i really need to start taking more photos-- Rancho Cicada

wish i had visual documentation of our weekend at rancho cicada, east of sacramento. a windy road through grapevines and then down down into a dusty canyon. at the bottom is the most beautiful perfect green river--crystal clear water, smooth slate rocks perfect for climbing on, one small rapids for kids to go down, minnows, rafts, a huge swimming area. along the river there is a lush long green lawn with plenty of chairs, croquet, a hot tub, and there are little wooden and tent cabins along the river. at night from ours you hear the burbling of the river, peeping frogs. a friend's friend does a demonstration showing us how to start a fire rubbing sticks together. we meet a librarian, an e.r. doctor from sf general next door, a little girl who wants to be an entomologist, a dog who gives swimming rides, and a woman whose brother is the president of the NAACP. the two older guys who run this place lead a hike up river to a deep and dark swimming hole with a rope swing even i try. they keep two tortoises and 14 vintage cars in a barn on the property and seem very happy.

for not too much money we ate amazing catered food, and met so many new friends and reunited with so many old that the weekend flew by with the kids pretty much in heaven. two images--one is miles sitting alone for a long time, peaceful and still in his bathing suit on what he named "sun rock", a curvy huge slate poking out of the water above the rapids. another is more of a short film, at night in the dark under three long strings of lights about ten kids entertain their parents and friends with a crazy play which quickly evolves into them all doing their own thing. maya is spinning around in circles laughing like crazy and falling down, being crack puppy. miles is a scary wolf but the girls don't mind. one nine year old is doing a conga dance with her mom chanting " you don't make friends with SAlad" from the simpsons. one little friend is flying around the group being a night fury, another is waving a flashlight at kids, almost hitting them in the head as she plays the role of an evil person assigning them chores.

it is free enough that the kids can just wander up alone to the kitchen for breakfast in the morning, and safe enough that parents can simply say "can you keep an eye on my kid?" and no one minds at all. i spent some quality time in the hammock with myself, looking across the river and up the steep canyon wall of that golden grass, dotted with trees holding on the the sides. our friend who invited us here said she saw a mountain lion up at the top of the other side of the canyon one morning last year.

it's my birthday. my son who has been quite difficult this summer looked at me before bedtime and said "we haven't argued in three whole days, mommy." then he told me he loved me, i was the best, and i was exquisite. only one is true, of course, but these things are good to hear, and were a perfect birthday present.

goodnight.