Rasmus carries August on his chest. My growing belly makes it hard for me to wear the carrier now. We walk home and it takes longer than we expect. As usual we have wandered far. Our baby boy is asleep and hanging limp on Rasmus by the time we reach the cabin. We carefully undress him and lay his tiny body down under layers of warm blankets. With cold, stiff hands Rasmus and I make a fire in the sturdy, one hundred year old fire place and let the heat sink into our cold skin. We are lulled into a trance as we sit and gaze at the hypnotic flames lick the blackened chimney. Time moves quickly. When August wakes he sits content in my arms and reaches his little hand toward the glowing warmth of the flames, giggling when he feels the heat on his palm. Our morning has ended and the afternoon has come.
For those who haven't seen, here is a small interview I did for the wonderful blog and kind creator of barefoot and frolicking.