celebrating green {a day late?}

This wasn't meant to be a St. Patrick's Day post. It isn't really a day late. However, I have been enjoying taking pictures of green things in my little world and wanted to share. We are celebrating green because green means less white. It means spring is on its way and new life is emerging from the dark, cold underworld. Green is definitely something to celebrate!

New green life.

Green chalk board and green chalk. Chalkboards make me happy. 

Fresh milk in glass bottles, delivered one block over. We walked to fetch it yesterday. That made me very happy.

Josiah wears green just about every day. But I won't remember the wardrobe preferences of my eight year old unless I write it down. Or take a photograph.

Army green. Every surface is an opportunity for war.

The freedoms of homeschooling: learning letters in a green dragon habit.

Surrounded by green. My stone garden bunny {the only kind of bunny I want in my garden} is also my snow-depth measure. The picture below was taken just ten days prior. If you've ever wondered what a depressed stone bunny looked like...

goodbye, snow!

Birds are returning and filling the mornings with their happy song and the mountains of snow in our yard and around the neighborhood are becoming slushy hills. The first hints of spring do wonders for one's soul. I enjoy snow much more when I know it is on its way out.

While Josiah is grieving the end of winter, his mother is rejoicing. We made it through, one more time! Here are some pictures of a family frolic around the block the day it hit 50 degrees.

So you can appreciate how much snow has accumulated in our front yard and feel sorry for us... :)

Bereket got himself dressed to go running with his daddy. Pretty sure his hat is backwards.

I was admiring the pristine snow over the yard of an elderly neighbor, the way the shadows of the birch trees fell near the lone oak leaf, settled in softly on the glistening white, and then my crew came around the corner of the sidewalk with their snowballs flying, except for my littlest man who cut the corner and made his mark on that lovely, blank canvas. I wonder if Mrs. Sample minded the mess we made of her yard and sidewalk.

I love freshly fallen snow. I love the way our backyard looks before boots find it. Reflections absorbed me as I stood there on the sidewalk while my boys battled it out and I was reminded that messy, trampled snow is the result of life being enjoyed upon it. I was transported twenty years into the future and I missed my little boys.

Life is messy. Life lived in a house means dirty toilets and fingerprints on every reflective surface and blankets strewn over the floors... again. Life lived outside means trampled down snow and muddy yards where grass won't grow and soccer balls in your flower beds. I have to remind myself to appreciate life when it means mess. I am not ready to be the single, old lady sitting in her house, looking out at her beautiful yard that shows no signs of child-life. And when I am that old lady, I don't want to regret the years I had children and wished away the mess.

Ah. Little feet pattering on the wood floors upstairs. I love that sound in the mornings. Time to conclude.