The weather has definitely turned, with the apple-crisp tang at the back of the breeze that means fall is around the corner. Historically, the days between my anniversary (21) and birthday (23) are the most beautiful of the season...sunny and warm but with brisk, promising air. I'm still holding out hope for some of that Indian summer magic...the party is set to be outdoors, the dinner part at least, but so far this week it has been rather rainy. We'll need a Plan B. (I'm thinking buffet, Nayb). And JP, I'd pack a rain coat if I were you. Just in case.
Tonight The Neighbor and I are making large pots of daube for the party. It's going to be gorgeous food.
The mountain ash tree is wearing its autumnal garb. Isn't it beautiful? It fills me with delight. Almost as much delight as the fact that the Countdown to JP is now at 2 days. Giddiness ensues.
My to do list for today stretches from my elbow to my wrist so I'd best get to it. Happy busyness.
There are 3 days in the year when it is very easy to get The Child out of bed: Christmas, her birthday and May Day. This morning, at 6:45 (15 minutes earlier than her usual wake-up time), with nothing more than a "Time to get up, dolly", she was up and dressed and ready to deliver May baskets.
Leaving May baskets seems to be a dying art. I am resolved to carry it forward into the next generation. (I understand that my sister, Martha Stewart, is equally determined). Our children have learned how simple it is to bring great pleasure to neighbors by leaving a little boquet on their door step.
The enterprise began last night, with The Child filling a tub with lilacs, weigelia, blue bells, rosemary blossoms, mountain ash blooms and rhodedendrons. After dinner, as The Spouse and I sat down to start our May Day eve viewing of "Reds" (long movie, takes us a couple evenings) she went to the kitchen to bash woody stems with a hammer and arrange her baskets (in this case, Mason jars). Then she went off to bed. When we stopped the movie for the night, this was the sight that greeted us:
There were 11 neighbors destined for baskets this morning. It is very important to The Child that she be sneaky about it. This can be difficult given factors like creaking stairs and barking dogs. But only one neighbor saw her at her task and that was ok because she got a hug.
When she arranges her boquets she wants to make sure that everyone has an equal number and variety of blossoms. She carefully selects which arrangement goes to which door.
Then sneaking on tippy toe toward the house
she deposits her offering just so, far enough from the door that no one knocks it over before spying it.
It's a lovely way to begin the merry month of May. It rained last night but was only the merest bit overcast this morning. There was a sweetness in the air, lilac and daphne, and it felt good to be out in the cool, watching The Child skipping and grinning as she brightened doorsteps.
We met this very handsome fellow while we were out. Had I met him in my garden I would have plucked him up and settled him on a saucer of salt but as he was just taking his morning constitutional a block from my garden, I let him be. May Day amnesty.
Then we went home, saluted the mountain ash tree that was planted 10 years ago today and made cinnamon-raisin bread into French toast.
While I focus on the Celtic side of May Day, The Spouse will be walking around calling everyone "comrade", wishing he had a tank to roll down the street and bollocking the words to "The Internationale". So here's a shout out to all the unions, the people who brought you the weekend.
