The Lovely Interruption of Spring

We had a beautiful spring here in Northwest Ohio. It was last week, in case you missed it.

We had some lovely moments together, Spring and I.

Those moments were usually interrupted by children, or laundry or a dog that has discovered the newly plowed field behind our house.

You shake your head. You roll your eyes a little. What is Honour's problem?  Doesn't she know that the loveliest moments of life are found in those interrupting children? In serving her family? In yelling her dog back into her own yard?

Well, yes, Honour knows all that.

Honour even tries to embrace those lovely interruptions.

Don't go packing Honour's case for a guilt trip she doesn't need.

Some botanical specimen outside Honour's dining room window, May 2, 2013

Spring ends quickly. On the calendar, Spring lasts from March 21 until June 21.  But most of that isn't spring.  The first six weeks of that time is merely Winter winding down.  It is muddy,windy, rainy (but only if we don't need precipitation; brown and bare if we do).  Balmy one day, freezing the next.  Too cold for a jacket, too warm for a coat.  Those first six weeks of calendar "Spring" are like the last 30 minutes before a toddler's nap: nothing pleases her; she needs a drink, she needs a snack; she feels hot, she wants a blanket; she's tired but wired; whiny and whimsical in turns, but since she doesn't like taking turns, she's mostly whiny.

Nap time eventually comes, and so does Spring.

For a WHOLE beautiful week - two if you're really special - everything is blossoms and buds.

Exact same specimen, outside the exact same window, May 5.

What do you like better - promising buds or full-blown blossoms?  The anticipation is exhilarating, but the realization of their potential is quite heady too.  It's rather like a theater production, don't you think?

 In all honesty, of the four springs we've lived here, I have never seen this tree quite so luxuriant in blooms.  As you can see by the arrangement of the patio furniture, we just sat around and stared at the pinkness.

Just kidding. Maybe someone sat around the fire-pit in the pre-Spring coolness.  Maybe the dog had a party while we slept. Maybe the tree did a little Shakespeare for the varmints.  Maybe...

It is precisely because she knows the season is fleeting that Honour didn't mind ignoring her children, laundry and dog for a few minutes to just stare at the pretty flowers. Yes, she was contemplating the ephemeral season, but it also took a few minutes for the caffeine to fully awaken her brain to the commotions around her.  [And if you're going to ask how laundry creates a commotion, you're obviously lacking in imagination.] She doesn't mind much of anything in those first few sluggish moments of the morning.

Anyway.
Spring has had her week of loveliness.  The tulips are wrinkled old ladies, well past their prime and missing most of their petals, although none of us have the heart to tell them that.  The daffodils seemed aware of their own decline and, shriveling upon themselves, quietly faded, without the fight of their sisters.  The ornamental and fruit trees exhausted themselves in performance and scattered their own flowers at their feet.  Maybe someone clapped, but none of us heard.
Now it is Summer. 
We our wait for thunder storms and the calender to catch up.

We Break for Spring

Spring Break was last week. 
We were busy.
We played with friends.

Ok... so this picture was from N.Belle's class Easter party - the day before Spring Break. Apparently, I didn't take any pictures of the four play dates we actually had at home!

We built ramshackle structures with scraps found in the barn.

 We read a lot of books. In really odd settings. Odd, ramshackle settings.

We put on concerts.

We cooked a little here and there. But not with this strange assortment of ingredients WBeans set out when she wanted to help Mommy make dinner.

We put on pretty new dresses and went to church.

Only some of us did that. A few of our family were sick. Sad {Easter} day!

We did not go anywhere, but we never had one of those "I'm bored and don't know what to do with myself" days.  It was nice.  We were not really ready to go back to school yesterday.

But we did.

And by "We" I of course do not mean "me."

Soggy Green Happiness

Chilly spring raindrops are pinging the windows. Looking out, I see that the grass around the muddy patches is violently green. If the sun were to suddenly shine, the vibrancy of the brilliant, wet lawn would certainly hurt one's eyes. The muddy patches are usually called "flower beds." No blooms yet, but the promise is there in little emerald shoots. A dozen tiny birds peck away in the mud, ignoring the rain.

I'm not an outdoorsy type, and I am tired of cold and rain... but those birds and flower buds make me smile.