Trying to get back in the saddle

I’d like to start blogging again but long, sustained periods of time to sit and write are beyond me.

 

Instead, I’ll try brief comments throughout the day and post at the end of the day. Maybe I’ll get all my thoughts out but maybe not. But aleast I’ll be writing.

 

Here goes.

 

Little curly-headed boy is telling me you could get Halloween treats at night time but you’d need a flashlight. He’s sitting at the table working on  his doodle board. The light of day backlights him as he earnestly draws.

 

Little Crawler is moving around trying to find things to put into his mouth. Or to bump with his heads.

 

I meant to just come over for my Mediterranean cookbook but got distracted by the computer.

 

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We played outside today, the unusual (and scary) warmth of such an unheard-of day in January was too much to resist.  We dug in the dirt. Miles dug in the raised bed and in his flower bed. I started digging an edge around the bed closest to the house, where previously the mulch just ran into the grass.

 

Hugh is so content to be in the carrier while I dig. It’s so nice.  He watches the shovel spade up loads of dirt, he watches the mole chaser that looks like a windmill, the breeze in the trees, the clouds, his brother.

 

The dirt here is phenomenal. I cannot get enough of the tilth of our soil. It’s so beautiful. I love to look at it.  If it’s possible to wax rhapsodic about soil, then I do so.

 

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And indoors there was this:

 

 

 

 

 

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