With the threat of "wintry mix" by Monday hanging over us, we are super motivated to get out into the yard. We have lots to do.
After breakfast of course.
On the one hand, I tell myself that taking it slowly should be fine. I have five and a half weeks before the local perennial nursery opens with my first order of new flowers. Five and a half weeks to dig up the weeds, to transplant all that I want to move. Five and half weeks to develop a plan for what goes where.
On the other hand, I'm thinking: only five and a half weeks?? Where some days may be full of a wintry mix??
Put on the work gloves and get going!
(This is our focus right now: the spaces around the sheep shed, a.k.a. flower field number 10 a, b and c.)
Even though we are not yet in the official growing season, those of us who plant bulbs in the fall are by now rewarded with signs of new growth. No matter what the weather in the next few weeks, we're not going to slow down these guys!
Again we stay out a long time and again we make good progress.
And once more, in the afternoon, I pick up the little hedgehog at school and bring her to the farmhouse.
A big snack means revitalized energies.
("Can we play with the chicks first?")
A rereading of a favorite book and now the creative juices are flowing fast and I lose the little girl to her stories. First in Lego land, then in a special place that she had created on the window sill for a few Polish and Peruvian characters, a Degas figurine, a special stone from Wales and some fake tulips from Holland. A place that she returns to again and again. A place that I find so fascinating that I'm even willing to keep cutting back the geranium plants that inevitably invade her set up.
And soon after, we leave so that I can drive the girl home. No? Not yet? Okay, just a few minutes in the magic meadow. How well I remember from snowy winter days the announcement delivered from the new entrance platform before the play began...
Evening. Fishy supper, a return to a Netflix sort of funny show, and in the last hours -- my thoughts drift back to the flower fields. Weird how that works: I am 3.5 pages away from the end of my writing project, but I do not pick it up, because my brain cells have switched to a focus on spring and the coming of the growing season.
