Sunday

I look up at the early morning sky, split evenly between threatening and promising and throw out this question -- are we done already? Have you had your interminable pout and tantrum? Can we proceed to the gorgeousness of a warm spring?






Of course, the sky takes this opportunity to dump something on the ground -- for a few minutes. Then it looks okay again. For a while.

 (The daffodils stubbornly refuse to show their colorful faces until they get some honest sunshine, even as the day lilies continue their upward surge.)





I suppose if given the choice, I would pick what we had this year -- a wonderful early early spring and a somewhat cold and wet period thereafter. You're so sick of winter by March that you appreciate the sudden and unexpected pleasure of feeling warm and buoyant. Too, this period is only a clean up stage in yard work. It's too early to plant or even divide anything. If it has to be cool and wet -- early April is a good time for it.

But listen! The second half of April begins next Saturday and the Flower Factory, for decades now my faithful supplier of perennials, opens its doors then. And well it might! We are promised sunshine and warm air for this truly grand event.

In other words, I'm asked today to be patient. To ignore that pouting sky that throws down stuff on and off all day long. To work side by side with Ed when things settle down up there (the usual: we clear, throw chips, weed etc, with the active participation of the cheepers, whose scratching habit is ferocious right now). And occasionally to retreat and work on sprucing up the inside of the farmhouse (including rearranging furniture to accommodate the arrival of the small chairs and table for Snowdrop).

These then are the rhythms of this Sunday. (After a leisurely breakfast in the front room, with Ed gazing at the flower bed we installed this past week.)







An afternoon coffee break, recorded here because it brings color to an otherwise gray day...






And then very quickly, it's evening and Snowdrop arrives with her mom for Sunday dinner at the farmhouse.





I almost don't get the dinner plated. The girl wants to be involved!

Fine. Here's a bowl. And a spatula. Mix!






Am I doing a good job??






Dinner is  ready. Time to cut the bread. In the alternative, let's put Snowdrop in charge of the bread.






Snowdrop loves baguettes!






Dinner's fine too.






One last photo. Three generations. Missing is my younger girl. We'll get her in here soon enough!