Day 1: There are ten new hearts beating in my home. Welcome, little ones!

Day 2: My goodness they are noisy! They really do say “peep, peep.” They are little balls of fluff. So awesome and adorable! They fall asleep in our hands when we hold them.

Day 3: Our boys got to show their babies to some friends. They are doing great! The peeps sleep often, but wake so easily. They are pecking at each other’s eyes and beaks, but they don’t seem to be causing any harm.

Day 4: Our baby peeps are practicing their chicken behaviors. Today they are scratching and pecking in their litter and they are only about five days old. They also have rapidly growing wing feathers!

Day 4: The little ones nap a lot during the day. But now it’s evening and they are peeping up a storm! Pipe down, baby chickens! It’s sleeping time.

We have come to call this one Chestnut; she is a fuzzy Ameraucana. Eventually, she will lay green or blue eggs.

Day 5: Five days into raising baby chicks, we still have all ten. (Phew!) They are growing so fast and they all have beautiful small wing feathers now! They didn’t have these when we first go them last Thursday, February 17. And for the record, cleaning baby chicken butts ranks right up there among the weirdest things I’ve ever done. It must be done or they can die from “pasting up.” Yeah, it’s just as icky as it sounds.

Day 6: The hot topic of conversation on the Tuesday morning of a week off school is what to name our ten baby chicks. We can finally tell the two from each breed apart, except for the two yellow Buff Orpingtons, whom I think of as “the Twins.” Under consideration are the following names: Chestnut, Dawn. Lightning, Moonlight, Sunshine, Buttercup, Storm, Thunder, Summer, and Firefly. These names would go so nicely with our hens Sunrise, Fireball, Snowdrift, Avalanche, and Midnight, don’t ya think?

Day 6: Wowza! One chick, Dawn (above), was found this evening perched on the top edge of the brooder box! It’s time to rig up that top to keep them inside. A crocheted blanket clipped onto the box with binder clips will do nicely for now.

Lightning, a Light Brahma

Sunshine and Buttercup, the two Buff Orpingtons; we may never be able to tell these two apart!

Day 7: Now I see tail feathers coming in!

Day 9: The chicks are now so active in their plastic tote brooder box that their watering device is constantly getting clogged with the littler they scratch up. I’ve gotten up at 3 a.m. the last two nights to clean it out so they have access to drinking water. The heat lamp is very hot and they drink a lot! Better litter must be purchased.

Day 9: They fly.

Day 11: “Sara, the chicks are now having [unassisted] out-of-box experiences,” Ian reported. Moonlight flew up and out of the box, and then couldn’t figure out where she was or where everybody went. Ian rigged up a chicken wire box top to keep them inside.

Day 12: All of the babies now have fancy epaulets on their shoulders, like feathered generals.

Day 13: My goodness the chicks are active now—and fast! They are also easily about twice their original, just-hatched size. Firefly, a Welsummer, is still littlest. The two Welsummers have stripes down their backs like chipmunks.

Last weekend we got to spend a beautiful day at our local Patriot Park with friends. It’s so local, we were able to walk there from our home. This park was an undeveloped field known as “Future Park” for the better part of 20 years. It’s pretty awesome now, although it was wonderful as a wild place, too.

The kiddos had a blast playing. Lucas showed us how he can do the monkey bars now! He has tried for so many years and now he can do it! Very exciting.

I got to take photos of my darlings under the almond trees, which I had been eyeing for a few days.

We got to clown about. Our darling Headra was visiting us!

We took some portraits of the delightful H kids …

and some of my handsome guys.

Lucas climbed a tree.

Asher tagged along after R, who is very sweet to him. The sky was very dramatic after the rainstorm of the night before. It felt so nice to be outdoors and surrounded by the scent of almond blossoms.

The walk home felt a little long for the kiddos, but the hot chocolate at the end proved to be a sufficient reward.

Early spring skies can be so dramatic, especially after a rain. Sometimes I forget to look up. When I remember to do so, I’m always richly rewarded.

One day last weekend, after a heavy rainstorm, we walked to a local park with some friends. I had to visit the almond trees there. It was one of those days when the sun peeked out from behind heavy gray and cotton white clouds.

I know it is still winter, technically, and huge swaths of the country are still covered in mountains of snow, but around here, we’re having some lovely, sunny days and trees everywhere are leafing out and blossoming.

Almond flowers smell divine, and they litter the ground in white petal snow.

It may be the suburbs, but there is beauty everywhere. It’s my mission to seek it out. To notice. To let it fill me up and sustain me.

Across the street from my home, my neighbor has one of the largest magnolia trees (also called tulip trees) I’ve ever seen. I love it. When it blooms in February, it is spectacular and I wait eagerly for it  all winter. The flowers are large, almost the size of my hand, and the tree is easily 35 feet tall. Although it’s not a unique characteristic of this tree, it still never ceases to amaze me that the magnolia’s giant flowers spring from completely bare branches. It’s as if the spirit of the tree gets so excited for the coming spring, it cannot even wait for its pale green leaves to form before bursting out in blooms. I will watch it become engulfed in pink, and hope the rains hold off a little while to give it time to flower.

These little signs make me happy. More rain next week!

Unfolding leaves

Blossoms on trees

Fattening lilac buds

Tulips coming up

Fruit tree flowers

Buds on the neighbor’s magnolia tree

Snowdrops at Lucas’s school

Buds on my plum trees

Lone primrose survivor

One of our recent nature walks is featured on Imagine Childhood. We are grateful that our little local adventure attracted Sarah’s notice via our Flickr photos, and that she asked us to participate with other families from all over the world!

There are so many marvelous things to see and feel and discover when you hit the trails. Just pick a general destination, pack along some water and snacks, and let your children lead the way.

Ian laid these beautiful flagstones in April after a painstaking process of leveling the ground. This path leads from our backyard patio off the kitchen to our side yard, where we hide our garbage and recycling cans. The ground cover we planted between the stones is growing in beautifully. Here’s the before shot from April 26th, when it was about two-thirds planted.

Here it is on May 31st.

All three ground covers—chamomile lawn, pennyroyal, and ajuga (chocolate chip variety)—have really expanded. It remains to be seen how they cope with the Sacramento summertime heat. Two of the three types smell lovely and the pennyroyal is supposed to be an insect repellent, which sounded like a good thing to plant near our patio.

I still want to plant more summer veggies and herbs to the left of the path. We only have some chard, zucchini, mint, parsley, and a few beans growing now. Our soil is so heavy with clay that it really needs tons of amendment. To the right, we have a lovely patch of rosemary, oregano, and sage. All of these are thriving.

It’s weird how one can feel opposite feelings about the same thing. For example, I felt both

grateful

and disappointed

about doing this today, on Memorial Day:

So, to care for and console myself, I took a ten-minute break outside in my garden to look at these:

Green and purple hydrangea buds

Squirrel in my pecan tree

Nasturtiums grown from seed

Dusty miller buds about to pop

Pansies

Mexican primrose and African daisies

More nasturtiums grown from seed

Day lily

And now I feel

reenergized

amazed

galvanized

and happy.

I

This morning, Asher and I counted ten snails in a three-foot by three-foot area. Fortunately, they were in a neighbor’s yard and not mine. As we walked to school, we found shapes all over! Circles and rectangles and triangles and squares and even half circles. We found them in pavement, in lawns, on houses, on mailboxes. Two water department access openings in one lawn made two eyes and another circle was the nose, Asher noticed. We saw a brown squirrel hop up a telephone pole, using his claws to grip—hop, hop, hop—like a lumberjack with spiked shoes and a belt, and then he sat on the top of the pole. He booted a bird off this tall perch. Asher said, “Silly skwool!” We also worked on the concepts of near and far. As we get nearer to school each day he says, “We’re nearer, Mom. We’re getting nearer.” Counting cars went like this: one, two, three, four, eight, sixteen. (Sometimes it goes in the traditional order you would expect.) We made Important Observations. For example, one neighbor has a flowerbed with flowers of every color of the rainbow—even blue! Asher observed, “That tree is like a man. Why’s he all tall and fuzzy like that?” My hypothesis: “Because he’s a tree?”

II

After school, Asher begged to have a snack and a “couple minutes out of the bed.” That’s his delaying nap tactic. Fine with me. I know that if I try to put him down too soon after coming home, he’ll fake it. He’ll go through all the motions of going to nap, listening to three or four stories and snuggling close with his hand down my shirt, and then he’ll bolt the minute the last story is done. So today, we sat in the window seat and watched as the weird thunderstorm pelted the garden with rain, blew the trees about, and pounded on my flowers. Asher asked for some celery with peanut butter. But we were out of celery, so I gave him carrot and some peanut butter. He’s 3 and he isn’t set in traditional food pairings. And with rain pouring down, what else was there to do but pull out the camera?

III

Dinner was freezer pot sticker dumplings and organic broccoli—because sometimes you don’t get to the store for, well, too many days in a row. While we ate, Lucas and Daddy did math. We practiced our 12s times tables, the last set that Lucas has to recite to get the final star on his math chart. The after-dinner discos of the last few nights have been brought to us by They Might Be Giants and Schoolhouse Rock. My favorite? “Conjunction Junction,” which we heard tonight. Lucas wanted “Lolly, Lolly, Lolly Get Your Adverbs Here.” Ian’s partial to the patriotic songs, but then he’s weird. He played David Bowie (of course) singing the Door’s “Alabama Song (Whiskey Bar).” Asher’s question: “Why those creepy people singing, Dada?” Somehow the subject leaped from David Bowie to the film “Labyrinth.” Which Lucas has never seen. Nevertheless, he immediately registered his deep hatred of muppets. I might finally have hit on the key concept, might just have pulled out the lynchpin in the whole muppet phobia. “Lucas, you want to someday see ‘Star Wars,’ right?” He emphatically nodded yes. “Dude! It’s full of muppets! YODA is a MUPPET. Muppets are cool.” We’ll let him process that and see what happens.

You may be bored with these spring pictures posts but I’m not. I seem to be endlessly fascinated with small things lately; they are unbelievably intricate if you look closely.

This blackberry maiden is being visited by her bee paramour, who is all up in her business.

I like the tangle and riot of color that makes up wild places.

Maypole top and blue sky.

This is redwood sorrel on the forest floor at Muir Woods. When the sun shines too brightly on this shade-loving plant, it folds its leaves down to minimize the exposure.

I’ve never really gardened from seed before. This spring Lucas and I put a variety of seeds directly in the ground or in pots. So far we seem to be having good luck with the corn, pumpkins, chard, cucumber, nasturtiums, morning glories, and four o’clocks. It’s kind of a miracle when the little seedling emerges from the earth! If they thrive it will be another miracle.

Blue is rather rare among plants. We found this wildflower at Indian Grinding Rock in April.

Red seeds soar above the Japanese maple in my backyard. To me they look like birds in flight.

Our morning walks to preschool have become really special to me. Asher and I only have to walk five blocks, but blocks around here in our country-like suburban neighborhood (without sidewalks!) are variable in length. We get to talk about all sorts of important things, like where the water goes when it drains into the grate and the different birds that we hear, including chickens, woodpeckers, and songbirds. There’s plenty of chatter from him, too. He tells me what colors the pine cones in Dreamland are and how he is a brave knight who has a sword and a bow with which to fight the bad guys. We watch the frisky squirrels chase each other, pick up sticks and unwanted dandelions, and feel the bumpy plants (sedum murale?) growing in a rock wall.

The only kind of bad thing about our morning walk is that we have to be careful of the traffic from parents dropping their children off at our local public school, which is just a couple of doors down from our home. Our neighborhood is normally very quiet, but the daily getting-to-school time is busier. Still, it’s good practice for Asher. He’s learning how to stay on the very edge of the road or walk along the verge. And more often than not, I see smiles on the faces of the drivers that pass us with wider than necessary berths. I have to admit, Asher’s pretty damned cute as he marches merrily along, blond hair bouncing, or balances atop a curb or wall with arms outstretched.

Today it was something new.

“I gonna run! I gonna get my exercise.”

< Mama evaluates the traffic situation >

“OK.”

“You run too, Mama! You could run fast like me.”

< running >

“I faster than you!”

“You are very fast. You’re a good runner.”

< Mama jogs >

“Faster, Mama. Run faster! You run faster like me.”

< Asher pauses >

“I really exercised!”

“Yes, you did.”

“I gonna rest a minute.”

“OK. You catch your breath.”

I can’t really get in shape by walking five blocks and back twice a day, but I sure can enjoy the trip.