Sunday, we had a taste of summer. It was so warm—nearly bumping 70—that the air felt heavy. So luxurious!
After church, the kids shucked shoes and straightaway went about the serious business of making all things mud, and I coerced my husband into planting some shrubs. What is it with our innate need, come the first signs of spring, to plunge our hands into the dirt? We are such primal beings.
This week, the temperatures are dropping again. But that’s okay. At least we had a taste.
This same time, years previous: home education series: the moral high ground, school: the verdict, learning to knit, hauling wood, and my me-me list.
It was glorious, wasn't it? I thought about digging, but instead just sat in the sun with my Sunday paper, soaking it all up.
Ah… I am jealous of your sunshine! And mud! We have had grey skies forever and ever here in Pennsylvania.