apples never fall

In the car on the way to piano lessons, Tucker mentioned writing an opinion piece. He explained that he'd finished his personal narrative assignment several days in advance, and decided to write something else: 

One paragraph for everything I have an opinion about. It's gonna take awhile.

For several days after school Tolliver has pulled out the same old journal in which his original Quill the Knight saga began, adding chapters and checking in occasionally about words like plummet: One M or two, Mom? 

Yesterday the boys carried a library book about mushrooms into the woods and emerged a short time later with huge grins and bright yellow chicken of the woods. With Andy's approval they cleaned and sliced it into strips, dredged it in honey mustard and fried at the outdoor kitchen, raving about the flavor. Just like chicken.

I continue to marvel at our luck, boys who love to read and write and forage and try new foods.