Apparently I haven't updated this blog since before Thanksgiving, so I guess it might be time.
Not that I have anything spectacular to post, just the here and there of life as it's happening right now. We enjoyed an awesome few weeks with my mom, Tim, and Stephen, which included trips to Disney and the mall and just hanging out at home. It was crazy and fun and naturally I have not a single picture to show for it, except this one of the green pancakes I made on St. Patrick's day:
Mal calls them "panpakes".
Now that family has flown away, things are settling back into what is becoming a familiar spring pattern. My garden has expanded--as it does, little by little, every year--and I am falling back into the easy routine of early morning watering and weeding, checking for bugs and blooms and drooling at the thought of the first ripe tomoatoes.
We've had an unseasonably warm winter, so where most people may be just starting out seedlings, I already have blossoms on young plants.
Don't get jealous. This warm winter no doubt means a warmer (and longer) summer, in a land where summer is already the most miserable time of the year. It's all a trade off.
Spring also means new chickens. Meet Larry, Curly, and Moe:
And this is Lucky Ned Pepper. She's a turkey.
A what? I know, I know. It was a total impulse buy based on poor judgement induced by exhaustion and a head cold. At least that's the official story. I have no idea why I felt I needed a turkey but actually, I like her a lot. She's very clumsy and sleepy and makes me think of a cartoon character. Put her in the warm sun and she flops down like a narcoleptic. If I pick her up, she lets her legs dangle between my fingers and goes to sleep. She's pretty cool. And apparently she can eat what chickens eat and may possibly lay edible eggs, so it's not a total waste of time and money.
We spent lots of time outdoors this weekend, working and playing and just hanging out. It was GORGEOUS yesterday and the perfect kind of day to spend all day outdoors. I am still recovering from a cold, so I stayed home from church with Mal. We ate breakfast and then went in the hot tub and watched the giant clouds scuttle overhead from our seats in the warm water. We drove to Home Depot to pick up some dirt and garden supplies, then I built a trellis for the cucumbers and pulled weeds till my neck started to burn and my lower back ached from bending over. Then I put on a still-damp swimsuit and jumped in the pool with the kids. We got nice and cold and then spread our towels in the sun next to the tree house, listening to the sound of the beehive humming and Art sanding something in his shop while we talked about our favorite colors and foods and Star Wars characters. It was the kind of day where you only come inside to use the bathroom or get a snack, and feel a pang of real regret when dusk comes and you finally have to call it a day. I love those kind of days, which are all the more precious because of their rarity.
I want to remember days like this when August comes and the cabin fever sets in. I will make a point to float in the pool and say to myself, "There are good days in Florida. This too, shall pass." And the muzzy, distant memory of golden warm spring days with skies so blue it almost hurts to look at the horizon might buoy me up and help me endure the summer. Maybe. Hopefully.