No pictures this time, though I sure wish I had thought to get a shot of Barry Nevin and Tommy Bassett, whom I met at the post office on Monday afternoon (the three of us were partners in crime back in junior high - don't ask), as well as Doris Ward, Sally Snipes, and Abby Leighton down at the thrift shop on Tuesday.
For some reason, except for a few shots of East Chop Light, which caught my fancy on Monday afternoon, and a little photo/video session with the new grand-babe (now nearly five weeks old) on Tuesday, the camera mostly stayed right in my bag.
But it was a great couple of days in town this week - highlighted by my first baby-sitting session with the new wee-one, which included a walk around town, with Ethan snuggled into the Moby-wrap, just as I used to carry his daddy and uncle and aunt in the carrier of those days, an orange corduroy Snugli; seems like five minutes ago, and a fun "MTV" movie-making session: Sing-along with Grammie, starring Ethan and grammie.
I was reminded by my friend James, who walks past my house often and knows the story of my mother's crocii, when he mentioned last week that he had seen them starting to poke their heads up, that it was time to get out there and clean up the winter debris from the front lawn, which I managed to get done yesterday in my final moments before heading back "off". There's something wonderfully satisfying about that first raking session of the season; getting the large muscle group working after so many months' dormancy, plus seeing and smelling the dirt again, and seeing all those tender, pale green shoots starting to break through. Wonderful. And considering the nature of this chore - providing my mother's sea of purple and white crocii (that started with maybe a dozen bulbs she through intp the ground in the front yard, circa 1990) a clear, clean area in which to burst forth in all their glory, which they do every year the exact week of the anniversary of her death - it's one I hardly mind. In fact, it's a joy.
