Yesterday one of Calla's lessons was centered around the poem Mackerel Sky. If you aren't familiar with it, it goes like this:
Mackerel Sky, Mackerel Sky,
Never long wet, never long dry.
I kind of rolled my eyes at the lesson. Mostly because Calla has NO idea what a Mackerel is. Nor does she have any idea why someone would call the sky a Mackerel sky. Not that she couldn't grasp that, but it was too much of a stretch for me to try to get her to understand it on that particular day. So after I asked her all the questions they wanted me to ask her and getting a blank look answer for all the questions, I said, "Say the poem with me . . . "
And we did.
Then this evening I happened to look outside. I love it when I look outside and see something that prompts me to say, "Wow, girls. Come look outside." In this particular instance it was a florescent pink sunset.
They all came running and Calla declared, "HOLY MACKEREL!"
I smiled at her and said, "It's your Mackerel Sky!"
I got a blank look. It made me laugh.
After four kids, ten moves and nearly two decades, we are still blissfully in love (most of the time) and I found myself back in the state I was born and raised in. It has definitely been a journey. In fact, on our 18th anniversary we pulled the last of our stuff up over the pass and into Montana, leaving our surprise love, Idaho, behind. But Montana is a great place. The last best place according to some. And we fully intend to explore as much of it as we can! Join us on our continued adventure through life, love and other stuff that comes with it.