avoiding the big storms

We have been lucky. Storms pass through to the south, to the west, to the east. We have seen little of them thus far. True, we eat breakfast on the porch today while the clouds rumble loudly not too far off, but none of the damaging winds and ball size hail passed through this way. Yet.





I'm not sure if our luck will hold today. As I study the weather maps, trying to decide if there will be a few hours of good outdoor play with Snowdrop, I see that we may dodge the weather mess. Or we may not.

I don't do much yard work this morning. A few seeds planted, strips of grass by the driveway trimmed -- nothing huge. We're moving slowly in these unusually warm days.

But I do notice that we are now in a new stage of farmette life: we've moved from fresh spring leaves and emergent perennials to a lushness that usually comes at the very end of spring. Everything looks terrifically abundant!






As I pick up Snowdrop at school, I spot her playing in the school's sandbox. Has she had her fill of sandiness for one day? I don't think so...






We explore the neighborhood.

She is happy to again pause at the coffee shop, as much for the refreshing water (yes, there's the sweater again!) as for the bite of blackberry scone.






After, she lovingly takes her paper cup for a walk.






But if sweater stays on for the walk, it comes right off when we arrive at the farmette and I tell her she'll have to take stuff off if she wants the sprinkler and sandbox.

I did it! I'm ready!






It's a delicious hour of water and sand, then water again.

(The cheepers catch the stream flowing from the sprinkler. Snowdrop wishes they would wash their claws in the spray itself, but that's just not going to happen...)






She is exceptionally sandy and wet by now, but it's nearly 80F (26C) and so she minds none of it.






When Ed walks over to examine the tomato plants (doing fine!) and the cherry trees (they'll be producing heavily this summer, for the first time!), Snowdrop wants to follow and explore. And the dandelion puffs (abundant!) transfix her!






Throw them in the air and watch them fall!






Again. And again.
















Henny wonders: what's all the fuss about? Frankly, we like the little white flowers better. So refreshing to munch on!






The little girl marches around the tomato field, to the grapes, to the fruit trees. Want to follow ahah? Does he ever say no?






Evening. Snowdrop wakes up from her nap, a bit disheveled, way too warm in her jammies (her choice of wear, as I rinsed and dried her dress). Ed comes in and takes out the watermelon from the fridge.
Want some? -- he asks her.
He's eating it, so it must be good. Yes!

They sit on the floor across from each other, she, still in her jammies, munching watermelon.
It is so wonderful! -- she says, excitedly.
Wonderful? Big word for a little girl -- he smiles.






Ed gets a work phone call and Snowdrop will not leave him to it, so I take her outside.
I want to wear those boots! - she tells me, pointing to her winter shoes that I neglected to put away this spring.
They're for winter. It's warm, you don't need them.
Can I please wear them? She does know the magic words...
Okay.
Is it dark outside?
No... In the summer, it gets dark much later. You're in bed and it's still light.

We go to the far end of the farmette and watch the farmers work the fields. I tell her -- you're getting to be taller than our baby tree! (It's an especially slow growing tree...)






The wind gusts now. Ed can't bike tonight. The weather is too unstable. But Snowdrop is just in love with it all!






Her parents come. The wind rages. She hugs. She's happy.





We're all happy.