four children + green dreams + recipes + story writing + running wild + (sanity) = where you'll find me
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Another beautiful bizarre mid-March day
tree branch with buds, March 21, 2012
Avoided yesterday's restlessness and instead started the morning with a trek to the back yard. Camera in hand, of course.
Good heavens, what is happening? Buds on the trees? Red lettuce and chives sprung forth in a raised bed? The wading pool full of water? A smog alert in Toronto this morning?
If it were just one day of unseasonal warmth, the buds wouldn't think it safe to come out; but it's been enough consecutive days to heat the second floor of our house to mildly intolerable -- we ran fans last night. (And really, the flannel sheets seem ridiculous).
It can't last; can it? We'll need those flannel sheets again. The windows won't stay open. It seems impossible.
fresh salad for supper tonight?
Given all this warmth, we've discovered a new favourite retreat -- the upper level of our porch, which we didn't get a chance to use last fall when it was first built. Already, AppleApple has tucked away there to read in late-afternoon sunshine. And Kevin and I took tea and snacks and a candle out after dark the other night. It was that warm. Venus and Jupiter shone overhead, and the Big Dipper appeared to be upside-down.
It's not a quiet retreat, let me add. Our street is much too well-travelled for that. Cars are noisy machines. But it's lively viewing, and the porch feels private. Reminds me of when I was four years old, and would climb a small tree in the backyard, high enough to see over the fence. Behind that house was an apartment building, and I would watch the happenings. Even at that age, interested in observing the lives of others. You have been warned.
I'm mother of four, writer, dreamer, planner, runner, photographer, taking time for a cup of coffee in front of this computer screen. My days are full, yet I keep asking: how can I fill them just a little bit more
-- with depth, with care, with pleasure.