"Please, please please!" Kate begged. She and her friends wanted to go to the creek behind our house to work on the swimming hole they're building. Although I now let Emma go alone with friends I still require an adult to be with Kate and her friends. The water, especially this time of year, is just too high and those little ones are all so small. Plus I worry the mountain lions will see Kate's lanky limbs flapping as she runs along the path and mistake her for an appetizer. So I cancelled my afternoon plans and off we went – down the path through the woods to the spot they've scouted out to be the best for a new swimming hole. There's a deep sandy part and a beachy area and they're working on a rock retaining wall that will keep the water in once the levels drop later in the summer. Ahhh, to be eleven in the summer. Carrying big rocks around in your bikini swimsuit without an ounce of self-consciousness. I wish she could stay like that forever.
As we walked home "Captain Hook's Ice Cream" truck came slowly up our street, jangly tunes piping from the speaker. The man who owns it comes about once a week during the summer, accompanied by his young son who helps hand out the frozen treats (he must be six-years-old or so). He's a really nice guy and actually does have a hook for a hand, since he lost his in a farming accident as a teen.
As soon as we got in the door the girls grabbed their money and raced outside to wait for him to come by our house.