Yesterday, in the perfect state which exists somewhere between thoroughly tired from a Sunday afternoon bike ride and bathtime meltdown, both girls wanted to paint. We made trees, ranging from spring time pastels to Leah’s giant verdant oak and Eve’s ghostly winter tree just bursting into leaf along one branch.
This is the window box in Eve and Leah’s bedroom. It’s the first time I’ve successfully grown tulips without slug or squirrel carnage and I’m loving the contrast of the flowers against the neighbouring brick wall.
With so many signs of spring inside as well as out, it cracks me up that the most common answer I get to my question, “Eve, what season is it?”