Yep, Annie will be right here with me.  All day long.  For years, I’ve wanted another baby.  Perhaps Annie is spoiled.  I’m sure you can put two and two together. 

Oh, nevermind, I’ll do the math right here.

Lynn wants a baby + Michaela gets a cute beagle = Annie gets treated like a newborn baby.

I walked in the garden yesterday.  Around and around my beloved little garden.  Crepe myrtle: my favorite tree.  Close by is a gold flame spirea.  The leaves are just starting to unfurl.  I stood — for I don’t know how long — and just was happy. 

I love the bark on the crepe myrtle and I love the color of these new leaves.  Perhaps that is what inspired me to put apples in the basket of my newest doll, who should appear in the shop this week.   Or maybe it was because I asked the carpenter-man what should go in her basket and he said, “apples.”

The hellebores are lovely.  It was rightly spoken that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed as beautifully as one of the flowers fashioned by God.  Breathtaking.

I noticed yesterday that the creeping phlox is starting to bloom.  It will be a huge blast of color over the next couple of weeks.

A lone miniature daffodil stands, with a backdrop consisting of huge masses of ornamental grasses.

Ahh, the first violet of spring.  Spring is really, truly upon us.  Yes, there may be will be a few more cold nights, but the face of spring is finally smiling down on my little yard.

We can handle it.  Do you have enough room under the umbrella?

And please watch out for the puddles.  Thank goodness we wore our Rocket Dogs and not our flip flops for this walk, although it might feel good to get our toes wet.  Still, we’ll wait a few weeks on that.

Oh look!  The daffodils are so happy.  We’ve been waiting and waiting and waiting for them, and now they are here.  I think it’s only fair to the daffodils that we DO come out in the rain and see them.  Don’t you?

We must stop here.  This is one of my favorite plants come spring.  This is Akebia, or chocolate vine, and it has the most beautiful, most sweet-smelling blooms ever.  Some people consider it invasive, but I keep it confined to the arbor here and have not had a problem with it the 4 years or so that it’s been here.

It sort of looks to me like this garden creature has daffodils for arms.  What do you think?  Is it just me, or does he have daffodil arms?

I can be desperate for spring.  It can be still cold outside.  It can be snowy blowy outside.  And yet, hellebores. 

 And that’s all I’m gonna say about that.

Let’s stand here under the umbrella and look at the goldfish for awhile.  Do you mind?  Isn’t the water pretty?  I love the camellia that’s fallen into the water.  Are we in Japan?  I think we are.  I know I am.  Are you?

Shall we make up a Haiku to remember this moment?

Dancing down.  Raindrops.
With the weight of spring they fall.
Flower, go with them.

Oh, be still my heart, the violets are peeking out at us!  They are true harbingers of spring.  When they come, I can breathe a sigh of relief.  And speaking of heart, their little leaves are heart shaped.  Violets are good medicine.  These violets have made a tincture that sits in my herbal medicine cabinet.  Shall we have some, so that spring within us can wake up too?

I love you, violets.  All of you.  You can always live in my garden.

Uh, sorry.  I’m not letting you talk at all.  Do you want to talk to the violets?  Do you have a haiku to share?  Are you ready for spring?

Thank you for walking with me.

From yesterday:  Michaela has her own garden plot with — so far — carrots, peas, turnip greens, spinach, and cat grass.  Some time this week we’ll plan radishes.

Have a lovely Wednesday.  Today will  be a day of getting life as we knew it back on track.

• peas
• garlic
• spinach
• maybe more…

Thomas remains in the hospital, recovering, and I’ll be going to see him later.  In the meantime (when it rains it pours) the washer is broken, so I will be going to a laundromat, BUT I have a lovely old book about a little Chinese American girl whose grandfather opens a laundromat.  It’s called Soo Ling Finds a Way.   I bought it about a year ago at the thrift store, but we’ve not read it yet.  I think we’ll turn our trip into a tiny unit study.  What else would a homeschooler do?

Have a lovely day!

First of all, my husband, Thomas, is back in the hospital after finally coming home yesterday.  Things are not progressing like they should.  For now it’s IV fluids only (again) and and nothing by mouth.  I hope he’s better soon.  W’e're all very worried about him here.   Thank you so much for all the well wishes and kind words. 

Spring is certainly in the air here today, with the daffodils finally beginning to bloom and, believe me, I can use it today. 

Even some tulips are pushing through the ground.  These were newly planted last year, so I can’t wait to see how pretty they are once they bloom!

And let’s not forget the humble “weeds,” which make me just as happy as all of the highly cultivated, nursery-bought plants. 

On a more serious note, my professional name-picker is ready with her hat to draw a name out for the St. Patrick’s Day pin!  I am truly sorry that I’m so late in doing this.  Things just sort of fell to pieces last week, but we’re still in plenty of time to keep one lucky person from getting pinched!

Here is the very pin we speak of.  Are you ready?

Reaching into the hat, she pulls out a name.

And unfolds the paper.

She reads the name.

And turns it to the camera.  Valerie!  Yaay!!!  Valerie, if you want to e-mail me (lynn -at- thehealthyhomeschool.com) or send me a mssg on facebook or just any ol’ way, I’ll get your address and send it off to you ASAP. 

Have a lovely day, everyone.  I’ll post when I can.

So I’ve been holding down the fort (thank goodness for my boys) and visiting Thomas as much as possible, sketching and dreaming of spring while he sleeps, recovering.

I won’t share gory details, but let’s just say we were at the 24-hour mark from the onset of pain, where you might see rupture or gangrene and, in the surgeon’s words, getting Thomas’s appendix out was “a challenge.”

Perhaps I sounded sad yesterday?  Forgive me.  I had to ramble a bit, because in truth it is hard to switch from homeschooling-mom-artist mode to working-woman-trying-to-do-it-all mode.   In fact, I am just fine, and very appreciative of my job at home.  There are a lot of things I don’t have to do, like homeschool Michaela and paint and garden, but the things I choose to do bring me great joy, so I press on.     

I thought I’d pop in and share a bright hello and brief details about what’s brewing over here at the old 1921  house.

Working on…

more pins for the Etsy shop

and a new painting.

Lessons for a co-op I’ll be co-teaching this week on Mailing May.

In The Garden…

the weather is chilly and gray — a good day to stay inside and do all the things I’m doing.

I continue to take joy in the garden’s structure and the bits of color that carry me through winter. 

Spring is trying her best to make an entrance, and I do delight in the few little flowers that are present in the garden now.   The crocuses are tiny, beautiful, and yet so durable.

Taking care of me…

is vanilla rice milk + frozen strawberries + banana + 365 Whole Foods chocolate whey protein = yummy fruit smoothie.

Wearing…

messy renaissance braid

and my favorite (you’ve seen it before) corduroy skirt, two white shirts – layered, and an old apron.  I’ve a lot of cleaning to do today, as well as cooking and errands, all in addition to the fun stuff I’ve shared.  It’ll be a busy few days off, but I’m not happy any other way. 

I’m gonna be okay.

But as easily and quickly as it came, the joyous current dies, and my wings fall away, into the clashing sounds of responsibility and burden.  It it were not for the contentment in serving and the fine honing that comes from persevering, there would be no need in going on.

Anyway, dreams don’t die easily.  They can be put away, put down, shut up, spoken to harshly, and pressed and pressed again by the weight of what one must do.

Dreams have a way of preserving themselves and coming back again, in a keener and keener form.  Like a knocking at the door that won’t go away, dreams call and call again, sure that you need what they hold out to you.

So it’s good to listen and to bring the dreams out and to nurture them and run after them.  No matter how pressed down dreams have been, they are still just as strong — maybe stronger, and they shine better than before.

Sometimes, with the pressing, dreams just get more and more beautiful.  With the pressing, perfect days become more precious.  With the pressing that is life, we learn a strength and determination that could have come no other way.

With the pressing, we see colors we never knew were in us, and ideas and thoughts that could never have made it to the surface, without the pressing.  Thus I choose to keep believing that, like cream rising to the top of a worn pitcher in an old country kitchen, some sweet day my dream will surface, fully formed, and I’ll have my wings.

PS — Sometimes I just need to ramble. It’s a rocky road some days, but you are welcome to come with me.