The air was heavy
We felt it coming —
. . .
Dancing in the raindrops
Going to sleep
with their windows open;
to the sound.
. . .
I go into their rooms later
to close the windows
and find them sprawled out,
dreaming of rain.
The Newt Family celebrated their anniversary with a beef dinner. The baby’s name is Albert. Mrs. Newt has a blue purse. Mr. Newt has a blue tie.
Ellen needs to get lost in her world of play every single day. Play is nourishment for her. Amabel too; but Ellen especially. This is one of the biggest reasons why I still struggle to feel good about sending my girls to school. More school = less play.
I’m constantly meditating on the balance.
I woke up thinking about lavender. Our lavender plants need cleaning and cutting back. Every spring I pull back the grass and thyme that likes to creep close to the lavender, cut off last year’s growth, and remove dead branches. I love this job. I get to sit in a carpet of thyme, look out at this view, and smell lavender. It will take me longer than usual this year, with Wallace sitting in my lap. All the better, right?
But lest you think I am over-romantisizing my garden chores, we are way behind this year. Grass is growing everywhere; all our garden beds have more than ever before. And the weeds seem to be taking over. Oh, why? Are we lazy gardeners? Was it the horse manure we used last summer?
I’m slowly making my way though perennial beds, clearing out debris. The thyme (our whole yard is thyme) still needs to be raked. Fruit trees were not pruned this spring. And we’ve usually planted a early bed of greens and peas by this time, but not yet this year.
I have high hopes for this weekend. The weather looks promising and Jeffrey will have finished a large work project. We have nothing on our calendar except the garden. The garden is a glorious place to be.
It’s bedtime and she is painting. How I love this girl and her creative projects.
The feathered ladies followed her up to the house and back down to the coop. She was dancing and singing the whole way.