Annora, Timothy and Xander came by and took Brock down early in the day, Friday. I took a 4 hour post-call nap, packed the van, picked up my dad, stopped at the store and headed out of town with Curtis, George, Fannie May and Tater in tow. We arrived around 8pm. Where I found Brock running bare-footed through the rough, dry grass. The arches of my feet just ached with the thought of how many times his little soles were being stabbed by those random hard blades of grass, stones or sticks. But he seemed oblivious. He was free. That's what 2 hours from the nearest city, in the midst of 100's of acres of your own land will do; make you feel free. Curtis immediately joined his brother, cousin and dogs in their frolicking. I joined my siblings and father on the wooden Adirondack chairs facing the road, as always, cracked open a Leinenkugel and relaxed, with George in my lap.
As complete darkness set in, the massive amount of stars slowly appeared. If I had to choose the most remarkable thing about this little farm, it's not that my great, great, great grandparents settled here in the 1800's, it would be the stars. Anyone raised in the city, who only vacations in other big cities, has never experienced a true night sky. You have no clue how many stars are up there, hidden from the bustling urban glow. As a kid. we would lie on a blanket and count, and count and count. Eventually, we sent the little boys in to watch a movie, hoping they would just drift off to sleep. They left us alone for a moment, but soon, they were hungry, scared, restless. We got George down in my bed, Curtis in the Pack 'n play, Xander on the top bunk, and Brock successfully passed out on the couch in front of the TV. Dad was next to go. Then Brennan, Annora and Anne. I wasn't tired, damn nap and Starbucks Latte.