Miss Rumphius

"Lupines," said Miss Rumphius with satisfaction.  "I have always loved lupines the best."

This weekend we became the Lupine Ladies that Miss Rumphius always wanted us to become. The weather has settled and we sowed our seeds.  Here is to beautiful things in store.

A Forsythia Welcome

I spent the weekend with the truest of friends.  Delights were around every corner, garnished with a kind of conversation that I can never get enough of.  But I came home to Forsythia.  And that helped.  One of the best parts of the southern shore of Massachussetts is the flourishing presence of Forsythia.  Windy roads lined with flaming yellow take the edge off of frigid spring days. And grogginess. And wanting a weekend away to last forever.

One day driving along, my mom pointed out a sad Forsythia bush that had recently been shorn, something like the one below. "Forsythia is meant to grow wild," she said.  "It is not to be cut back."  And now when I see these stubby little versions, I see a lion with his mane cut off.

I am eagerly awaiting my copy of Forsythia & Me to arrive behind the library counter.  What a name to have.  If  do-overs existed, I think Fiona might have been a lovely Forsythia.

I brought back these wonderful cookie cutters for the children from a store called, Whisk. You might say they fell on deaf ears?  However,  I fast forwarded till the day when they are moving out and I am delicately wrapping their initial in tissue paper.  Off, you go! I am sure a fight will then ensue over who gets the Scotty Dog. Maybe that one will stay with me.

Say it with Beatrix Potter

I can think of little that pairs better with springtime than Beatrix Potter. So quaint and sweet. The perfect size to fit snugly in a toddlers hand.  Every time I read these, I discover something new and ingenious that I had never before noticed. When I asked my niece a question about Peter Rabbit last week, she told me with wide eyes filled with sympathy, "He fell down."  The pear tree of course, into Mr. McGregors garden.  The garden bed below was soft, but still.  A true horror to behold.  Some part of my dark side comes out when I read accounts of Mr. McGregor.  I love seeing children hide their eyes as he peers around the edge of a cucumber frame and start chasing after Peter. A child's first villain.  The most wholesome kind of fear, that makes one sigh with contented relief as Peter safely flops down upon the nice soft sand of his rabbit hole. It makes one so glad to have a home. Growing up we would receive one of these treasures in our Easter basket.  I think they make the perfect gift for any occasion really.

My list is bursting at the seams, that I can hardly bear it. But yesterday when I found these paper dolls, something told me things were going to turn out all right. Being overly sentimental can serve a person well, about one out of ten times.  The rest seem to set me up for disappointment. But this was one of those times.  And now off to find the perfect first course for Sunday.

My kind friend, Carter Higgins allowed me to guest post on her lovely blog, Design of the Picture Book. Check it out here!

Nora's Chicks

Even though this daffodil is from Trader Joe's, I pray that it will be the first of many.  I am worried about our daffodil babies out front, along our path.  They were not expecting this last storm.  Yet, I still see their confidence poking through.  Nora has confidence too.  She just moved from the hills of Russia to the American prairies. Two of my favorite places. It can not go wrong from here. I am thankful that illustrators have a knack for fashion design as well. I am longing to stumble across a dress like that for Fiona in some humble thrift store. Happy Spring.