I did it again and I'm not proud! Last night, just after midnight, after a somewhat protracted search, I found a one acre lot for sale. It had promise: open space, but at least in the photos, it had every appearance of being very private (trees and shrubs lining the border). Close to town. I sent Ed the link to it and went to sleep. Not for long...
Several hours later, he comes up. Ed often has a choppy sleep and coming to bed at 3 or 4 is not unusual for him.
I mumble in a half wakeful manner -- did you see the link?
He's looking at it right now. And he points to possible fatal flaws (for example, proximity to a pond). And then he shuts the door tight on the prospect of building our own place: If I have ten years of life left, he tells me, do I want to spend one of them building a house? I do not.
I can't blame him. I'm looking for a distraction for the fall (no baby sitting, too much quiet time). He is not. And we've never met anyone who actually enjoyed building their own home. Frustration, delay, pricing issues, snafus -- it's all part of it. We've watched hundreds of Grand Design shows and in every one, the verdict was the same: building your "dream house," even if you are not the one pounding the hammer, is draining and no fun.
So of course, having woken up to talk about house construction, I have now lost out on a good night's sleep. Ed does feel a bit sorry for me, as I have a really full day today and so he offers to be the animal feeder in the morning. It buys me an extra half hour in bed.
But, I'm up snipping lilies plenty early. I need to finish garden work before the kids come.
(see the froggie in the lily?)
(many buds remain...)
(these grow by the driveway...)
(did I tell you how much I also love phlox?)
In the meantime, Ed has gone back to sleep and I haven't the heart to wake him. It's one of those rare times when I eat breakfast alone.
Well, sort of alone.
It's once again a pretty day, a mostly sunny day and since we had the mosquito pros push back the bugs with another spraying of their "natural" barrier stuff, the bugs are at a minimum.
(hey, are you following me?)
When the kids arrive, I'm not surprised that both decide to linger outside for a bit. Snowdrop is my biggest flower fan. Everyone else has grown so used to the robust flower beds that they hardly notice them anymore. It's wallpaper to them. But Snowdrop notices and always has plenty of sweet comments to offer.
Sparrow just wants to check on the cheepers in the barn, even if most of the cheepers are nowhere near the barn. Ah well, it's a nice tiny adventure for him.
(pretending to be chickens)
I nudge them to the young orchard meadow afterwards. Right now, it's one of my favorite spots and watching the flowers emerge is special. The mowed paths make a walk, or perhaps a run here delightful!
(little boy blue...)
(embedded...)
At home with the kids -- it's the usual mix. In her creative play, Snowdrop does go back to her dolls...
And Sparrow looks on, trying to figure out if he can replicate whatever it is that she is doing.
In the afternoon, I drop them off at home. But not for long: we've moved last Sunday's dinner to this night!
Shrimp tacos in green mole on the porch.
How many summer nights will we still have this year that are this beautiful? How many more flowers will fill the yard before the tide begins to turn and the tired plants will begin their annual withering and yellowing in preparation for the deep winter sleep? The end of July is that last moment of unfolding beauty. Of a thousand shades of green. Of early morning light and late sunsets. Of lingering outside late into the evening because you just don't want to close the door on all the sights and smells of a rich and colorful season.
Several hours later, he comes up. Ed often has a choppy sleep and coming to bed at 3 or 4 is not unusual for him.
I mumble in a half wakeful manner -- did you see the link?
He's looking at it right now. And he points to possible fatal flaws (for example, proximity to a pond). And then he shuts the door tight on the prospect of building our own place: If I have ten years of life left, he tells me, do I want to spend one of them building a house? I do not.
I can't blame him. I'm looking for a distraction for the fall (no baby sitting, too much quiet time). He is not. And we've never met anyone who actually enjoyed building their own home. Frustration, delay, pricing issues, snafus -- it's all part of it. We've watched hundreds of Grand Design shows and in every one, the verdict was the same: building your "dream house," even if you are not the one pounding the hammer, is draining and no fun.
So of course, having woken up to talk about house construction, I have now lost out on a good night's sleep. Ed does feel a bit sorry for me, as I have a really full day today and so he offers to be the animal feeder in the morning. It buys me an extra half hour in bed.
But, I'm up snipping lilies plenty early. I need to finish garden work before the kids come.
(see the froggie in the lily?)
(many buds remain...)
(these grow by the driveway...)
(did I tell you how much I also love phlox?)
In the meantime, Ed has gone back to sleep and I haven't the heart to wake him. It's one of those rare times when I eat breakfast alone.
Well, sort of alone.
It's once again a pretty day, a mostly sunny day and since we had the mosquito pros push back the bugs with another spraying of their "natural" barrier stuff, the bugs are at a minimum.
(hey, are you following me?)
When the kids arrive, I'm not surprised that both decide to linger outside for a bit. Snowdrop is my biggest flower fan. Everyone else has grown so used to the robust flower beds that they hardly notice them anymore. It's wallpaper to them. But Snowdrop notices and always has plenty of sweet comments to offer.
Sparrow just wants to check on the cheepers in the barn, even if most of the cheepers are nowhere near the barn. Ah well, it's a nice tiny adventure for him.
(pretending to be chickens)
I nudge them to the young orchard meadow afterwards. Right now, it's one of my favorite spots and watching the flowers emerge is special. The mowed paths make a walk, or perhaps a run here delightful!
(little boy blue...)
(embedded...)
At home with the kids -- it's the usual mix. In her creative play, Snowdrop does go back to her dolls...
And Sparrow looks on, trying to figure out if he can replicate whatever it is that she is doing.
In the afternoon, I drop them off at home. But not for long: we've moved last Sunday's dinner to this night!
Shrimp tacos in green mole on the porch.
How many summer nights will we still have this year that are this beautiful? How many more flowers will fill the yard before the tide begins to turn and the tired plants will begin their annual withering and yellowing in preparation for the deep winter sleep? The end of July is that last moment of unfolding beauty. Of a thousand shades of green. Of early morning light and late sunsets. Of lingering outside late into the evening because you just don't want to close the door on all the sights and smells of a rich and colorful season.
