Wednesday

At long last, Ed bought himself something that will help him in the yard: a dump cart that he can attach to the old lawn mower (it's a riding mower, so you can use it as you would a tractor). This $129 acquisition took days and days of comparative research (this one has no ball bearings... this one will allow me to build up the sides with wooden boards... this one is made of sturdy plastic... this one has sides that drop down -- I have been listening to the virtues of one cart over the next for so long now, that I feel I know all there is to know about this two wheeled garden wonder).

Today he assembled the cart and so for the better part of the morning, instead of hiding from me lest I ask for his help in the garden, he follows me everywhere, asking repeatedly -- you sure you don't need more chips? Because I can haul them anywhere you want!

This is the theme of the day.

It tells you a lot about our lives right now: we are focused on the outdoors and we will remain focused on the outdoors for a solid month. We have lots to do!

But first, breakfast. In the sun room, because once again, we're eating early and it's still nippy outside.






But it promises to be a fine April day! A light sweater will suffice and when you work hard, even that seems superfluous.

It is still the season of daffodils. Today, the more exotic varieties (always last to bloom) are showing their pretty faces...






I love the doubles and I'm in awe of the triple-headed dancing girls...






Yet daffodils, for all their individual beauty are, to me, at their most sublime when viewed en masse. Like this...






Or this...





Their season is actually quite short (and shorter still when you have cheepers trampling and scratching the flower beds), but because they are the first, I am enchanted. Totally, completely enchanted.


I have a lot of planting to do in the next several weeks, but I am determined to finish the strawberry patch weeding first. And I've come across a headache of sorts: a huge clump of irises, right in the middle of the patch, that are overgrown with quack grass. Yesterday, while Snowdrop napped, I tried digging around the irises to stem the grass roots from spreading, but this morning, I gave up on this half-assed measure in favor of digging up the whole lot of them and disentangling several dozen tubular root systems from the noxious grass. I am grateful for my hovering buddy (Can I help? Will you need some wood chips after? Yes, Ed. Thank you, Ed.)

And this is how the clock tick tocks its way to noon. Snowdrop pick up time!

(She looks like a businesswoman, leaving her office, briefcase in hand!)






Snowdrop and I stroll over to the distant coffee shop -- all for the promise of a cookie bite.

She is so determined to be a big girl, that she now prefers the regular chairs over the kid high chair. It's funny to see her so low, but honestly, she seems quite happy there.






At the farmette, she considers her options. A few minutes outside!






A look at the flowers (Scotch wants to know: is there something in it for me?))...






A snack with the cheepers...






And inside the farmhouse we go. Ed's on the couch munching peanuts. She joins him, begging for a few. (My very observant granddaughter looks closely at him and asks: ahah, did you get a haircut? Indeed! I finally cornered him this morning, razor and scissors in hand!)






He never says no to her.






Evening. Ed is back to riding his bike again. Snowdrop watches him get ready. You can almost see the wheels spinning: soon I'll be doing Wednesday night bike rides too. I don't doubt it, Snowdrop. I don't doubt it.

Tuesday

No text today! There is but one focus -- to take heed! Seize the beautiful sun dappled hours! Get things done!

And I do. I leave but a trail of photos:

Our daffodils, in the morning light.






Breakfast in the sun room. (It's early and still on the cool side.)






The Flower Factory, my go-to local perennial nursery, opened its gates for business this week -- one week earlier than usual. I've been their loyal customer for decades now. Driving out to their place is a spring high point for me. And today is our day for it: Ed will read a book on a bench there, I'll walk, nod my head, learn, admire. (And yes, buy. After all, we've doubled the size of the front bed this year...)










Back at the farmette, we unload the treasured pots of purchased flowers.

I glance out at our beds right now. I can never get enough of the daffodils -- our season's first bigger field of blooms.






But I'm also happy to see the other spring beauties began their seasonal show.






The cheepers wait and watch: will she be digging worms for us? Will she get us some yummy stale bread?






Time to get Snowdrop.
We're going on an adventure, gaga?






At the park, she wont get off the swing. Too slow! More high, gaga!






At the farmhouse, always a rush to be with her characters first.






At the sheep shed: I tell her that this is where ahah works. Today Snowdrop informs me: I work here too, gaga.






Why I love dandelions: it is the one flower you can tell your grandchild: pick as many as you want!






After nap polka dance. Ahah supplies the music, she supplies the smiles and the running commentary.






Nurturing instincts kick in...






And in between all that there are the hours spent weeding, digging, scheming, imagining.

A grand day. Totally grand.

Monday

There is a book that I read to Snowdrop where everything, as far as the eye can see, is brown. I swear, the author must have spent a March in Wisconsin. Then on the very last page, a little boy steps out and the world is green.

I have this image in my head that things turn here right around the date of my birthday (April 21st). This is when I always remember the buds on trees popping with new life. The brown begins to co-mingle with a gentle green.

But this year, there isn't a question but that the world has turned green already, without waiting for my birth date!

And it's warm enough for breakfast on the porch, and that's just so wonderful!






And the daffodils are nearly at their peak -- against the backdrop of a thicket of green!






Snowdrop was out of school for spring break last week, but today she is back in full swing.

Has it only been a week? Everything about the world seems transformed!






A week ago, after school, we walked the neighborhood in search of blooming flowers and found the occasional crocus and bluebell -- little else.

Consider today's walk!
















I cannot believe the changes!


At the farmhouse, Snowdrop wants a little quiet time. That is, if you can call playing baseball with Ed quiet time.






There -- this is her sedative, her respite, her chill time: serving tea at her little table. I can almost feel her exhale.







After her nap, there's more indoor play. I'll include just one set of photos, where she cooks soup for her new chickens.






Wait. That looks threatening! Does the chicken understand that she is one step away from the soup pot?







Late in the afternoon, we go outside. The real chickens join us. Or, join her: they're convinced that she holds the key to chicken heaven.






I pick up my shovel and continue to weed the strawberry field. This is a big project for me as I've let the weeds take a firm hold in the last couple of years. Snowdrop understands I need help. She is more than willing to assist!






And she is, in fact, a terrific digger.






We work side by side until her dad comes to take her home.

The wind has picked up some, but the sun is still out. I glance at the daffodils. Golden and ivory. Perfection.

Easter Sunday

If you had to write a heart warming picture book about a perfect Easter Sunday, you'd choose this day as your model. It's the coupling of perfect weather with an unusually late Easter date. The result is a magnificent display of nature magic!

We have Snowdrop as our morning house guest, but the little girl sleeps in late and as I putz around the kitchen, I wonder if the promise of good weather will truly come to pass. It's cloudy in the early hours and I'm glad that Ed's second face off with the sputtering furnace (yesterday) was successful, because we need the heat.

Snowdrop is in a gentle and sweet mood and we do our usual routines. Her first breakfast, still in pj's...






... a bath, and then the preparation of the big breakfast: pancakes (by her choice)!
Is it time to flip, gaga?

I didn't think we would be up for a breakfast outside, but the skies began to clear and with that  glorious sunshine, I decide it is warm enough.

A little Easter bunny hopped over to the table to be with you! 
It's purple? She's not certain. I'll have to introduce her to the concept of magenta.







She is instantly attached to it. And to the pancakes. As is Ed.
Me, I'm just loving this brief April fling outdoors...











Hmmm. All that maple syrup... Maybe a bib is a good idea, Snowdrop.






After breakfast, I take her home.
Bunny has to come home with me.
Shouldn't bunny stay at the farmhouse?
No, bunny is going home to mommy and daddy.
Fair enough. (I can snatch "purple wurple" floppy ears back later.)






And then I return to the farmette and I set to work: digging, planting lily bulbs, mulching, weeding -- the usual, sure, but all against the backdrop of a blue sky. Look! The old cherry is blossoming!






What a gorgeous day. No, really: you cannot improve upon it.






Sublime!






And in the evening, the young family comes over for Easter dinner. I do a rather traditional menu: chicken marinated in buttermilk, garlic and cayenne, mashed potatoes, asparagus, corn. And for dessert -- home made raspberry ice cream and little fiancier cakes.

But first, I direct Snowdrop to the Easter bunny's farmhouse evening gift for her: she has her own chicken. No, it's not real. Thank God.






Dinner. Once again, we almost didn't eat outside. It's in the mid sixties F (about 18C) -- so borderline for a meal outdoors.

But, oh, am I glad we went with the gut! It was a beautiful evening!






Just beautiful. (Snowdrop, reacquainting herself with ice cream.)






Yep. A thumbs up.






Little financier cake as well.







I do so hope your day was as beautiful! Full of flowers. And love.