Mom and Toddler Sunscreen

Readying savory delights

Trying savory crostinis. Left: steak with tarragon cucumber onion mayo topped with red pepper. Right: steak with arugula bacon cheddar, topped with pecans. Broiled to perfection. 

Garage clean out

Stuff. Years of it. Pulled out, pushed to the side. Made to look like a real housecleaning. Not so fast. Set aside the tools. Throw away the old, worn-out ropes. Reminisce. Laugh and wonder why this has been kept for 22 years. The floor of the garage has been washed clean. I wonder how much of this will be dragged back in, put in some sort of order, and kept until the next beautiful spring day.

Old Motherhood

Watching first two Harry Potter films this afternoon made tears of nostalgia!

Athena's soldiers

Early morning walk. Saw Athena's soldiers standing guard around the foundation of little homes. Heads in helmets of poppy, yellow,orange, rose, purple, pale pink. Not human; attired in bright green togas , spears leaned out at the ready.

Forsythia(common)

Near the quince, outside its visual field, is the brilliant sun drenched forsythia. Ablaze. Stoic. Strong. Lasting only a short week to ten days, she stands, the vigilant commander of spring, declaring, "I'm here; now! I bring forth the process," while small creatures, tulips, daffodils march afresh, undaunted by sun one day and cold winds or frost the next. She fades; as the flowers show their colors, up a bit of blue, pop a bit of rose, spit a piece of lilac phlox, the glory of forsythia(common) closes up to chores unseen until another January; when we wait to see her for a month or two, and wonder when she will arrive to bring our Spring again.

Quince

The cherry blossoms of Japan are alluring especially in movies showing their delicate dance of twirling and falling. Washington DC also attracts many to their cherry blossom rite of spring; white-pink petals gracing the weather wind currents, often heavy with rain, or icy droplets, making early mush of spring's bridal aisle. Delicate are cherry blossoms, as delicate as the woman or child we keep magically hidden. Hope of such beauty lies waiting to come out, for the right temperature, time, when PERFECT is the word. And, the word does not come; it falls upon cement in perfect pink, the color of new born lips, and gets crushed by the soles of good men and women going to work.

I love the spring quince bush in my backyard. It was planted more than 50 years ago.  From my window, I see all its beauty. The color of quince, the vibrant color that is only quince; a rich, transparent salmon, flowering in early coolness, with pollen centers the likes of slender jonquils begging for bees. Depending on the time of day, I see the same bush differently. Shadows walk across the bush at mid morning and late afternoon; big bear paws of dark hover over my delicate bush flowers, protecting the petals from too much light. Then, the too much light of noon lingers for hours while my bush soaks in enough of heat light to preserve color into another cool or colder night.