a promise

It was 100% too cold for my children to be swimming and wading at one of their favorite haunts a few weeks ago.  Little M insisted upon sleeveless and shorts, fell in, and sat next to me, her teeth chattering, while Z hunted down the little boys, who had made an expedition further upstream.  When the boys saw how wet M was, they immediately threw off their shirts and went underwater completely.  It was a soggy hike back to the car, but at least the sun was shining.  We snagged a praying mantis nest along the way.  Last year we found one in the same place and hatched three baby mantises.  They were totally adorable!  We released them into our backyard to feast on spotted lanternflies.  We don't know if the one we have now is full or empty?  Time will tell. (There were many more where we found this one.)

Spring has been fighting to arrive.  Cold, gray, and blustery one day, sunny and temperate the next, the weather is making our heads spin.  I've managed to plant a few bleeding hearts in the bare spot between our house and driveway, which feels like an enormous accomplishment.  Pat me on the back, please.  Also in that spot, I've noticed the beginnings of actual lily-of-the-valley flowers!  I planted several bulbs there in the fall of 2018.  Until this spring, we've only ever seen two lonely leaves.  Fr. G asked if he could "weed" them, but I've held my ground: "Just leave them alone.  Maybe someday we'll see something."  I'm so glad I did!  I've read that lily-of-the-vally can take over wherever it's planted.  I suppose all that's required is patience and faith, two things that I need to work on.  Same, same with the milkweed I planted last year.  I lovingly raised six or seven plants from seed and transplanted them to a little spot (hoping to make a screen around our unsightly outdoor AC units) in the backyard.  They were hopelessly scraggly and never grew very tall, although they hosted several varieties of milkweed-loving pollinators.  They never bloomed, which I expected.  Apparently milkweed needs at least a season to establish a good root system.  But look at all the plants emerging where just one was last year!  I'm trying not to count my chickens before they hatch (or flowers before they bloom, as it were), but this summer promises to be a blooming one.