#27

I wish my kids could play outside until the street lights come on like we did. If they play on the driveway while I watch from the kitchen, I give myself the nervous runs. I'm so paranoid. Plus, also, the world is full of whackjobs and children aren't safe. George's dad would just come outside and give a mean whistle that found George wherever he was on the block or in the bayou and he'd run home. That's George's house behind the grand pyramid in the picture. He was our across-the-street neighbor. Those boys in the picture are our cousins, by the way.

Since I replaced my fireplace with windows, I can see into the backyard from the living room, so the kids are allowed to play out there without me. Which is the only way they'll get to play out there at all. It is soggy and hot or soggy and cold and/or buggy, and now that it is gorgeous I have allergies; I hate it out there. Anyway, I can open a window to hear them and holler at them, and I can see them ever time I glance up. Listening to them out there makes me so happy; it sounds just like how I played outside as a child. Thank the behind-us neighbors who gave us their swingset!