What ho, is that sun?
The Midwest has been gypped by Spring, raining on the crab trees until the petals browned, and then blowing them away before it's comfortable enough to sit outside. The first day of sunlight and it's nothing but dandelions out there, uneven grass, and boggy ditches--and even still--I'm cold.
I'm going to package up April and put it in the attic with a question mark on it--to be sorted later, if the water doesn't rise and carry it away first. Or if tornadoes don't do away with it altogether.
Halt the deluge, God. Halt I say.
The kids talking the other day, and the five year old says to his big brother:
And the big brother says, "Big deal, I'm still keeping your hat."
Finally got around to watching the Royal Wedding last night for a few minutes--which was notable for…not being notable. And I mean this in the best way.
Normally, I flip on reality TV in order to be scandalized. "She cannot really love him." "Nice shirt, Lady, Where are the pants?" "Can you believe people behave like this--knowing that millions of people are watching them?"
But commentary around here during the wedding was, "People are dressed modestly." "What gorgeous music." "The bride does not appear to be pregnant." "I don't see any protesters."
I was overwhelmed by the decency of everything.
An image of a stick man with a frowny face captioned in my 10-year-old's hand, "It stinks to be a stick man."