Today's highlights:

6:30am: My husband woke me up after his P90x. 

7:15am: I am dressed, have tossed protein bars into my purse, filled to-go cups, and we get in the car to take Aidan to the hospital for his surgery.  

8:45am: Aidan heads back for surgery.  Husband goes to get us coffee and I read my book.   I just finished a memoir by the daughter of a famous actress turned new age guru which I won't link because though it was a powerful and enlightening (pardon the pun) read, it was super Shades of Gray-ish.  At least I am guessing it was, having not read that. My current book about a journalist turned 1930's Mexican senora could not be more different.  It is a breath of fresh air and my faith in humankind is restored.

11:30am: called to recovery.  (I won't post an 'after' but suffice it to say he no longer looks so chipper.  Upside is he no longer has a deviated septum nor a pair of enlarged tonsils and with any luck he will be breathing normally again soon.) 

1:30pm:  heading home to begin the first of the post-op irrigations we will be doing 4 times a day for the next two weeks.  Good thing I have a strong stomach… 

2:00pm: Aidan is settled on the couch with meds. Husband does some work from home so Moira and Tess and I go out to get groceries.  On the way we pass an old house getting a new thatched roof and I remember I want to get a pic of this process but there is no good place to pull over.  

4:30pm: The available kids unload groceries and help with chores.  I mop and wipe down the kitchen, bathroom and laundry room because it seems the sensible thing to do right at that moment. The logic escapes me just now. ; )   

5:00pm: Kids run around out in the sunshine while we do another irrigation with Aidan.

5:30pm:  I roast beets and sautee cabbage and sausages. Crusty bread is sliced for the grain eaters.   Moira makes some jello and Kieran makes some popsicles for Aidan. 

6:30pm: We gather everyone (but Aidan) up again to eat and say the rosary around the table. Alannah comes home from work and gets on the treadmill.  

7:30pm:  Moira and I take the dogs out to walk a few miles. On the way out I notice the whatever-it-is (bird? it is happening in the hanging baskets too) that has been messing with the potted flowers is at it again and I go back to ask Kieran to tuck the plants back under the soil.

8-9:00pm: Walk.  It's that time of year where we dodge the sprinklers as they spray over the farm road. And we hear a loud animal from the woods in the distance that sounds for all the world like very, very loud kittens, but it is not that.  (After two yrs we are still trying to identify!)  

9:00pm: A neighbor who knew us and where we lived (but whom we did not know) stopped us to ask if we had seen her little dog.  We are told he is a small black terrier and worries her to bits.  He is terribly naughty.  She knows he wants to run and play, but it's a worry.  They are a worry aren't they? Such a worry, she says. Such a worry. We promise to keep an eye out.  

9:15pm: Home again.  Aidan needs meds. Girls have pj's on and we brush teeth.  Brendan comes down in his pj's to see could he please have one of Aidan's popsicles before bed (yes ; ))  I tell Abbie Rose it's bedtime and Mommy is sleepy and she sagely recommends I go to my room soon.   Soon.  I should do that….

9:55pm:   Husband and Aidan are watching a movie. My tea is steeping.  It's almost "soon."

"Let us suppose that it is summertime, that you are in the country, and that you have fixed upon a certain day for a holiday ramble. Some of you are going to gather wildflowers, some to collect pebbles, and some without any very definite aim beyond the love the holiday and of any sport or adventure which it may bring…"

Sir Archibald Geikie

You can keep time by the flowers here.  First come the snowdrops, then the daffodils, and after, the tulips.  About then the apples trees bloom.  As they begin to fall the lilacs burst out. The rapeseed fields have their day in May.  

Then come the poppies.  Along the fences, beside the grain fields, clustered on embankments lining every country road. Like the rest they won't last long but right now those orange-red fragile petals are quivering in the wind at every turn.