine caught and roared to life and the children poured from the house, then turned ran into the house and came back out again wearing their coats. It was not cold but windy and soon everyone's cheeks and noses were bright red and eyes were sparkling.

I mowed the first large rectangle, trudging up and down the hill that comprises our front lawn. It is steep enough to be a workout but not so steep that you have much reason to complain without sounding like a weenie. The kids got bored of following me in ever decreasing rectangles so they found sticks and started hitting pinecones into the ditch. I finished my rectangle and decided that I was sick of marching in shrinking rectangles also so I got out a kite instead.

The Kite looks as if my four year old drew and colored a butterfly. It is black and yellow with screaming pink on the wings. The wind soughed through the trees and every now and then a gust would catch the kids' pinecones and skew them to the side before their sticks could connect - a good kite flying day. All the kite flying days of my kidhood seem saturated with sunshine, but there must have been some days like today - a brisk wind and rain clouds high overhead moving fast enough to pass you by.
I remember at least one session of flying my dragon kite until it rained.I remember reeling it in as fast as I could because I was scared to repeat Ben Franklin's tango with electricity.

The Muralist immediately ditched her sticks and came to help with the kite and a few minutes later the Verbalist did as well. Kite flying is a learned skill and it has been many years since I whiled away an afternoon getting a kite aloft. At last the Verbalist abandoned us to navigate the wind, he was too emotionally invested in the outcome. Everytime the kite crashed to the ground he flinched and looked for broken peices so he stoped watching and got out his bicycle instead.

The Muralist and I flew the kite awhile more and at last she too abandoned the kite for the allure of bicycles. There was a squwak from the girls' room and I went and got the Littlest up. She barely waited to be shod and coated before she ran laughing for the outdoors. She scooted with the older two then I got out bubbles for everyone and they held their wands to the wind and let the wind whip the bubbles across the yard at terrific speeds while the dog tried to catch them all.

Tired, hungry and chilled we trooped back into the house and washed up for dinner.