We have completed our 2nd full day in Sebastian, FL. The boys note--not with displeasure or anxiety, nor with ecstasy, but rather with something with the texture of equanimity, much like the first movement of Mahler's 1st symphony, to which I listen as I compose these words, at the beginning of a possible quest, and possibly to be aborted, to listen to Mahler's symphonies in order to see, as it were, what all the fuss is about--how quickly the days unfold.
Our regular visits have deposited memories and expectations--indeed delightful excitements approaching enthusiasm, much like the enthusiasm one might have should I decide to cease my exploration into very long sentences until I have devoted more care to the craft of writing, as much care, indeed, as Henry James may well have lent his craft even as he seemed to compose very long sentences, but whether they were any longer than a grand sentence of Woolf or Dickens is readily to be questioned, and it would seem unlikely that they would be as long as a sentence by Faulkner, though one would not call a sentence by Faulkner as grand or smooth or Woolfish but rather passionate or anguished or despairing--for Liam and Crispin.
"When will we visit Hale's Groves for Orange ice cream?"
"The zoo!" Crispin has reached the age of 5. He is now old enough to kayak. For years Liam waited to turn 5 to go kayaking at the zoo (a guided tour through the Africa exhibit with Enough Space between us and the lions so as to avoid alarming the lions); then he had to wait for his brother to turn 5. Crispin is supersuper excited to kayak. Liam is nonchalant (and also old enough to occupy himself if he really doesn't think he'd enjoy kayaking).
We scootered down the riverfront to the splash pad park, and the boys continue to have fun there.
At the playground Liam has visited since infancy, the boys and their dad climbed without anyone worrying about anyone falling. The wooden boat and castle--which Liam crawled about with such delight while Kelly and I spotted him with equal delight, even as it involved quite a bit of ducking and crawling and quick moves for us, and a few head bonks on my part, if not perhaps also Kelly's--are gone, perhaps victims of the Age of Progress, which involves removing from public spaces any Grave Threats such old wooden play structures that might contain a splinter (for those of you wondering about my use of Upper Case Letters, please be reassured that I have not bonked my head and fallen under the illusion that I am writing in German, but trust instead that I have read Winnie the Pooh and House at Pooh Corner so consistently with Crispin that I have begun to assimilate some of Milne's Stylistic Eccentricities, which bring a certain delight to his tales).
We have eaten at the Road House and the Golf Course with Grandpop. Liam and Crispin's interest in eating salad continues to impress.
We did revisit the mini golf and game room of last year.
We've gone swimming and are glad to have our wet suits along. Even though we are blessed with 85 degrees in the air, the water remains cold (at least to our feel). While one would be unlikely to confuse them with otters, Crispin and Liam show increasing comfort with the water, and their dad spends more time aqua jogging and exercising in the water, more time playing catch, and less time spotting two nervous swimmers who somehow never stay right next to each other.
Hiram's continues to serve the waffles the boys look forward to (and their dad eats the copious protein and veggie rich leftovers of the night before, as he looks back from the waffles). In more Grand Progress, civilians are no longer permitted to pour the batter into the waffle maker to make waffles themselves, possible because their is Great Fear that a splinter from the wooden play structures at the playground might have flown through the air to land in the batter and would pass unnoticed into the palate of the guest if Vigilance is Not Maintained.
I will let you return to counting your honey pots.
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