This week, with the last of the exams behind us and final grades submitted, we begin the process of shifting gears from the school term to summer break.
I really clean my house only two times a year - once in the spring, after school is over, and once in the fall, after a hard freeze kills the spiders outside. Yeah, twice a year. I know that sounds pretty disgusting, but I've learned to survive the mess.
This morning, the kids and I began mapping out the spring cleaning. Today - we tackle the kitchen countertops, the glove and hat bin in the laundry room, and the porch. If today is incredibly productive, tomorrow we can perhaps deal with the cobwebs in the den, bookshelves, and a few windows. Exciting life we lead, here on the farm!
Even with the traditional school's-over-so-we-can-finally-clean routine, this is a weird spring. For the first time since moving to Obion County, we don't have a garden. Mr. Bubby, my white-haired neighbor from a couple of miles down the road, didn't make his usual rounds with the tiller. Which is probably a good thing. I worried about him toodling up and down the highway on his little tractor - drivers out here are crazy, and there have been so many awful wrecks on Highway 21. We have asparagus and the strawberry beds, and Ben scratched up a few mounds for canteloupe, but I'm really going to miss the Granny Mattie beans.
Nate asked this morning what we were going to do with all our time this summer, without a garden to work in. Don't worry Nate - I've got plans! Plans like cleaning out the junk room, and maybe the attic. Writing. Visiting the grandbaby. Yep, I imagine summer will fly by like it usually does!
Except that these last three days have positively dragged past, like an inebriated sloth. Tom left Sunday for boot camp, and I've had a stomach ache ever since. Eighty-seven days to go...
Looks like it will be one of those seasons when the days pass slowly, but the months fly by. Already, I am eager for August.
found an old poem from baby felix
3 weeks ago