With the recent dusting of snow and the consistently cold temperatures, I think biking season is over. This means I have already taken my last ride with Ess on the front handlebars. It gives a dad watery eyes: the first realization of this, and then typing up the thought now. It’s hard to see something that brought so much joy be taken away by dispassionate, objective time. It makes you feel small, powerless, helpless. Mykala anticipated this day six months ago, and when I wasn’t thinking of taking a bike ride this past summer, she was, and got us out for jaunts I wouldn’t have even thought of. Even Ess helped out: asking to go on rides when I least expected it.
After an amazingly long time facing the back of the car (over three years!), this is the day after Ess said she wanted to face the front. Shortly after this was taken, she saw the windshield wipers going for the first time, and literally was squealing with delight watching them swish swoosh back and forth across the windshield.
Ess did amazingly well at the State Fair this year — loved the talent show, tromped around with us for a good four hours. Tough view for her though, seeing thousands of people’s knees.
When I’m older, this is probably how my brain will remember every single time we went to the playground: perfect summer evening, sun setting making everything glow, Essie having the time of her life.
The Washington County Fair had a charming butterfly booth staffed by volunteers, many of whom also worked at the U. That’s why Mykala and I liked it. Ess liked it because they had awesome butterfly wings.
Ess and Mykala went to the Bluegrass and Old Time Music Festival when I was gone, and it turns out it was unbelievably hot there. Ess was melting. Mykala was melting. They went home and got cooled down.
