The weather is warm and the flowers are blooming. Today I
made the season's first pitcher of iced tea. I re-potted
the tomato plants, watered flowers, and planned my shopping
list. John had already cleaned the fan blades and left
cleaning the bases to me. After I finished, he reassembled
them. Now they'll be ready when the weather warms up. We
may need them as early as tomorrow; the weather forecast is
for highs in the mid 80's.
I wrote the press releases for the church quilt show and got
them ready to mail and made a list of where to leave flyers
so I can begin dropping them off at different places this week.
A busy church week, again. There's choir practice on
Tuesday and on Friday I'll need to bake a pan of chicken
cheese enchiladas and a couple dozen iced cupcakes for the
church meeting on Saturday. I don't know if I'm going to
actually be able to attend that meeting, though; we'll see.
On one side of us is the parsonage, where Pastor Ruth and
her husband, David, live. Eldon lives on the other side.
He's an elderly, widowed gentleman but still quite active
and very pleasant. There is no fence between his yard and
ours and his yard is sort of a contained wilderness,
including an old, weathered storage shed, trees, grape
arbors and flowers, all of which I enjoy viewing from my
kitchen window. He left last month on an extended trip. He
told he wouldn't be returning until mid-May and asked us to
keep an eye on his place for him during his absence.
Lately I've noticed two little girls in his back yard. I
don't know one but I recognized the other little girl as
Brianna, who is about eight years old. She often comes to
church with her grandmother. Brianna is one of those very
bright and creative children who marches to her own drummer.
For example, she came to church on Easter wearing a lovely,
white, lacey dress. She also wore scuffy white running shoes
with both laces untied. She has sudden, delightful insights
which she'll blurt out and sees connections others miss.
Yesterday John and I realized that Brianna and her friend
had made themselves a little special place in a corner of
the yard. They put down old cushions in the grass and
yesterday they were both there, reading. When John looked
this morning he saw one of them had left some photographs,
apparently of a family gathering, which had gotten damp from
the dew overnight. He let them dry out, placed them in a
sandwich bag to protect them, and returned them. I wonder
what they thought of that?