::Sunday afternoon::
Dan is over at "the new house" working to get walls
mudded and paint on trim. I’m working my way around the house, trying
to regain control of the weekend neglect before the new week starts.
The front door of our porch slams open and Emma is there yelling for my
help, right away! quickly! I go to the door and she’s standing there in
her plum-colored fleece and bright green knit cap (mine)–with the
spool of kite string in her hand. Except the spool is empty. I peek out
the door and see a faint line of string–from her hand, over the roof
of the house, above the oak tree, above the barn–to a brightly colored
dot of kite flailing in the sky. "I wanted to see how far out it could go.
Then it pulled me all the way over here and into the trees. I can’t get
it down." Barefoot baby on my hip who’s enjoying the show, we carefully
tug the stubborn kite out of the sky, holding our breath as it
tangles in the bare limbs of the oak tree three times before falling to
the pavement.

::Monday morning::
Elizabeth is standing at the rails of her crib, squealing. I can hear Emma and Mary in the same room squealing and laughing too. A long wooden board–the adjustable shelf from an old bookcase is propped against the overstuffed chair in Elizabeth’s room–a makeshift slide the girls have invented. They are sitting on dishtowels and sliding down the two and a half feet of board and laughing hysterically. Simple joys.

Spring is slowly sneaking in making subjects for my macro challenge plentiful. Everything seems ready to burst, though the landscape still looks a lot like winter when the sun isn’t shining. Robins are boldly singing from the treetops and tugging tangled worms from the soft soil. Spring peepers are now just part of the sounds of night. But they still catch my attention when I walk outside. I’m eagerly watching the Magnolia in front of the "Big House". Each branch is in a different stage of openness. More here and here.

Happy Monday, everyone.