I know this door features almost as predominantly on shotsnaps as do the girls themselves, but many of the sights I see in a day involve children looking out the window with longing or children impishly peering in from the opposite side of the glass.
I took these pictures of Annie as she sat on the back step, talking to me about the big bug she was watching. I tried to delete some, I really did, but my motherly bias froze the ruthless part of me when I tried to cull even one. Here they are. (Have mercy.)
This is right before she noticed the bug.
Then she noticed it.
And she watched it
And talked about it
And then smiled.
The pool water wasn't nearly wet enough, so the girls traveled garden-ward, that they might fight the Water Dragon with their bare hands and only one metal shield between the two of them. (I remember doing the same with my brothers, only we would also arm ourselves with swords forged of garden stakes.)
You needn't think they lack foresight, though, because before the battle, they did provision themselves with snacks.
I delayed starting the other baby gifts I NEED TO FINISH SOON in order to mend a fierce rip in Millie's quilt. I was just going to patch it with a giant square of green, but just before doing so, I thought it would be more fun to give her quilt a name tag.
These haven't arrived at her door yet, but I decorated a white onesie with thread and made some little booties for Anna. I'm hoping her mama is too busy to check my blog anymore, otherwise I just stuck my present-giving foot in my mouth. (...Or whatever the equivalent of a verbal slip-up would be in the electronic realm.) I used Heather Bailey's pattern for the felt booties and added my own embellishments to match those that I had embroidered on the onesie. Her mom says she looks good in fire-engine red, but I found that onesies in that shade are rare...
p.s. Those are lollipop flowers. Sweet-- get it?
We went on a walk to the park. (Even though that pithy sentence about covers it, indulge me by permitting superfluous commentary...)
I wanted to take a picture of this barn, but Millie slipped into the picture, so now it's a picture of Millie and the barn.
Here she is in the field. Every time we go to the park, the five-minute walk stretches much longer with explorations into field and bush.
Millie just discovered the magical existence of port-a-johns, thanks to John unveiling them to her at the Irish festival. The audio accompaniment to this picture taken at the park is Millie shouting, "LOOK, MOM! It's a BATHHOUSE! A BATHHOUSE! LET'S go INSIDE the BATHHOUSE!" (I think she has your bathhouse, Heidi, confused with port-a-johns.)
Before we left, I tried to take a picture of us all with the timer, but I obviously need some practice, because the shutter closed when we were in the middle of our peacock dance.
Then we came home, and Annika was stung by a wasp. She thought it was a mosquito, though, and kept sniffling about her bug bite.
Out of the blue last week, John brought home the most beautiful roses I've ever had, large and sweet-scented. Usually, when he brings home flowers, I just take a picture of the girls enjoying them, which I did...
but later that day, Becky came over, raved over them, and encouraged me to take more, so I did. Blame her, not me. The following is her fault!
Hush, little baby, don't say a word
Papa's gonna give you a mockingbird.
And if that mockingbird don't sing,
Papa's gonna give you a diamond ring.
And if that diamond ring don't shine,
Papa's gonna give you a golden mine.
And if that golden mine pans out,
Papa's gonna give you a rainbow trout.
And if that rainbow trout swims away,
Papa's gonna give you the break of day.
And if the break of day turns to night,
Papa's gonna kiss and hug you tight.
I sing the girls lullabies most nights-- old American folk songs, their own special songs I made after they were each born, and sometimes traditional songs that I can't remember the lyrics to. I couldn't remember more than the first two stanzas to this one, so I made up the rest one night as I sang, and it's stuck fast like a burdock. Some nights Mildred requests yet another version, so I have to again sing fresh lyrics as I go, but this is what automatically comes to mind now. Until tonight, I didn't know that the original version used "Mama." I like it with Papa better.
It is good to be joined in both the good and the bad, the light and the sad, to my best friend- my children's good father, a Papa par excellance.
There is little in life more satisfying than working and playing in the rain. I love storms in any season, but I was especially glad for the one that arrived last week. I'd been working in the sun for an hour and a half, with sweat rivuleting from my head to my feet, when clouds blackened the blue, and rain came down. The lightning was still distant enough for me to continue working with my head tilted back to catch the drops, and so I did.
Becky used my camera to take pictures of the girls and tuzzins enjoying the shower. I like all of these pictures, and so I post. And post. And post.
Millie with the everpresent basket.
Candida filling the elephant basket with kittens.
I love these two shots of Hannah in color, but after I converted them to black and white, I might like them even more.
Their relationship rushes from bosom friends to bitter enemies and back again in a space of seconds.
Becky must have done something outrageously funny in order to get these faces.
And a posed shot of the momentary pals.
Candida rushing through the woods to reach grandmother's house before the wolf does....or something like that.
Millie by the swing set.