Daisies and Dialogue

It was Flower Communion Sunday at Church today.  For those who aren’t familiar with this UU tradition, congregants bring flowers which are then distributed during the service.  The idea is that the individuality of each flower, like each member, combines to create something even more beautiful than its parts, and each person takes a flower to remind themselves of that beauty.

I took a daisy, because it reminded me of the Wise and Wonderful Betty Gray.  All day, I’ve been thinking of the story she told me about the day someone said, “Betty, you have the loudest laugh I’ve ever heard.”  I can’t remember who the speaker was, but it stuck with me because it was true.  Grandma had the most wonderful, big, big laugh.  There was no doubt when something caught her funny because she didn’t hold back at all.

I’ve been thinking of her because this morning Ian found a coupon on the kitchen table, all folded up.  He picked it up and said, “‘Oh, no!’ cried Mommy, ‘What happened to this?'” Grandma would have LOVED that story.  And she would have loved to hear how tall he looked standing at the end of King Street watching the boats and the ducks yesterday.  And she’d have been beside herself if I called to tell her about Ian saying, “Mommy, you banged the door so you gotta go in time out” after I shut the car door too hard.  (Well, really, doesn’t some of that kind of make you want to shoot milk out your nose?) And I, myself, would have loved calling her to tell her about it, because nothing beat being able to say, “I made Grandma laugh today.”

Summertime, and the living is easy…

It may only be the beginning of May, but around here, the line between “spring” and “summer” has been crossed. 

Irises are blooming

Little Man watched ducks and sailboats in Old Town

Finished the day dozing in the hammock.

Not too shabby. Friday marked the five year anniversary of the beginning of this beautiful life, and so far, the weekend has been a perfect monument.

Fresh Bread

Ian was tickled pink when I said I was going to make “honey bread.”  This turned out not to be because he wanted to help me measure and mix the honey-whole wheat dough but because he wanted some honey on a spoon.  Of course I said yes. 

Ian spent this entire (apparently quite boring) phase of the baking in his sandbox.

Punching down the dough, Ian style.

Playing “peek-a-boo” with the resting loaves before they went into pans…

He covered these up all by himself.  “These bread gonna make MORE teeny bubbles.”

Maybe not so pretty, but oh so good. These didn’t finally come out of the oven until Ian went to bed, so we’re going to have to resist the temptation to eat them all before he wakes up in the morning.

Hi, Ho, the Derry-O

We had been unable to book a slot for a group tour for today’s visit to Oxon Hill Farm,but lucked out to be invited along on a previously scheduled tour with another group that happened to have room for us today.  Ian got to see lambs, feed chickens and cows, and go on a hayride behind a genuine, bona-fide farm tractor.  Throw in a dose of absolutely perfect weather, and you really couldn’t ask for more!