how can you not be thrilled with them...

I know what you're thinking: here comes another grandmotherly post about those magnificent grandkids! Well yes, they are that, and yes, I'll say a word on them in a bit, but they aren't in my immediate field of vision when I first go outside this morning. And I'm not thinking about the chicks either, except that soon I wont be calling them chicks because they are getting plump and feathery. More and more like pullets (in case you are not a chicken person -- a pullet is a hen that's not quite an adult, but without the down of a baby chick).

I am thinking, when I step outside today, how thrilling the flowers of spring are when they do finally blossom. Even though one that is indeed blossoming massively (not because I planted it, but because someone once did), has this habit of spreading and squeezing out others, which makes it actually an invasive.  I'm thinking of you, scilla siberica! Pretty and bluebell-like, introduced here in the Midwest as an ornamental and now taking over many a wooded area. Including at the farmette. You really should not plant it. Still, it is, well, very pretty. 

I do take full responsibility for the crocuses. They are not natives, but they cause no harm. And they're gorgeous.

Similarly, I'll take responsibility for planting daffodils. Again, it's not a native, but not invasive either -- so no harm done and lots of beauty in its first appearance. Last year my first daffodil bloomed on April 1st. This year -- today! So three days earlier.

It's no surprise, really. By afternoon, we reach 65F (that's 18C). It's terribly windy, but who cares! It's 65F! (Well, Sparrow cares. As I help him navigate the great outdoors, he tells me -- I hate the wind. I list some of it's virtues and he does an about face -- okay. I like the wind. Kids are so impressionable.)

The early morning though is still a bit nippy. Breakfast in the kitchen.

The kids come soon after. I love how they find their own paths to the front door!

These days, Sparrow often begins his time here with a man-to-man chat with Ed. 

Snowdrop, on the other hand, almost always begins with a bowl of fruit and book time on the orange couch. I'd dug out some books on Jane Goodall. Snowdrop, who had had some exposure to Goodall previous to this, has a spirited discussion, also with Ed, about whether a chimpanzee is an ape or a monkey. (Happy to report that indeed, chimpanzees are apes. No tails, stand upright. Like us.)

And speaking of Ed, I'll put in this photo, because I don't think there's been a year where there hasn't been a photo of Ed pulling garlic mustard out of the raspberry patch while Snowdrop (and now Sparrow) romps.

Is it still windy? Yes it is!

Evening. We have some gizmo failures today -- my Fitbit battery is draining like a speed demon, to the point of making the movement tracking device useless, and Ed's little solenoid on the chicken coop overheated and died. Terrible news! How will I know my step count? And how will the cheepers get out in the morning? (The solenoid is set on a timer to spring the door open. Since it's dead, a real human being has to be there to let them out.) But by the end of the day, replacement parts for both gizmos are in place to arrive soon-ish. Once again I marvel at how easy it is to work through problems from home. All this and spring daffodils too. How thrilling is that!