Happy Mother’s Day!Oh Spring. These past weeks have been so full. Mostly of the best things. Time in the sun. Time at the beach (the river version and the ocean version). Time in the garden. And, yes, most of this time spent with my little helper/mess maker at my side.
Yesterday morning we set out on our usual route to the river (the Trinity River in northern California, for those of you wondering), ample snacks and sand toys loaded into the well worn stroller that my growing son is nearly bursting out of. At last we arrive. Reed takes to the serious activity of making mud while I sneak out my sock for a few rounds. (If you happen to keep tabs on my Instagram feed, you may have noticed this sock has gotten a lot of face time with the river in the background. Progress has been slow. But steady. Thankfully we go to the river at least once or twice a week.) I had to laugh out loud today when my precious skein of yarn tumbled down the sandy slope and splashed into the river. Call it a pre-blocking soak. The recipient of these socks will enjoy the dual benefit of hand-knit wool and exfoliation. Frequent trips to the river have left the sock with a special gritty quality.
Knitting in the wild is not without its hazards.
The spring weather has everything growing gangbusters! The hills and our garden! Reed picked all of these peas by himself. He was so proud. This is time of year, my fridge is bursting from the spring harvest and I find myself continually wondering why on earth I thought I needed to plant 24 heads of lettuce, all of which ripen on the same day. Ditto with the broccoli, spinach, and everything else. I have enough ripe vegetables to feed an army (but no army) and so many weeds to abate that I truly do need said army to feed just for some help to keep up with the chore. I think I have previously mused in this space that anyone who tells you gardening is anything more than constantly weeding is simply fibbing. To be generous.
There is so much to celebrate lately. My birthday. Mother’s Day! An anniversary. This means there has been one bottle of champagne uncorked after the other. So much indulgence. I like to let the champagne corks fly off the front porch into my flower beds when I pop the bottle. Later when I come across them again (while weeding), I remember back to the happy time, cork throttling threw the air amidst merriment.
Despite all the busyness of daily life and special occasions, I have managed to sneak in an occasional cocktail on the front porch, lingering in the not-too-hot spring sun, flipping pages in a new knitting magazine and risking a few rows. This particular Bloody Mary was concocted with last summer’s tomatoes and garnished with freshly pickled asparagus from the garden. Yum. When faced with an abundance of garden bounty, one is forced to eat AND drink the harvest to keep up. It’s a requirement, actually.I know summer is only moments away. Just yesterday I ventured onto my beloved floaty for my first pool float of the season.* It was glorious! Reed is finally old enough now that I can actually float in peace for a ten minute stretch, just looking up at the clouds in the sky or watching my sweet child skip about the yard, collecting flowers and leaves for Top Secret three-year-old projects. Those are the moments when I reflect on my life and feel complete. Nothing is missing. It’s all there. My family. My passion in yarn. Beautiful sun. Bountiful garden and rural beauty.
I am counting my blessings, feeling grateful, and on my way to put up the mint I just dried en masse for a summer’s worth of sun tea with honey. Watch out world. Hear I come.
*I maintain that floating in the pool on a floaty should be an Olympic sport. The winner will have the slowest pulse short of death. I will be the reining champion to defeat! Think you can beat be? Game on!