the Wise Robin

spring | book basket

 

 

It always amazes me, the earth's cycles, how perfectly everything fits together. Citrus in winter for sniffly noses, harvest time when the pantry is down to the last, colour in spring to farewell the simple tones of winter, sweet, dribbling fruits to quench summer's thirst & a fresh book basket & nature table when all has gone a little stale. I've met  spring with open arms this year. Ordinarily I lament the passing of the cooler months, but with a small, resolute soul by my side who needs to move, explore & embrace, the warmer days, longer evenings & outdoor time is most welcome. Gathering seasonal books for a fresh book basket is a wonderful way to say hello to the new season. Here are our spring reads.

 

Miss Rumphius | Barbara Cooney

Spring Story | Jill Barklem

Spring | Gerda Muller

Hannah On The Farm | Marjan van Zeyl

The Bee Who Spoke: The Wonderful World of Belle & The Bee | Al MacCuish

The Honeybee Man | Lela Nargi & Kyrsten Brooker

Pelle's New Suit | Elsa Beskow

The Season's Of Arnold's Apple Tree| Gail Gibbons

Where Do They Go When It Rains | Gerda Muller

A First Book of Nature | Nicola Davies

A Seed Is Sleepy | Dianna Hutts Ashton & Syliva Long

Mother Earth & Her Children | Sibylle Von Olfers

Caterpillar Butterfly | Vivian French

A Butterfly Is Patient | Dianna Hutts Ashton & Syliva Long

Persephone | Sally Pomme Clayton

Roots, Shoots, Buckets & Boots | Sharon Lovejoy

Finn Family Moomintroll | Tove Jansson

Emily & Daisy | Elsa Beskow

Grandfather Twilight | Barbara Berger

Waddle Giggle Gargle | Pamela Allen

The Bee Tree | Patricia Polacco

My Mama Had  A Dancing Heart | Libba Moore Gray

The Beeman | Laurie Krebs & Valeria Cis

It's Spring | Linda Glaser

Cloud Dance | Thomas Locker

The Very Hungry Caterpillar | Eric Carle

Birds : A Child's First Book About Our Most Familiar Birds | A Little Golden Book by Jane Werner Watson

Two Little Gardeners | A Little Golden Book by Margaret Wise Brown & Edith Thatcher Hurd

Wonders of Nature | A Little Golden Book By Jane Werner Watson

The Lost Lagoon: Spring Tales of Tiptoes Lightly, The Lost Lagoon & Eggs For The Hunting | Reg Down

 

 

 

 

 

light

 

 

 

This spring energy has got us all moving. Just this evening I gave the kitchen a deep clean while the girls bathed. You know all those little nitty gritty things that get glossed over for a while until you can't stand looking at them any longer... dirty fingerprints on walls & door jambs, grubby windows,  fridge doors overloaded with artworks & old shopping lists, crumbs in the pantry...all gone. We've been spending all our time out in the garden this week, weeding, digging, planting, the house chores kind of fell by the wayside. Piles of books stacking up on the couch, piles of laundry stacking up on the bed, the girls' craft projects stacking up in the corners, snow gear that still needs putting away. Now that the garden has been spring cleaned my attention has turned to the house. I moved some furniture around & tidied, cleaned & filed in the library yesterday, took stock of what craft supplies are needed & even nutted out next terms school plan. I've got my eye on the linen cupboard & wardrobes next.  The days are warm but the winds are tinged chilly & we still have the heat on in the mornings and evenings. I've been waking unintentionally early, four or five o'clock, listening to the birds, loud in the dawn light, watching the sun creep between the blinds, waiting for Niamh's call at five thirty sharp. "Awake", she calls simply. I take her some milk, a cuddle & try to persuade...even though the birds are calling, she needs to snuggle in a half hour longer. I've  been weaning her slowly for the past six months & we're down to nursing just once a day, before bed time. We converted her cot to the bed as she was climbing in & out anyway. She's loving it & sleeping more soundly at night now. Of my two girls Niamh is certainly the most spirited. More intense, persistent, sensitive & energetic. She must be about to make a half birthday developmental leap because right now I'm finding all the negotiation & tantrums a challenge. I love my sweet pea chickadee but she's hard work. 

There are so many good things about spring. Bush flowers, midday walks, muddy puddles, blossoms indoors & out, light, frocks...especially those made by dear friends, did I mention light, busyness & the satisfying tiredness it brings, salad greens from the garden, soups making a stage left from the menu, BBQ's, eating outdoors, green newness, fresh book baskets & seasonal tables, makeshift garden tents & giggling girls, beetroots & silver beet & snow peas & spring onions & garlic & sunflowers & potatoes & rhubarb all smiling at me from the garden as I sit & knit in the afternoon sun. I t's time to throw open the doors & windows, let the spring breezes dance on in.

 

 

 

 

 

one time the sun

 

twenty six

birthday to birthday. one turn around the sun. one photo a week. fifty two photos in all

to the mountains

 

 

 To the mountains we did go on the weekend! We've had such warm weather the past few weeks that there really wasn't much snow left at all. Mwah. But Mama got her fix of mountain air & Niamh & Zahra got their bonhomme de neige, albeit a little patchy but sweet looking in the end. Niamh carried his carrot nose all the way from home never  letting it leave her sight until it was firmly stuck in his face. His glasses, hat & I suspect eyes & arms were secondhand from all the other melted piles dotted here & there. We tobogganned for a while but ended up walking to the nordic bowl to enjoy the spring sunshine.

My heart is in the mountains. They are what I love more than anything else, more than the seaside, more than the river. The big forests of Mountain Ash, the alpine heath, the gnarled snow gums, the winding climb, the cooler air, the ancient,grounding energy. By the time we wind down the mountain I feel balanced & peaceful.

 I declare that next year is going to be cross country skiing year. I've been wanting to learn for a few seasons now, really since my body's been feeling older & with littles in tow. Spending snow days on my board doesn't hold much appeal anymore. It some odd way it feels like I've grown up, like when you discover certain types of music now hurts your ears. 

Everyday since we put our feet firmly back on the river flats Niamh's been asking to go to the snow and hauling out bits and bobs from the piles of snow gear I've yet to put away.

 

 

 

 

one time the sun

 

 

twenty five

birthday to birthday. one turn around the sun. one photo a week. fifty two photos in all

ten

 

 

At ten you are saving for your first car (a lime green mini !) & are still as in love with succulents as you were when you used to toddle around the plant nursery, disappearing, only to be found in the succulent section. At ten you aspire to collect the entire Asterix series, want to be a gardener, professional horse rider or a fashion designer. At ten you prefer to sleep with your blinds open so you can see all the shadows outside your window. At ten you aced your first cello exam, need lots of time alone, always have a pile of books by your bedside & still love to climb trees. At ten you love making clothes for your dolls, cooking pancakes & building fairy houses. At ten you are wishing you could stay up all night, wanting to live on a farm with your own black horse (me too baby girl) & waiting to grow taller. At ten you are wondering if fairies truly exist & are watching for signs of them in your fairy house. At ten you are hoping it doesn't rain tomorrow so you can go horseriding, marvel at another birthday with perfect weather, wear anything but skirts, & are beginning to notice social injustice. At ten you are still admiring that pegasus figurine in the toy store, dislike avocado, stir fry, keeping your room tidy, maths & large groups of people. At ten your favourite colour is purple & your favourite food spaghetti. You are ten, double digits, growing up so fast. You tell me you feel older & ask me how I felt at ten. At ten I most definitely wasn't thinking as far ahead as owning a car. I was madly & still am madly in love with horses. At ten I was scared of the shadows outside my window & loved spaghetti with a big glass of milk. At ten I rode my bike a lot & read books as voraciously as you. At ten I couldn't knit the way you do & my favourite colour was aquamarine. At ten I was scared of growing up, I felt like I was in a limbo land between childhood & adulthood. But you my love are itching to grow into yourself. It is so bittersweet for a Mama...seeing the little girl fade yet watching you grow. You are my moon, my stars, my sun sweet girl. Happy Birthday chookie, so blessed to be your Mama.