of planes and plants

When I am outside in the back where the garden quietly grows I occasionally hear a jet overhead flying towards the north.  I imagine all the people on board and the hurried process that they went through to get them there.  I ponder this with the knees of my garden pants soaking through as I kneel and weed. 

Usually I am glad I am not on the plane.  I’m happy to be where I am—in the garden.  It is the first part of June during a somewhat cool weather spring.  The plants are just waiting for a burst of humid summer air to help them grow.  They look small and spindly right now.  It is hard to imagine we will have a bounty ever. 

Maggie was on one of those high flying jets recently.  She went through all the stress of planning and packing and hurrying.  She is in England now, a whole new world.  I can hear the excitement in her voice as she speaks of her adventure.  She plays it cool though…wanting to be calm and sophisticated when really the child in her is giddy with all the freedom she feels in a new city.

We went swimming yesterday in the lake near our house.  It was all I hoped!  It was warm enough out to work up a sweat and the water was cold enough to make you yell yowzah.  {Perfect}

There are good books stacked on my nightstand and only one more day of school.  We will celebrate this with a beach day and cupcakes.  Isn’t it nice to have a weather app to check the weather and not sit through the local news of blah blah blah just to hear the weather guy tell you the forecast in a roundabout way???

 

running around the house

The boys are so happy to be outside.

Watching them running nonstop outside makes me wonder how we made it through this cold winter indoors.  But we did and it feels as great as if we lived the last several months in an ice cave—because we kind of did.  I have swept out the last of the mess from the wood stacks on the porch. Soon we will give the picnic table a fresh coat of paint and we can officially Eat Outside.

They have already logged in quite a few hours in the sandbox.  This is probably #1 on their list of fun right now.

Henry takes water from the brook and tries to make a pond that lasts until the next day.  He makes buildings while his brother smacks the wet sand in the buckets before turning them upside down.  It’s  good cooperation that I hope lasts for a lifetime.

They also love going to the dump with their dad in his old truck.  On this day they also went to a metal yard to sell off some copper wire.  Exciting stuff if you are a boy.

Other favorite stuff these guys like doing outside :

Whiffle Ball

skipping stones

running a big circle around the house while being timed

sticks and all the hundreds of things they do with them

kicking a soccer ball up and down the back hill

planting anything…their apple cores, grapefruit seeds, acorns

making soup for the chickens with weeds and worms and water

All this stuff sounds so boring but it is really what they like, it is pretty much the same stuff the older kids liked doing, too.  Yes they like toys but eventually the toys are cast aside and their imagination takes over. 

When I watch these two boys playing carefree… their happiness is contagious.  I fall more in love with them, with Sawyer’s ears and Henry’s crooked teeth.  They get so dirty with all the mud around.  We wash up and soon after they are sleeping soundly. 

It’s perfect, really. 

birds eye view

Climbing atop a mountain is a breathless struggle.  Once you do it and are able to stand straight and look around you can immediately realize it was worth all the effort.  Such a metaphor for life.

We drove up to Acadia in Maine. It was so beautiful!  My husband used to live on Bartlett’s Island which is off the coast of Bar Harbor.  He loves it up there and I guess I love it by marriage now, too.  The wind was howling like it was from an old musty novel from years gone by.

We drove up the coast, like all the way up.  Stopping here and there.  I was a little apprehensive about going, lately I just like to be home.  It’s comfortable!  But now of course I am so happy I went! 

Molly and Henry picked a bag full of smooth flat rocks to skip in the pond next to our house.  We spend so much time here at home on those dirty banks looking for the perfect stone to skip….to see those stone beaches with millions of the perfect skipping rocks?  It was too exciting!  Certainly better than any gift shop.

It was a good week and now we are back to our home feeling renewed about all the springtime chores that need doing. It is a long list, but as far as seasonal chore lists go—spring is my favorite.  I have 150 starter pots in my daughter’s bedroom.  She will be home from college soon so I better hurry up and get started!

 

the evolution of color

Golly the air is nice today.  It was the first walk of the year I didn’t put a hat on the babes. 

I took him out of his buggy near the center of town and he was like hello? who? what is happening???  Now keeping him in his buggy is surely to be a problem but we’ll worry about that later.

We ran in little bursts much like frolicking newborn animals do.  The ground is very squishy with melted snow and our boots were suctioned in with each step.  Other than our rubber boots and the blue sky there wasn’t any color to be found.  There are no buds on the trees or clumps of green grass, it takes mother nature ages to make it up this far north.

Then just when you think she forgot about us, the green appears and it is lovely….so lovely.

Until then you must improvise.  I love how color evolves throughout the year.  Our red front door gives a statement this time of year, but during the fall it hides behind those glorious colored leaves.  In the summer it lets the red potted geraniums on the stoop have some well deserved attention.

Hope you are having a colorful fair weather day, friends!

of faults and reassurances

Oh dear dear dear.  It is spring and my thoughts are brimming with projects and ideas.  Just thinking about everything is making me too tired to do anything.  Though I have been pretty good at setting up things…ie going to the store and buying my list of items with such exact extremes it would make your eyes roll.  Then I drive away and my home routines take over.  The same ones I have had for years.  You know, laundry, dinner planning and keeping all these floors clean. 

Also the daily caring of my precious, sweet children.  One is about to go to England, one has a bark cough, one is about to move home from Texas (!!!!), one is working on his license (oh boy, he hit one of our cars with another of our cars in the driveway--even though I was hollering and jumping up and down telling him he was about to hit it). Then there is my wee lad who gets into so much stuff then innocently says “sorry mom”.  Then he gets into more stuff.

Those are some poorly written sentences up there.  You don’t mind, do you?

If you really want to know what my nonfamily thoughts are made of I shall tell you:

deployments

moving

keeping healthy

my home

sewing

I only have pictures of the last one.  And like my poor grammar the pictures aren’t so great either.

I made a knit maxi dress and really like it.  I tried on dresses in  the store and laughed at my jiggily flat rear end.  I felt the need to customize my very own dress.  Maxi dresses are not made for short people that have grown six children in their body.

This shirt was too easy to make so made a whole bunch of them.  I like the way the fabric drapes (any fabric, too, I’ve tried knit, cottons, and polyester).  It makes me feel like a girl unlike a tee shirt which makes me feel like I should be working in an oil change mart.

Now it is the time of day to pick up the track athletes.  And since I am their mother I shall be the one to do it.

 

in the mornings

On those mornings when everyone is out the door and Sawyer and I are alone with our breakfast, it is quiet.

Lately he shares his thoughts in his two word smiley sentences.  Often I bring a stack of books and read to him as it takes him much longer to eat than I and it feels kind of bad to leave him sitting eating by his lonesome while I run around his high chair cleaning and starting my daily to-do list.

So we read.  Mostly about farm animals. 

My husband and I both grew up on farms and it has taken six children to produce a farmer (maybe? fingers crossed?).  Of course we don’t have a favorite child but certainly getting SUPER excited about horses (HORSEY HORSEY HORSEYYYY) and cows (COOOOOWWWW) earns some points.

This morning I read poems.  He loved the sing songy rhythm of my voice.  Poems are so fun.

They make me think of summer and sunshine and linen aprons and the sandbox and birds dipping against the blue sky.

Someday maybe it will be summer again? Please?

I shall write my own poem about Sawyer:

My littlest boy is a sweet, smiley chap.

He climbs each day for a story on my lap.

He might be spoiled, perhaps just a bit.

But he the youngest and may throw a fit.

So we feed him and hold him

and fill him with love.

Our little Sawyer—a gift from above.

write what you know

Blogging has evolved these last couple years, maybe just for me but it seems the general “mood” of it has changed.  Much like the mom and pop stores that used to line every main street slowly disappeared, it seems the same type of blogs are fading away.  The kind of blogs that are a whole lot about nothing.  They have always inspired me by their everyday life.  I like the trade of words and photos… a day of my everyday life for a day of yours.  Though I write often it seems it just hasn’t been on my blog.

This leads me to blog writers block.  I don’t know enough stuff to be an expert on anything.  And it seems that is where most of the blogs I would frequent have headed.  Which is fine, too.  Oh, I am so wishy washy.

I have  lot of kids and I might have some default parenting advice occasionally.  But am I an expert mother? Umm, no.

I cook food everyday, but it is usually not pinterest pretty (trust me).

I can sew but that usually is equal parts seam ripping, so scratch that.

Maybe it falls to perspective.  My thoughts on things seem passionate to me.  This has only been exponentially grown by the last year of my life.  I am grateful for a lot of stuff. 

I love that Sawyer can be so happy at wearing just a hat and a diaper.  (he is just like his father)

I love that last weekend when my husband drove our beloved 16 year old van to the junk yard he might have gotten choked up a bit.  That van has been driven through the mountains of Turkey, through the streets of Paris and back and forth across the States too many times to count. She barely made it to the junk yard but she did it.  We named her Caroline when we bought her after Ma Ingalls as she was such a strong woman.  What? You don’t name your cars????

Is it silly to tell you I am thinking of making another quilt only from my stash but after much deliberation I have decided my stash is no good?  I feel like a moody fashion designer. It just won’t work as I give a disgusted wave of my hand.

So many thoughts and so little time. But always feeling grateful.  Always.