rainy day work

And we have another wet day today. Good for the garden. (Also good for the weeds.) Good for staying indoors. (Even though I planned on doing my seasonal moving of farmette lands which are sporting, in some places, nearly waist high grasses right now.) 

I walk to the barn quickly, barely pausing to take note of how the old faves are doing.

Now is the time for transition flowers to appear. They're the late spring bloomers and they help keep you sane before the summer bounty comes alive. There are the allium globes -- a predictable and reliable May and June flower...

 

 

 

... and then there is the less predictable Spanish Bluebell. I introduced a mix of colors last October and the first ones to pop open are the white ones.

And the lilac? Still bending its wet branches, still fragrant and beautiful. For another day or two.

We eat breakfast inside. Cozy. Oatmeal. It seems right for a rainy day but I tell you, it doesn't compare to a croissant! I'm too old to be so totally focused on the healthier of the two! Tomorrow, it's back to croissants.

Rainy day tasks. All indoors. Most on the couch. Many phone calls attendant to my mother's schedule and care. Ed's old college friends stop by, but I stay to the side of that encounter. Too much to do. Always too much to do!

But here's a nice surprise -- the rain passes, the kids come out of school to a clearing sky. 

Can we stop at Culver's for french fries? They always ask. Always.

I said once a week and we've already done two trips this week! (Once you break your resolve, it's downhill all the way.)

We'll make a deal! (This from Snowdrop, the supreme deal maker.) We wont ask for Culver's fries or ice cream again if on the last week of school we can have one or the other, every day!

Hmmmm.

Deal!

 

 

At the farmhouse, we read, but with many interruptions. The phone rings every few minutes, all relating to care adjustments for my mother. It is what it is. The kids are patient, eventually giving up on the reading in favor of play as I finish up with the calls.

In the evening, I get up on the tractor-mower and I mow. It's not great to cut fields of long grass and weeds when they're damp from the rains, but nor do I want to use a good weather day for what I think of as a yukky job. Dinner -- reheated chili -- is very, very late.

Tomorrow, it'll be me and the post-rain weeds. In good weather. I promise, it will be lovely! It always is.