Field daffodils are on sale for 3 bunches for 5.00, which means of course I pick up daffodils every time I go for milk or bread. My downstairs is abloom with yellow finery!
(No matter how often I wax on about daffodils in this blog, I still can't seem to spell the blasted word right. I maintain that two 'fs' followed by no doubled letters is ridiculously counter-intuitive. DILL, anyone? Just makes sense. Spell-check, I adore thee).
Oh, dear, isn't maintenance boring? It strikes me that a lot of being an adult is just maintaining things: the cars, the house, the yard, the kids, your health, your clothes, and so on. This month I am maintaining all the above, in particular teeth and mouths, feet and shoes, allergies and wheezes. . .and of course the mental, physical and spiritual health of my children. It's sometimes such a drag.
Beatrix fought a stomach virus for a week that went something like this: SICK, clean-up, (repeat); hydrate, feed, soothe, nap, draw breath of relief--then, the next night: SICK (repeat all of the above). . .and so on for a week. She's such a string bean of a kid that this cycle was accompanied by her mother's worry as I began to see more ribs. . .needless to say she is on an "ice-cream-at-will" feeding routine now.
"Finish your food," I say regularly, "And then have some dessert. We need to get you fattened up, Bea."
"So we can EAT you," Elspeth adds helpfully.
Always count on the support of sisters.
Going to do some overdue writing now. Over and out.
(No matter how often I wax on about daffodils in this blog, I still can't seem to spell the blasted word right. I maintain that two 'fs' followed by no doubled letters is ridiculously counter-intuitive. DILL, anyone? Just makes sense. Spell-check, I adore thee).
Oh, dear, isn't maintenance boring? It strikes me that a lot of being an adult is just maintaining things: the cars, the house, the yard, the kids, your health, your clothes, and so on. This month I am maintaining all the above, in particular teeth and mouths, feet and shoes, allergies and wheezes. . .and of course the mental, physical and spiritual health of my children. It's sometimes such a drag.
Beatrix fought a stomach virus for a week that went something like this: SICK, clean-up, (repeat); hydrate, feed, soothe, nap, draw breath of relief--then, the next night: SICK (repeat all of the above). . .and so on for a week. She's such a string bean of a kid that this cycle was accompanied by her mother's worry as I began to see more ribs. . .needless to say she is on an "ice-cream-at-will" feeding routine now.
"Finish your food," I say regularly, "And then have some dessert. We need to get you fattened up, Bea."
"So we can EAT you," Elspeth adds helpfully.
Always count on the support of sisters.
Going to do some overdue writing now. Over and out.
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