Tonight Jack convinced me to drill a small hole through a stick he'd found so that he could insert a match and light it, thus making an Olympic torch. As you may not be surprised to hear, a match burns pretty quickly, so "torch" was an ephemeral status.

"No, Mom, I've got it! We need gasoline!"

"No, Jack, we're not pouring gasoline into a handheld twig. Thank you. Goodnight."

"Moooooooooooom."

"No."

30 minutes later, T and I are presented with this.

Another 60 minutes later, I check on the children to find that both have drawn red marker and black ink pen beards on their faces and are wearing Italia hoodies. Oliver is drooling onto his pillow-whilst gnawing on corn last night, another top tooth dislodged and so he is now minus his front four which is really pretty significant- and Jack is still awake which does not bode well for tomorrow, the final day of camp.

The good thing about camp ending is that I do not have to pack another lunch until next summer.

The bad thing about camp ending is that camp is ending and we have three weeks left until school resumes. LAWD! SO MANY HOURS IN A DAY!

I will seek refuge in the Nut who continues to be adorably imperious and delightfully plump, and I will continue to encourage anyone listening to vote not only Donald Trump off our island but also Ryan Lochte. At least he hasn't resurrected his grill.

Today I admired and photographed figs and also cooked the boys a lovely dinner that required no more than three teeth to eat and then made a rainbow carrot and raisin salad. The evening light glows so becomingly this time of year; if you can avoid the mosquitan bandits out for all your blood, you will be rewarded with beautifully lit, no flash photos.