Glories of spring, part dos

It was quite a weekend.

The sun towered above us in that cerulean sky.

And the waters of Wooster Pond brought new friends.

Cautiously made. Beauty on the wing must be respected.

An early bite of dinner and a flower for her Mommy. Auntie doesn't mind a bit.

A girl doesn't live on beauty alone. She has to laugh sometimes, too.

And get hugs from big brother.

Celebrating the end of a sparkling weekend.

In the pond between Connecticut and Long Island. Glorious! 

Hope you had a good one, too.

The glories of spring

Every season needs a fairy guide to the pleasures of the season. 

Although I confess that the beauty we find may be a bit, umm, out of the ordinary.

Oh, there are blossoms, to be sure.

But also ancient calligraphy on venerable hide.

Bursts of color in formidable places.

And promise about to unfurl against a cerulean sky. 

A little more write now

A few more examples of words in my journals. Once again, I'll let these speak for themselves. Thanks Michelle, for another great Crusade.

A little wordy

It's GPP Street Team time once again. This month:

Since I'm given to long conversations, I think I'll let these examples of words and art speak for me. Feel free to discuss among yourselves.

All Hail the Queen!

Not THAT queen!

Our queen wouldn't flinch if the First Lady of the USA put her arm around the Royal Person.

I'm talking about the Queen of Arts, the beautiful and inspiring muse who drew my number out of the hat on her Blog-o-versary. Look at the treasures she sent me! I'm tempted to hoard them like a magpie but that would be against the Queen's decree. Love must go out into the world in order to come back, the Queen so wisely advises. So the question becomes -- How to do it? There are a few ideas thrumming through my creaky brain but nothing final. I will repost when something gels.

In the meantime, many grateful thanks, Your Majesty. I look forward to when Mrs. Obama comes to visit your kingdom.

Applause, applause!

It's all over but the shouting. The kids were amazing and my boy did great. I'm still kvelling -- a great old Yiddish word that means to burst with pride. Not only was he the most ornery mayor in Iowa, he kept his cool when the stage lights went off accidentally and kept the show rolling. What a trouper!

It's been an insanely busy couple of weeks, but I didn't want to go to bed without sharing some photos. 

And before I forget, many thanks for not mentioning the fact that I got President Truman's name wrong. *cringe!* I even won a trivia contest once because I knew that the S in Harry S Truman was actually his middle name. But obviously his first name escaped my two or three still firing brain cells. Sigh.

So thanks again for your suggestions and support. And for letting me share!