The three Elliots over for the day. The six children move like a small flock of birds, flicking in and out of the light. They carry the smell of cold dirt with them as they pass. Watt and I hunker down in our corner of the dining room, adjusting to life without dsl. In the end, I remember I'm in no hurry, when Tucker wishes I would stay past lights-out. Happy to sit in the dark with my boys and sing a little something to help them to sleep.
Telling: Streams & Logs