"Owen Go Pishing"

All summer the ranch beckoned our return, so return, we did (at the end of August). We went back with our camper, four wheelers and fishing poles in tow and played one last time before summer's end.
We "camped" there. It was camping mama's way......where we bring the camper and sleep in it and fish and boat, but there is running water and flushing toilets, sinks for hand washing and a kitchen for when mama doesn't feel like cooking over the fire, and there are even wide open indoor spaces for letting babies down to crawl and for when it pours rain so mama doesn't go crazy locked up in the camper with 5 excited littles....it's really the best of both worlds for everyone.

Owen couldn't wait to go fishing, or "pishing", as he called it. While Chris had one of the big girls out, I found him in the back of the truck dreaming about his turn...

He finally got his own turn and he was one happy boy.

Grace and Chris fishing the creek.

Boating on the pond.

Owen played with these worms forever. I even looked over to see him touching one against his tongue and doing a little taste test.

I've written before about the ranch being a magical place. It holds a certain peace and solitude that fills your soul as you breathe in it's clear air, but that's not all....it may well be the only place on earth where the trees grow breakfast. They have since I was a little girl and they still do. Above, Emma is reaching for some zucchini bread from one of those magic trees. Their branches bear a variety of breakfast items from muffins and bananas to cheese sticks and those little mini-boxes of cereal that mom never buys.

There is always a little sparkle in those bedhead-pajama-clad kids' eyes as they excitedly scurry out to see what surprises the trees have grown while they were sleeping.