Eclipse

Emma: Dad, do you know what the man in the moon is eating?
Chris: Cheese?
Emma: Nope. Strawberry shortcake. And the strawberries are all floating into outer space.
Chris: How do you know that?
Emma: I just know about things like that.

We really enjoyed the eclipse this evening. We pulled out the ol' telescope and the pajama-clad kids put on their shoes and we enjoyed the excitement of being outside in the dark, way past bedtime. We spotted Orion, our winter friend, and the kids used the swings (it's fantastic how much louder that squeaky swing seems after dark), and we all seemed to have so much to say.
I love using our telescope. It's one of those things that forces you to slow down. You don't just set it to a channel and leave it there like a TV. You have to turn knobs and adjust lenses and work constantly to keep the view you want (you know, because it's all moving around and so are we). It's a lot of work to put it all together, so taking our time with it sort of honors the process, I guess.
The eclipse itself was gorgeous. I know it's just an illusion, but I am always amazed at how the murky shadow seems to squeeze all of the moon's brighteness into a tiny, concentrated, brilliant sliver.
We ended up having to send the younger ones off to bed a little before the total eclipse, but we only managed it by promising to fetch them when "it" happened, if they were still awake. Which pretty much guaranteed that Drew would be awake.

Me (amazed): Honey, I'm sitting on the swings, bathed in moonlight. Well, maybe it's just the light from the alley streetlight.
Chris (patronizingly) No, honey. That's the moonlight.
Me: Thank you.

And Drew was awake when we checked. He came tumbling out the back door, and put his shoes back on all in one motion and enjoyed watching the remaining light disappear. Just at the end, though, a bank of clouds drifted past and we had to catch the last bits through the gauze-y windows that graciously opened in the middle of the bank.
It seemed that I had more to talk about today - several days are all bunched up in my brain - but I think this is enough. A lovely evening, just cool enough for a cardigan over my jammies, spent in the dark backyard with my kids, swinging on the swingset and singing "Stardust" to the neighborhood. But not loudly enough to garner any complaints. It just seemed like it was the right thing to do.

DAILY BLISS: coconut rice and new grapefruit/rosemary soap