Cleaning winter off of the deck.
berrylicious
Sometimes you just need to stop and pick the raspberries (and then make jam).
fuzzy ducklings
Sometimes you just need to stop and feed the ducks.
the nebraska sky: always amazing
goodnight sun
daylilies in bloom
cornfields close to home
We pass this field a few times each week on our way to Tae Kwon Do. This year it’s filled with corn. Last year it was soybeans. They had a rough year because of the drought. We kept track of their leaves throughout the summer. They were brown before the end of July.
We’ve had a lot of rain this Spring. So far, everything is growing bright and green. However, there’s a sign on the corner: “For Sale.”
It’s not surprising. If it were my land I’d consider selling, too. That part of town is growing. The potential for that space, its worth to a developer, must be so high.
We’ll be sad when it’s gone. It’s a gorgeous expanse of green that’s especially beautiful at dusk, when the sky turns an infinite number of pinks and purples.
So for now, we’ll soak it in every time we pass, and I’ll try to get a few more pics before it’s gone. Before it becomes another Walgreens or CVS. Before its natural beauty is replaced by asphalt. Before progress marches on.
Because a growing economy is a good thing, right?
she needs me, she needs me not
She obviously doesn’t need help with her new bow and arrow.
summer mornings:
“Mama, can you do this for me?”
“Mama, can you get this for me?”
“Mama, can you make this for me?”
“Mama, can you etc., etc., etc., for me?”
In my head: “Really? You’re almost seven years old. Do it yourself. Grow up already!”
summer afternoons:
“Bye, Mama!” after a quick hug in front of camp.
In my head: “Really? You don’t want me to walk you to the door? You can find your class by yourself? STOP GROWING UP SO FAST!”
this moment: “it’s not cold”
This summer’s first dip in the pool gave the kids shivers, goosebumps, blue lips and chattering teeth. They didn’t last long, but I’ll admit, it was longer than I thought they would. “Really Mom, I’m not cold. I just shiver like this sometimes.”
This Moment is a Friday ritual inspired by Amanda Soule.
spring in the heartland
