Swinging in the Oak Trees

So we had this huge dinner tonight. It was pasta with bacon, scallops and shrimp in a tomato reduction followed by leftover birthday cake. We decided to take a walk afterwards into Bailey Canyon. We like to go to the oak grove and swing from the rope swing. When we got there IT had happened again. Someone had thrown the swing up into the branches and there it was, stuck, wrapped around twice, unreachable and unuseable. The kids were disappointed. Robert sprang into action.

He found a branch the size of a small tree and carried it over to the towering oaks. We laughed when he picked it up by its “handle” which promptly fell apart. This old rotten thing was at least ten feet long, hollow and rotten and heavy and awkward and it was hard to believe he’d even attempt to get that swing down with it.

But he tried. He got up under the branches and held that thing over his head. It barely touched the tip of the swing before falling down to the ground. So he took the garbage out of the public can and dragged it under the tree. He got on top of it and surfing it like a skateboard he balanced that big old branch over his head like a bat. It took swinging and falling and sweating and laughter to even move that swing but he did it. I managed my giggles while he managed that branch and I knew without a doubt he’d get that swing out.

But it wasn’t so easy. There was a tiny little twig blocking the swing from coming down. It was so small, really, a very new little growth that created just enough of a wall that Robert Mountain Man and his gigantic trunk bat couldn’t manage to break past it. At least not at first. We chorused in time with his efforts, “HEY Baattteeerr. HEY Baaattteeerr. HEY Battabattabattabattabatta SA-wiiinggggg Battaaaaaa….!!” And he swung. And he swung and he sweated and he fell and we laughed and he got back up and swung again.

Eventually, just as I knew he would, he got that swing down. He triumphantly made hero status with all three of the little ones. We celebrated with three turns each swinging under the oaks before heading back to the ranch.

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