hopscotch

It feels like I'm jumping today: from this to that and back again. This is not necessarily a bad thing. Jumpers typically are fit and nimble, so you could say I'm training to stay in the league of the movers if not the shakers. Still, there isn't necessarily a flow to the day.

Take the morning: I had a mess out there in the flower fields. Yesterday's day lily trimming was modest and today the garden seems ragged. It honestly does not look pretty (in my opinion) when so many lily heads are wilted and hanging by a thread. So I snip away! And admire what's out there.

(pastel)

(ruby)

(dark)

(froggie, surfing the spent lily)

(Whirling Butterflies and nasturtium in the pot, lilium, day lily and phlox in the bed)

 

 

(a corner of the Big Bed)

 

But after snipping off number 616, I stop. To be finished later. We have a scheduled event at our local county park: one of the horticultural specialists there is leading a walk through their restored prairies. Ed and I thought we might learn something. There isn't time for breakfast - the walk begins at 10 and snipping lilies took a long time. We head out hungry (in my case) and coffeeless (again only me: Ed isn't a coffee guy). One must make sacrifices!

The walk was just okay. There were four other walkers and none knew much about prairies, so the explanations had to be necessarily basic. When one of the older participants asked "what's a bumble bee?" we excused ourselves. Still, it's close to noon before we sit down to breakfast. Left over croissants!

And it cannot be entirely leisurely: I am scheduled to pick up Snowdrop at French Camp at noon. 

Picking up the girl is always exceptionally wonderful: you get an insight into her mood immediately after. And today (first day of the week-long camp) she is jubilant. 

It's easy to understand why. She is one friendly kid and the presence of classmates put her over the top. Gogsie (her newest nickname), did you know that "purple" in French is like the little flower (violet)?

At the farmhouse, after lunch, we do a lot of reading. She is old enough for Judy Blume books and this makes me very happy, since I loved reading this author's stuff when my girls were young. So often, books lose their relevance over time, but Judy Blume's novels always seem to me to feel current. Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing is a book about a boy who has a pesky little (nearly 3 year old) brother. Would Snowdrop identify with the older boy?

She doesn't! Snowdrop defends the little guy and has little patience for the big brother. 

We always think we can identify kid feelings. It's good to have this chance to listen to what they are really telling us.

(When here, Snowdrop always takes the time to make friendly overtures to Dance. The cat is finally accepting her as part of the household. Still at a bit of a distance, but she does stay put when Snowdrop reaches out to pet her.)

After dropping the girl off at home, I return to the lilies. Two more beds to clean up (for a total of 901 today)! I'm caught up!

All that and a few raindrops too. Not bad for a jumpy day!