Namaste

It's that time of year in the south! Our house, the park at which we play, and the roads on which we drive are surrounded by white fluffy cotton.

This scenery is one of the many benefits of moving out of the military town and into the country. Unfortunately, we don't see autumn leaves in this part of the country; every tree is evergreen pine. But there is plenty of cotton in autumn!

It's almost harvest, so it won't be beautiful like this for much longer. At the park, me, J and C went over to a cotton field, and (sorry Mr. and Mrs. cotton farmer-we'll pay you if you tell me who you are) picked a fluff out of it's brown crusty ball.

The boys loved feeling how soft it was and rubbing it on their faces. I tried to explain to J that cotton is used to make his shirt and pants, but he looked at the cotton, looked at me, and it was clear that he didn't believe me. He just squinted, held up the cotton fluff and said, "shirt?"

I had to tell J that the cotton needed to go "night night" in order to get him out of the field. He wanted to pick as much as he could and rub it on his skin. So now, whenever we pass a cotton field (every 10-15 seconds...) J says, "Night night, cotton," and rubs his face gently where the soft cotton touched it this day.

I wonder how long it will be before they grow up and won't appreciate afternoons like this anymore.