5.24.2013

Nothing So Much as a Field of Cotton






I know I went overboard.  I can't help it.  It's almost like the Fancy Camera has a mind of its own when pitted against two small girls sitting on the lawn. It's all I could do to limit it to this handful of pictures.  Then I dragged it inside, chained it to the wall, and fed it only bread crusts and water for supper.

That'll l'arn it.

(Just between you and me, my faithful Reader, I think this blog would improve with a little snapshot-taking and snapshot-posting restraint.   What a shame that  my camera has no discipline.)

With my apologies, here's a spool of repetitive snapshots to unwind.




















 

























 






5.22.2013

You're Nothing but an Ostrich

You know you're a procrastinator when instead of cleaning the upstairs, which is literally shin deep in clothes to weed through and pack away, as well as all manner of weird flotsam from who knows where, you change your blog background.

I wouldn't do that, of course, but YOU would, I bet.

5.21.2013

Is Sweet and Heady Like My Love

(I guess I forgot to publish this one. Oops. Now I'm really done.)

The day the first lilac blossoms tentatively opened, the girls flew into action and filled half a dozen vases in under five minutes.  That same night, forecasters predicted a hard frost, and I was afraid it would kill all the blossoms like last year's snow had.






I needn't have worried. 

 







The blossoms survived and linger still, and the heady scent of lilac creeps into every open window.


 




I couldn't be happier.

 
 

Told You So

Look at me!  It's only been six days!  Hullo!  Howdy!   Hi, there!


(Don't kill me, Rebecca, but you asked for it.)


While Lying in the Hammock...







I took these pictures of our knobby-kneed wonder.






Isn't she something?


 

While Reading History to the Big Girls

I did mention I was lying in the hammock, right?   I just wanted to make sure.
Pity me.



Three's the Charm

  


I almost titled this "Three's the Chime" but thought that might drive you all away.  Mom O. gave me some clear-toned, silvery wind chimes for Mother's Day.  The first windy day, I hung them with the others in the cherry tree and then perched on the limb with a smile on my face.

 Wind chimes are my favorite, and I love sitting in trees.

 I love it yet more when the view is this.


 

Spring is for the Birds








In addition to preferring pink hair, Susannah paints herself with dandelions.  I remember doing the same when I was young and free.  














She also lost her first front tooth.  Three cheers for Birdie!

 

I'll Take One of Each, Please




 One of the singular beauties of winter is found in the sky.  Sunsets of exquisite color and composition spread over the uncluttered landscape nearly every night.

 Springtime sunsets aren't so shabby, either, though.  If I had to choose, I'd take both.



 

Folsom Prison Blues


After the dog warden picked him up and gave him an ignominious vacation at the dog shelter, we placed John Wayne on probation.  For a free-roaming country dog, a line in the backyard is not enough, but some days, the company makes it almost bearable.


Those Poor Saps...


who have to ride a yellow bus.




 At certain times more than others, the privilege of home learning hits deep.  The knowledge always sits somewhere at the center, but it doesn't always hit me physically.





Reading about the glory that was Rome while sitting in the sun and breeze, with grass on bare feet serving as counterpoint to both, causes it to hit viscerally in the most pleasant way imaginable.








If I enunciated loudly enough to one-up the wind (which I did), they could even fly kites!  I asked questions just to be sure, and a correct answer came muffled from the grass.









What a gift springtime hlearning is.



In Which We Befriend Mount Hunger




Lucinda wasn't convinced when we started the uphill loop homeward, but John was the one lugging them all, and he had no complaints.

Annika showed off her superheroic lungs by tucking in the tails of her shirt and jogging.





Ezekiel didn't have to do a thing except look cute.  It was my only request.




He does it so well, you see.





 What an overachiever...





After this brief pause for baby documentation, we jogged to catch up with the rest of the family.


 

Smother's Day





I don't particularly care for Mother's Day; I like to celebrate my Mopsy and mom-in-law, but now that I'm a mother myself, I sometimes dread the forced expectation for a day that, in reality, usually unfolds with a smattering of joy and grumps like any other.  The girls were sweet and gave me gifts and goodwill, but John was at work, and I was tired and grouchy, anyway.  (Scrooge.)

SMOTHER'S Day, in contrast, is the joyous and jolly day that falls the Monday following Mother's Day.  I think John invented it, but you may borrow it for yourselves if you wish. 

It was marked by a happy date with my Heart, for which we brought all our wonderful children, and during which John tried to initiate Ezekiel into the joys of coffee.  We used the gift card you gave us, Mom O., and I celebrated my family by eating a dozen rolls slathered in honey butter.  Then (because what else could I order on Smother's Day?), I enjoyed a plateful of smothered chicken.  You bet.

On our way out I took the picture below for our friend in Texas. :)

I am glad to be a mother-- glad beyond words-- even when it doesn't include a plateful of warm rolls dripping with honey butter, but I won't refuse them when they're offered.  

Because I'm unfailingly polite, that's why.


 

Easter Dessert





I forgot to post these pictures from Easter, but they're significant enough to post now. What's so special about lemons?  These aren't lemons.  For the first time in my life, I used proper key limes instead of common Persian ones to make key lime pie, and all thanks to the thoughtfulness of a reader-friend who has a key lime tree growing in her backyard.  It smacks of science fiction, but I've heard such climates exist!

It goes without saying that the pie was superb.  In my limited experience, most pies are.
 
 
 

Castaways

A few more pictures that belonged in that last Monster Post just shuffled into the room, full of  apologies.




 Su reads in a tree.  (Filthy feet.)

  



Su shows off a moth; Fruity uses the house as a glorified scratching post.






Annie makes a Roman road just like I asked and then populates it with fair-haired Romans and a sheepdog.