Pastoral Wandering and Wondering

Thus far this week, all my photographs are of farmland in neighboring counties.  Today is no exception.

That field above is near Freeport.  See yesterday's post for the relevance of Freeport Landing to the Chesapeake Bay family.  

I promised myself I was not going to mention that German ancestor leaping off the boat again. Not once.

The shots below are from the Shackelfords area.

I spent first through sixth grade at Gloucester Day School (now Ware Academy, formerly my grandmother's store and my mother's home) with a boy whose last name was Shackelford. One day in first grade I chased him through the playground until he tripped and fell.  In his moment of weakness and embarrassment, I kissed him.

He looked mortified. 

Whether it was from the fall or from the kiss was never made clear. 

Something I'd like to make clear is that I kissed him on his cheek.  

And then I ran away. Mortified.

Please enjoy these bucolic scenes.

I am intrigued by the word "bucolic."  I sort of like it, and often find myself repeating it over and over again for no good reason.  But if I dwell on it too terribly long, it reminds me of "colic,"  which reminds me of another boy whose cheek I kissed many times.

A tiny boy who also had a look of mortification: Chesapeake Bay Son as an infant.  With colic.

It was not bucolic.

It may, however, have been "broccol-ic," which loosely translates into "brought on by eating the wrong thing."

This week, barely halfway over, has been brutal.  The next month or so ahead promises to be equally chaotic.  Whenever I am giddy from exhaustion and stress, posts become riddled with ridiculosity and words such as ridiculosity colic appear in the same sentence as bucolic.

For the one reader who might still be awake might be wondering if Chesapeake Bay Woman hasn't finally gone off the deep end, rest assured she has she's just tired and her brain works in delerious ways.

Now, to divert attention from this ramshackle post, a few questions for you, my one remaining reader:

• The Shackelford boy from the first grade is my first memory of kissing someone.  What were the circumstances surrounding your first kiss, even if it was only a peck on the cheek?
• Do you have any stories to share that involve the word bucolic?  How about colic? Frolic?
• Happy Wednesday. Are we done with this week yet?