How can it be so muggy outside? It's like there is a perpetual invisible mist. You step outside and are surprised that you can see past your nose. All that moisture in the air! Let's shed the sweatshirt, we've entered a steamy bathroom in the wild.
This did not stop a raccoon from doing damage around the coop at night. Well, you didn't succeed, so there! Chickens accounted for. Wait, where's Henny? (Eventually we find her. The girl is broody and she can sit in one place for a very very long time.)
It's definitely warm enough for a breakfast on the porch.
I'm in a state of contentment. Or relief. Or both. Yesterday, I handed Like a Swallow to someone who was not part of the book publishing industry. So, the first person who is reading it for pleasure. True, it's my daughter, so not without bias, but I can tell she really liked it. Mothers know these things. Or at least this mother knows these things.
It is rather mind boggling that I never let anyone I know pre-read any draft of the book. I did not want to be swayed away from the narrative in the way that I felt it had to be delivered. I did not want praise, I did not want criticism, except of the type that the publication editor ultimately provided (so many more commas in the final version!). There's plenty of time for discussion and reflection post factum. But it was really really gratifying to hear her enthusiasm now. One more piece of evidence that our kids' voices matter in our lives. Hearing what they have to say sometimes takes courage, but most often, it provides sweet rewards.
And at the farmette, the bold swallows dart in and out of the garage shed, bringing food to their young, eyeing me with suspicion, daring me to get in their way.
The afternoon is with Snowdrop, who proudly took her violin to school (the music class teacher asked for instruments).
I have never heard Snowdrop play and to my knowledge she rarely practices, but for some reason, she really loves lessons, loves Vivaldi, loves thinking of herself as a violin-playing person, so there you have it.
(Pink next to pink and white.)
(Afternoon at the farmette, where she never wants to listen to music but always wants to read books with me. And climb a tree. Same tree.)
The next few days weeks are going to be fast paced, I think. House cleaning, family celebrations, big meals, holiday exhale with all the kids, peony magic in the flower fields, clean up at the farmhouse, launch book, pack up and go. Not across the ocean, but still, go! All that, in less than a week. Hop on board for a crazy ride!
With love...
