A tree dies in Houston

For a couple of months now, one of the huge oaks in our front yard has been dying. Its leaves rather quickly began to turn from green to an orangish-brown before even a hint of fall was in the air. Then, last week, one of its massive branches came crashing down on our neighbors' driveway, narrowly missing their car. We knew it was only a matter of time before it happened again, so the tree guys were called and yesterday, while we spent the morning at Dewberry Farm, and the afternoon playing with a new group of homeschooling friends at a nearby park, the oak was dismantled limb by limb (the husband said there were very precarious moments involving dangling men wielding chain saws)and, by the time we got home at 5pm, only a stump remained.

The mystery of the whole thing is that, in spite of the drought, the rest of our trees and all of the grass around the dead tree seem to be doing just fine. I suspect the roots of this one branched deep under the slab of our house and under the neighbors' driveway. It's all very Luke 8. The healthy tree in the good soil flourishing 10 feet away from the dead tree choked by concrete. What remains:

A couple of days ago, Helena fell and started crying in the front room. I was in the kitchen and went in to see what had happened. I asked Harper, who'd been coloring at the table, if she had seen the injury. She said, "WELL. She was running. In the House. WHICH is inappropriate." I told her I needed a little less editorializing and a little more fact recitation. "She fell. AND started crying," she said with Great Judgment and Reproach in her voice.

We had a great day at Dewberry, once I surrendered the crazy idea that I was supposed to try to keep our group of 40 all together. I got very few pictures, but trust me, there was Fun of all sorts. Harper always enjoys the rubber duck racing:

Helena (and her shadow) on the bouncy things:


Hudson racing in the go-carts:

One other thing I don't want to forget. On Monday night, the husband was teaching a late class, and Harper and Hudson asked if we could go outside and star-gaze after baths and stories. I said yes, grudgingly, because I say no ALWAYS to any requests to delay bedtime on days when I've mothered solo all day. Anyway, I realized it was a lovely night, and that I probably say no far more than I should, so we read two books to set the mood (The Big, Big Sea by Martin Waddell, ill. Jennifer Eachus, and On a Starry Night by Natalie Kinsey-Warnock, ill. David McPhail) and went out to snuggle in the hammock. It was all going fine until I scooted too far to one end of the hammock and then the hammock stand toppled over, landing the three of us and Sasha in a big heap on the ground. Thankfully, there were no serious injuries, though I have a bruise on my left arm where I took the brunt of the collapse. I laughed really hard, and I think the stars were adequately gazed upon.