'Tis the Season

A time of year when the sun's heat and the Delta's breeze mix together and have a little rendezvous in Midtown, cooling things down, making our walks to the local Farmer's Market extra pleasant. My heart began to race as I saw 16th and P lined with those white tents I've missed so much. Tents that house the sweet, fresh, sinfully delicious variety of fruits. Tents that house the uncommon vegetables, allowing our little family to branch out, try something new, and get out of the rut of Winter root vegetables. 'Tis the season for sandals with flair and pastel polished toes, jellies on sweet little feet, and a recently purchased bonnet from Bella Sol Bebe.

'Tis the season of the Summer strawberry. A season of falling under the spell of the ripest, reddest jewels, bursting with flavor. Plucking them right out of the basket and plopping them straight into your mouth. Completely irresistible to every palate.  

 'Tis the season of flowers sold in bunches for dollars and change which end up on our kitchen table. Yesterday's pick added a beautiful and subtle scent of sweet peas to our little home. It's a time for late morning walks, strolling though parks and along streets, hand in hand, enjoying the gift of gorgeous weather.

Happy Wednesday!

Spend the afternoon.  You can't take it with you.  ~Annie Dillard

When I think about yesterday and all the beautiful moments we crammed into the thirteen odd hours of sunlight, I feel accomplished. Content. Satisfied. Like I stuck it to the calendar, showing that intimidating little square dated twelve that there are no restraints or limitations on what can be done in a twenty-four hour period.

 We ran our errands, stopping at the house with the Great Dane that Lola loves so much. She is always surprised by height and grandeur as he rises proudly to defend his territory. She anticipates his bark, deep and strong, a sound others might find frightening. But not Lola. Her smile, timid and slow, finally consumes her face, displaying proud little gums that house proud little teeth, lifting the woes and worries of any person walking by.

 On the way home, we take pictures and make mental notes of the bold, green canopy that has been developing over our streets, tempting us with shade, and encouraging us outdoors. We chomp on sweet, gooey pieces of saltwater taffy, my childhood favorite. Unwrapping each little individually wrapped memory-filled morsel, I think about mine, the happiness they bring, and about the ones little chicken will have one day as well. 

 We drop off groceries, load up snacks and toys for the park, leaving the four walls of our little apartment to explore the polleny green sidewalks along the way. We acknowledge the presence of developing fruit high up on fig trees. We touch red, bristly flowers, shaking off the little yellow bits of their future only seconds before Lola crushes it to smithereens! She doesn't know her own strength yet.

 We continue on, exploring steps and key holes, inching our way closer and closer to the neighborhood park. I notice our shadows, in love with the way they look. The way they change with our movements. The way the big compliments the small and how the small compliments the big. The way one really can't be present without the other.

 I notice the way Lola's mood changes as we approach the little gate to the playground. She becomes animated, her eyes widen with excitement. She darts in past me, paying no attention to the sun beams breaking through the treetop. I walk to the nearby bench to put down our bag, turning to see where she has ended up. The swings, shocking. Lola has a new found fascination with swinging. She could spend the entire time there. And how could I resist her little face, the way her eyes beg and plea with me to push her? The way her face will light up as she swings up into the sky.

The hours rolled by as she played with children, running round and round, taking the occasional face plant into the wood chips. We enjoyed our snacks with a breeze warmed by a big bright sun. I enjoyed the company of fellow mamas all at the park for the same reason.

The later part of our day was spent napping, jogging, stopping for more time at the park, making dinner, taking sips of evening tea, bathing with watermelon scented bubbles, and enjoying the ritual of  pre-bed-time snuggles. We seized the day. We maximized our time. We made the most of it. 

 

We spent the afternoon.

Thankful on Thursday

It's been a beautiful week. A week threatened by suspected Thursday and Friday rainstorms, desperate to steal away my opportunity to go out for a jog. Luckily, that is not (yet) the case. Bright blue skies and an ongoing game of peek-a-boo played by opposing sides, sun and fluffy, white clouds, have been going at it since yesterday. I'm thankful for their game, their fight to the finish, and I find joy in their indecision. Their constant argument over sunshine or cloud-covered skies has left me loving the way the morning sun creeps onto our bathroom floor, warming only a small patch of cold, 1970's yellow linoleum.

 Feeling amped and charged, I get into the mindset of running to run my errands. Whatever has come over me, I don't know, but I like it and I'm thankful for it! Lola is dressed to the tee, wearing jean on jean, a Pieter past-time favorite. She rocks it out, posing perfectly, weight shifted to one hip, displaying her pink cardi, striped GAP turtleneck, pairing it with moccasins. Baby fashion blogs, here she comes!

 Her woolly mammoth and rubber ducky tag along. I'm sure she's relayed the message that mom would be running. A sight to see.

 I'm ready to go. A Cosby Show cardigan, yoga pants, long sleeved black top, and the only matching pair of socks I could find. It's laundry day, people. I take pride in this lovely pair of old dress socks. They deserve some time out on the town like all their sock drawer companions do. And for their matching pairingness, I am thankful.

I am thankful for bright skies accented by a quickly developing canopy of trees. That's the beauty of Midtown, you go to bed and when you wake up, your greeted with new leaves, buds, and blooms. We jog through patches of shade and sunlight, taking in the variation of height, shade, shapes, and sizes in trees. I stop to take the occasional pic, laughing to myself as I see the uncertain look on people's faces. I can't decide if it was because I'm a freak for Spring, constantly documenting the development outside our little windows or because I was dressed like a Huxtable. It could be a combination of both.

Waiting in the grocery store check-out line, this little guy catches my eye. I snag two of these babies and enjoy one on my way home. Blast you impulse items (in)conveniently located close to my debit card! Blast you!

I'm not going to lie, I thoroughly enjoyed every little nibble of its minty fresh goodness! I can't remember the last time I had one. I think it's been at least ten years. Ten years!!!! I am thankful for a trip to my more "youthful" years. When was your last York Peppermint Patty, huh?

I'm thankful for short walks to the park where even the most mundane of snacks seem like an extra special treat. I am thankful that Lola doesn't discriminate against her vegetables. She loves 'em all. 

And with this new budding season comes new things to look forward to. New adventures. New friends and developing friendships.