As we climbed into the car to go to church on May 1st, Maria asked, "how can it be raining on May day?" It was a cold and rainy week, and I forgot to take pictures during most of it. Our chief occupations were getting over our collective family head cold and getting used to Louisa being back on a half day schedule at school.
Finally, on Sunday, as a special gift to the mothers of New England, the sun appeared. That was just when I was getting ready to sit down to do a weekly blog post. The blog post had to be postponed in favor of a family walk.
These pictures were taken on Sunday, after the sun came out. The flowers glowed and princesses exited their dungeon and went out to survey the transformed world.
Children love a path! These slates were salvaged from various roof renovations at West Point. They were hanging out in our garage until I brought out a few to serve as stepping stones over the mulch in the front garden bed. Louisa added more to make a little path. Now the girls walk the path every time they exit the front door.
A highlight of the week was having our friends the Bogues over for a communal meal on Friday. Imelda called me the day before to say that she had a brisket that needed cooking and a recipe she was eager to try, and would it be acceptable if she brought it over and made it at my house? It was indeed acceptable, and turned out to be a lovely format for a dinner party. One cook takes on the responsibility of preparing The Large Piece O' Meat while the other cook pulls together the sides; a pleasant and equitable devision of labor.
Imelda is in the throws of rehearsing an opera which will be opening this weekend. I got to see her again Sunday night, after she discovered that her husband had, with the very best of intentions, polished their kitchen hardwood floor while she was away at rehearsal. Fearing that the polish fumes would endanger her voice, Imelda came and used our guest room that night. It was so fun to have my friend at my house in the late evening. We had a good, long talk while Donnie caught up on basketball. It's nice to have another night owl for a friend.
I'm not sure why, but Louisa and Pippa have been dramatizing every stumble, bump, and hang nail this week. One or the other of them seems to be crying or announcing a hurt every five minutes or so. Donnie and I have difficultly maintaining empathy, and often find ourselves saying "that's what happens when you do x." They fetch each other ice packs and put band aids on each other, which is quite sweet, but leaves the house in a whirl of bandaid wrappers and melting bags of blue chemicals. Perhaps we just a had a particularly uncoordinated week.