Catch

 There are some February 10ths in which we spend the whole day going in and out of the garage, taking turns to shovel out the driveway because it is blizzarding and we need to keep the driveway clear. The snowplows keep on filling up our driveway apron, and you want to move all of the heavy stuff out before it freezes in place.

This year's February 10th almost hit 60 degrees. There were some patches of warmish rain, but for most of the day you could find some genuine yellow sunlight if you stood outside long enough.

I played catch in the backyard with the boys for an hour, and I hope that my Dad enjoyed playing catch with his sons on an unseasonably warm winter day as much as I did with mine. (I have very specific memories of playing catch in fall weather with my Dad, avoiding the work of and the physical obstacle of the unstacked pile of firewood by the cellar doors.)

James, who can easily throw the ball the entire length of the backyard now, is a great sport. Owen zigged and zagged and enjoyed "covering" people as much as any of the throwing and catching he did. Felix caught some balls but mostly used the game as an excuse to roll around on the muddy ground. He started the day in a blue raincoat with blue pants and a red hoodie. He ended the day in a brown raincoat with brown pants and a brown hoodie.

They also tracked in mud whenever they came in and outside. There is a permanent line of discoloration on our walls and door molding at about the three foot line...where they put their hands when they turn into the kitchen, run up and down the stairs, or brace against the wall to take off their shoes. (Just kidding, they never take off their shoes. They just clomp bits of mud all across the hardwood.)

I didn't care. It was just nice to throw a football around in the sunshine with three happy boys. 

It ended in tears, as it always does. Owen pushed Felix harder than he intended, and Felix now has an enormous goose egg on his forehead that hasn't quite stopped bleeding. I gave him a baggy of ice to hold against his head and told him it would keep the bruising down. He put his muddy feet up on the kitchen table and sat with the bag open on his lap, picking out and eating the ice cubes with muddy fingers.

They've had a great day.