I wake up to birdsong. That's what happens when windows stay open on a warm spring night. It's just heavenly! I wish I could identify the birds. I'd send a message their way -- dear winged XYZ, your calls and chirps in the morning are sublime! They calm the soul, nourish the spirit and reassure all of us that the most beautiful elements of life remain with us every day, whether we see them or not. Thank you.
I'm up. I step outside. Oh my!
It's called "Spring Beauty" (scilla siberica, pronounced sil-ah, for the fussy among you).
It's always the very first blooming flower at the farmette. Today, it's showing up everywhere! A dazzling first taste of three seasons of flowers!
And let me say at the outset that it is a drop-dead gorgeous day at the farmette. The loveliest of spring days -- warm, with plenty of sunshine. June weather, really, but we'll take it! Greedily, because we are so hungry for it!
As on any day, rain or shine (or snow or frost) I begin with feeding Jacket and Dance, our two young feral cats. The chicken coop opens at 8 and I want to squeeze in a good feed before the cheepers descend and create their own version of pushy chaos (they try every which way to get to the cat food and we try every which way to keep them away from it).
Oh, but it's a lovely morning! And all that sprouting green stuff! The daffodils! The day lilies too!
(Looking toward the beloved farmhouse)
The first half of Monday, of course, belongs to my grandson, Sparrow. He'll be 10 months tomorrow. Today? Oh, he is his usual chipper self.
I'm tempted to eat breakfast on the porch. He's certainly willing!
But there is that early morning nip that tells me I shouldn't push it. We settle in around the kitchen table. My guys and me.
After? A few of our usual routines. The timed release! (Short sleeves for everyone!)
Ed's lap!
But honestly, it's not a day for staying indoors. And wouldn't you know it, Sparrow is just mesmerized by the cheepers.
And especially by the crowing Happy.
(Sparrow gets a lesson in animal reproduction as Happy pounces on a somewhat reluctant Peach.)
(Does that ever look like a satisfied rooster?)
I am glad to see that as with baby Snowdrop, the cheepers are indifferent to baby Sparrow. He pursues his exploration of dry twigs and spent leaves and they pursue their hunt for the perfect bug or blade of grass.
Sparrow is a big guy and so no one is surprised that he's not extremely mobile yet. The upside of this is that he can be placed most anywhere and five minutes later he'll still be there. It also means that I haven't yet confronted the problem of baby-proofing the farmhouse. It's looming on the horizon, especially if Primrose comes for a visit, but for now, I have it easy.
Too, like all the grandkids, Sparrow is a terrific napper. That means I have time to do some yard pruning and clearing. And in working the south facing flower field by the road, I come across another surprise: on the same day that the scilla flowers let out their sweet gentle blue petals, I see the first farmette daffodils! It's enough to make you sing!
There is a lot of outdoor time for all of us. Vitamin D time. Happy spring time. Lovely time to take in all that is growing, thriving all around.
And in the afternoon, I switch focus. Time to pick up Snowdrop. Perhaps predictably, given the weather, I suggest we walk over to the playground after school.
I have been to this playground with her since she was just a few months old! The girl is now four: what has changed since the last visits in the warmth of summer and fall?
The swing is still a hot ticket item. Though do note that the sweater is quickly shed. "It's too warm," she tells me.
And after? She recalls her favorite game of ice cream shop! It's more sophisticated and there are twists and turns to navigate...
... but still, I am delighted to be again the person who does not get her ice cream cone, even as (imaginary) others prevail.
Sorry, Gogs...
(Did I mention it? It's a windy day!)
There are, of course, other children at this small lake-side park today. Some of them are running in and out of the water, making moats and puddles in the wet sand. I ask her if she wants to join them.
Nope. She knows one of the boys. But she's not one to plunge into the crazy unfamiliar. She chooses to stick with her stories. The focus is now on school and work problems. The playfulness is the same.
At the farmette, we do read, but we also take in the wonderfulness of this extraordinary day.
(Ed notes that the cheeper watering dish is completely dry...)
(Snowdrop rushes to help...)
Long after the little girl leaves, Ed and I remain outside. We prune our peach trees. One is lost to the miserably cold winter. The other three are with us still. Tomorrow, we'll hit the young orchard with our clippers!
I retreat inside to fix a supper of leftovers. But I get a hail from Ed that brings me out again. Gorgeous, it's a pink sky!
Yes it is.
I'm up. I step outside. Oh my!
It's called "Spring Beauty" (scilla siberica, pronounced sil-ah, for the fussy among you).
It's always the very first blooming flower at the farmette. Today, it's showing up everywhere! A dazzling first taste of three seasons of flowers!
And let me say at the outset that it is a drop-dead gorgeous day at the farmette. The loveliest of spring days -- warm, with plenty of sunshine. June weather, really, but we'll take it! Greedily, because we are so hungry for it!
As on any day, rain or shine (or snow or frost) I begin with feeding Jacket and Dance, our two young feral cats. The chicken coop opens at 8 and I want to squeeze in a good feed before the cheepers descend and create their own version of pushy chaos (they try every which way to get to the cat food and we try every which way to keep them away from it).
Oh, but it's a lovely morning! And all that sprouting green stuff! The daffodils! The day lilies too!
(Looking toward the beloved farmhouse)
The first half of Monday, of course, belongs to my grandson, Sparrow. He'll be 10 months tomorrow. Today? Oh, he is his usual chipper self.
I'm tempted to eat breakfast on the porch. He's certainly willing!
But there is that early morning nip that tells me I shouldn't push it. We settle in around the kitchen table. My guys and me.
After? A few of our usual routines. The timed release! (Short sleeves for everyone!)
Ed's lap!
But honestly, it's not a day for staying indoors. And wouldn't you know it, Sparrow is just mesmerized by the cheepers.
And especially by the crowing Happy.
(Sparrow gets a lesson in animal reproduction as Happy pounces on a somewhat reluctant Peach.)
(Does that ever look like a satisfied rooster?)
I am glad to see that as with baby Snowdrop, the cheepers are indifferent to baby Sparrow. He pursues his exploration of dry twigs and spent leaves and they pursue their hunt for the perfect bug or blade of grass.
Sparrow is a big guy and so no one is surprised that he's not extremely mobile yet. The upside of this is that he can be placed most anywhere and five minutes later he'll still be there. It also means that I haven't yet confronted the problem of baby-proofing the farmhouse. It's looming on the horizon, especially if Primrose comes for a visit, but for now, I have it easy.
Too, like all the grandkids, Sparrow is a terrific napper. That means I have time to do some yard pruning and clearing. And in working the south facing flower field by the road, I come across another surprise: on the same day that the scilla flowers let out their sweet gentle blue petals, I see the first farmette daffodils! It's enough to make you sing!
There is a lot of outdoor time for all of us. Vitamin D time. Happy spring time. Lovely time to take in all that is growing, thriving all around.
And in the afternoon, I switch focus. Time to pick up Snowdrop. Perhaps predictably, given the weather, I suggest we walk over to the playground after school.
I have been to this playground with her since she was just a few months old! The girl is now four: what has changed since the last visits in the warmth of summer and fall?
The swing is still a hot ticket item. Though do note that the sweater is quickly shed. "It's too warm," she tells me.
And after? She recalls her favorite game of ice cream shop! It's more sophisticated and there are twists and turns to navigate...
... but still, I am delighted to be again the person who does not get her ice cream cone, even as (imaginary) others prevail.
Sorry, Gogs...
(Did I mention it? It's a windy day!)
There are, of course, other children at this small lake-side park today. Some of them are running in and out of the water, making moats and puddles in the wet sand. I ask her if she wants to join them.
Nope. She knows one of the boys. But she's not one to plunge into the crazy unfamiliar. She chooses to stick with her stories. The focus is now on school and work problems. The playfulness is the same.
At the farmette, we do read, but we also take in the wonderfulness of this extraordinary day.
(Ed notes that the cheeper watering dish is completely dry...)
(Snowdrop rushes to help...)
Long after the little girl leaves, Ed and I remain outside. We prune our peach trees. One is lost to the miserably cold winter. The other three are with us still. Tomorrow, we'll hit the young orchard with our clippers!
I retreat inside to fix a supper of leftovers. But I get a hail from Ed that brings me out again. Gorgeous, it's a pink sky!
Yes it is.
