The sap’s clearly running, and pollen swirls in the tops of puddles and streams. All around the daycare center, there’s evidence of new potential students, as mothers of Ben’s classmates waddle in with bellies or carriers.
But the peonies in the backyard – not the boring, omnipresent rhodies – the lush, sensuous, small-creature sized blossoms are enough to put me over the edge into barefoot and …. territory. Even in the face of sleep-deprivation, or the financial demands of a second sprog, those pink beauties are driving practice runs, so many bees and blossoms keeping us from the sterile hums of 520 and the dishwasher.