Friday, May 02, 2008
Like a Day in May
I may be posting only to distract myself from the fact that today is chick day. Out east, at the feed store I like, they are receiving a new shipment of chicks. I have spent the entire week in a mental-spiritual debate over whether or not I should bring home 2 chicks. My heart aches. My head is worn. I keep hoping for a sign that it's reasonable to take charge of my destiny, to move forward with my hopes, to nurture my flights of fancy. I keep hoping a home will reveal itself to us, so that we can know that after 5 years of false starts and dashed dreams, we will finally have a game plan, a destiny. I think it is the very worst part of being an adult that we are compelled to do what is appropriate, responsible and rational. So, without a sign, without urging and enthusiastic support and encouragement, I hang my head and accept that it is not my chick day.
Is it human nature to want more? I live in a big, safe home, but I want my own house, my own walls and pipes. I have healthy children and I am married to my 1 true love. But, wouldn't it be just a bit sweeter if we could have a garden and hens?
The children's homeschool supervisor, a wonderful woman, brought oranges, tangerines and avocados to share. Max and Maria were more than happy to relieve Franya of her surplus fruit. And I had to exercise all of my adult discipline to not ask for one of the extra chicks they have in their coop. Franya was happy to describe how cute their chicks are and how easy they are to raise and keep. Mercy. I was ready to blurt: "Yes! I know. Let me help you. We'll take 2 chicks, since you find yourselves with 6 more than expected. We'll be happy to lend a hand." Good grief... I had no idea I had such power of restraint. I hate to test it like this.
We are in such ideal May weather. No grey foggy mornings. No debilitating heat like we had last week. This is grilling weather. Picnic weather. Sit outside and rip seams weather... Am I the only semi-experienced quilter that uses a seam ripper almost as much as a sewing machine? This is the kind of weather that makes me think of summer camping and crossing creeks in bare feet.
Even Joe is happy to loll on the patch of lawn in the backyard, nibble tiny spring flowers. He knows these are idyllic days, happy days of May and leisure.
Max tried to teach Maria about the pips in the tangerines. He demonstrated eating a piece, feeling around with teeth and tongue for the small "hard bit," and then spitting it out. Maria was engrossed and delighted, but nonetheless she swallowed all of her pips.
Next to our tomato plant, in the barrel, the carrot seeds have sprouted. The dark soil looks so rich with its new carpet of green,and now comes the hard part of thinning the seedlings. At least Joe is happy to receive the freshest baby sprouts, otherwise it would feel so tragic pulling them up. Is ambient light sufficient for tomatoes to fruit? I don't think so. I'll have to recruit Alex again and move the barrel a bit north and west, where there may be a bit more light.
After our picnic lunch, Max and Maria picked up their swords and played at battle. I love the sheer confidence and energy Maria is unleashing. There were no injuries, no acrimony, only the joy of play.