Maggie is not as prolific as Griffin at this stage, but she also loves working at the art table. Below are a few of her recent creations (age 4).
Our next photo from our August 30 photo shoot at Franconia with Sarah Hudson. Click below for a larger version.
At dinner tonight, Maggie asked “How did animals came?” A few clarifying questions revealed that she was interested in how animals arrived on the planet Earth… literally, where animals came from. We talked a bit about microbes and evolution, but she wasn’t especially interested. After some consideration, she produced her own version. Here’s what she had to say (scrawled down verbatim on a scrap of paper at the dinner table):
The ground came.
The animals came from the ground.
And humans came from the animals.
Humans built houses and then
they lived in houses.
New career possibility: developer of creation myths.
We enjoyed a fantastic photography session tonight at Franconia Sculpture Park. This is the first photo we received from our photographer, Sarah Hudson, who was gracious enough to schlep all the way to Franconia with us for an epic session amongst the sculptures. Click below for a hi-res version.
Maggie and I were joking around this morning about whether it was night or day. She pulled open the bedroom curtain and pointed to the sky and said, “See, the sun is in the sky!”
I replied, “Wait, Griffin is in the sky???”
She rolled her eyes, “No! That’s not what I was meaning. The Earth has a sun in it. Not a kid son.”
I clarified, “The earth has a sun in it?”
“Yes,” nodding vigorously, “it’s what makes it day time.”
Update: During a recent bike ride, Maggie demonstrated more of her astronomical knowledge. The kids love biking around a circular paved area in front of one of the dorms at Macalester College. Maggie decided that she was “the sun” and biked in a tight loop in the center of the circle. Griffin and his friend, Zoe, orbited Maggie as planets. They whooped and hollered, arguing over who was which planet, while Maggie repeated, “I’m the sun! I’m in the middle!”
At some point Griffin got too close to her, and she shouted, “I’m super hot! I’ll burn you! It’s called a sunburn!”
Another lovely summer weekend at the cabin. The water was warm so we spent much of our time on or in the water. Many highlights of this trip escaped digital capture, including seeing young otters playing by the shore, a few sightings of a belted kingfisher, and a bizarre close encounter with a meditating cormorant (who remained standing on a sunken log unperturbed by Griffin approaching nearly within arm’s reach). Plus Daddy capsizing and emerging from the lake covered in muck. And a humongous man-eating water tarantula (that’s its scientific name) on the dock.
But we did manage to get a few shots. Click below for larger versions.
The counselors at Camp du Nord tell stories about an old troll, simply named Mrs. Troll, who lives beneath Angell Bridge. Our campsite lay on the far side of the bridge, so we crossed it many times a day, and we often tried to spot Mrs. Troll. Although we sometimes heard her, we never spotted her. Nevertheless, Mrs. Troll became a major feature of our conversations and quickly became a featured character in our bedtime stories.
I tried not to depart too much from camp canon, beginning with these basic facts:
From this we began spinning tales, and learned many new things about Mrs. Troll, and other characters. For example, she has a secret friend, a clever flying squirrel who keeps an eye on her and helps her overcome her problems. She likes to drink sour milk, but has ever so much trouble getting it home in her shopping bag. She sleeps on a bed of sharp stones, and becomes awfully uncomfortable if any of them get too worn; she hates soft spots, and rolls around causing earthquakes throughout the camp. There are other, less friendly trolls, who live elsewhere in the wilderness around the lake. They are strong and mean, but even Mrs. Troll can outsmart them to protect the camp.
At Maggie’s request, we discovered that there is a Mr. Troll, too — he is a prodigious fishertroll, usually sticking to regular fish, but capable of pulling whales, sea serpents, and dragons from the depths of the lake. In our most epic troll story to date, he was challenged to a fishing competition which nearly ended the world as he began yanking the Midgard Serpent out of the lake. Luckily his opponent backed down, so he unhooked his catch, forestalling the apocalypse.
We’ve been back for a week now, and the kids are just as excited as ever to hear new troll stories. Indeed, I have never seen Maggie so enthralled by storytelling. Her eyes grow wide with each new chapter, and she jumps in eagerly to provide key details or to correct me when I get something wrong. She also suggests story topics, especially when I’m tired and feeling less creative. Tonight, for example, I paused at the beginning of the story, trying to cobble something together in my head. Maggie jumped in, saying, “Daddy… maybe Mrs. Troll has trouble sleeping!”
“Ah yes, of course she does,” I replied, and so the tale of Mrs. Troll’s unusual mattress requirements was born.
Family camp? This was a new concept to both Sarah and Andrew, but we had been hearing wonderful things about Camp du Nord from families we know in St. Paul for a few years, so this summer was our first time giving it a go. We are generally a do-it-yourself family vacation kind of family, so the idea of going somewhere where we could enjoy being on a lake AND having our days filled with activities we didn’t plan sounded kind of dreamy. We were not disappointed!
Camp du Nord is a YMCA camp located near the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness (BWCAW) in extreme northern Minnesota, mere miles from Canada. Andrew and Griffin kicked off every morning with the “polar bear plunge,” wherein the doughtiest members of the camp all run screaming into the chilly lake. (For anyone who has done a real polar plunge, into freezing water, this was not really that bad.) After breakfast, the kids spent every morning in age-level activities led by an incredible group of counselors. Sarah and Andrew were gloriously free from all responsibilities during this time. In the afternoons we engaged in full-family activities, which included a canoe paddle to a nearby smaller lake where Andrew succeeded at his first canoe portage, Voyageur Days where the kids tried log rolling, and an all-camp hunt for the counselors who were hiding in the woods. There are cabins available to rent, but we opted for a tent site right on the shore of the lake where we slept and had breakfast and lunch. We took the advice of families before us and joined the full camp for dinner in the dining hall. A couple of evenings, we took advantage of the traditional wood-heated Finnish sauna, which always concludes with a dip in the lake! And every night, we fell to sleep excited and exhausted, ready to see what adventures awaited us in the morning.
Like all family vacations, there were smatterings of tears, whining, and impatience, but overall, we all agreed that we loved family camp and look forward to returning in the future!
Conversation between Griffin and Maggie, overheard just now from the front stoop:
“Maggie, pick up your popsicle stick and put it in the garbage!”
“Why?”
“Because if you leave it on the sidewalk it’s pollution.”
“What’s pollution again?”
“Pollution is when you hurt the Earth and soon all the air will go up into space.”
“Really?”
“Yes. All the air will disappear! You want air to breathe don’t you?”
<Thinking.> “But maybe I will float up to space with the air, and I want to go up to space!”
Earlier this evening we wrapped up a delicious celebratory dinner at Punch Pizza, one of our favorite neighborhood pizzerias, and were enjoying the delicious complimentary candies that come with the check. While walking back to the car, tragedy strikes: Maggie’s candy falls out of her mouth onto the grimy pavement. There’s no way out of this one—it’s well-past bedtime—she’s going to melt down completely. Sarah and I prepare ourselves to deliver platitudes about life and loss while whisking everyone home as quickly as possible. Maggie’s first wail, however, is interrupted as Griffin simply snaps his piece of candy in half and hands her one gooey piece. Her face lights up as she pops it into her mouth and says in a quiet, quavering voice, “Thank you, Griffin.”
