Monday

There is a book that I read to Snowdrop where everything, as far as the eye can see, is brown. I swear, the author must have spent a March in Wisconsin. Then on the very last page, a little boy steps out and the world is green.

I have this image in my head that things turn here right around the date of my birthday (April 21st). This is when I always remember the buds on trees popping with new life. The brown begins to co-mingle with a gentle green.

But this year, there isn't a question but that the world has turned green already, without waiting for my birth date!

And it's warm enough for breakfast on the porch, and that's just so wonderful!






And the daffodils are nearly at their peak -- against the backdrop of a thicket of green!






Snowdrop was out of school for spring break last week, but today she is back in full swing.

Has it only been a week? Everything about the world seems transformed!






A week ago, after school, we walked the neighborhood in search of blooming flowers and found the occasional crocus and bluebell -- little else.

Consider today's walk!
















I cannot believe the changes!


At the farmhouse, Snowdrop wants a little quiet time. That is, if you can call playing baseball with Ed quiet time.






There -- this is her sedative, her respite, her chill time: serving tea at her little table. I can almost feel her exhale.







After her nap, there's more indoor play. I'll include just one set of photos, where she cooks soup for her new chickens.






Wait. That looks threatening! Does the chicken understand that she is one step away from the soup pot?







Late in the afternoon, we go outside. The real chickens join us. Or, join her: they're convinced that she holds the key to chicken heaven.






I pick up my shovel and continue to weed the strawberry field. This is a big project for me as I've let the weeds take a firm hold in the last couple of years. Snowdrop understands I need help. She is more than willing to assist!






And she is, in fact, a terrific digger.






We work side by side until her dad comes to take her home.

The wind has picked up some, but the sun is still out. I glance at the daffodils. Golden and ivory. Perfection.