Several mamas, along with our multitude of chilluns, drove out to Bloom Where You’re Planted Farm in Avoca last week. Like an idiot, I tried to locate the farm at 108th Street in Lincoln (note to self: Lincoln is NOT Avoca) and thus arrived a bit on the late side. All motherly gaffes aside, the visit was a joy. Our crazy preschoolers ran around the farm petting cows and attempting to pet horses. Some kids even listened a little bit to the mini-lessons on farming. The highlight of the visit had to be the opportunity to drink milk of multiple hues, including Cotton Candy milk, Rootbeer milk, and Strawberry milk. The good folks at Bloom Where You’re Planted and Legacy Dairy rocked… Thanks for a very fun visit!
For each perfect gift of Thine,
To our race so freely given,
Graces human and divine,
Flowers of earth and buds of Heaven.
Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.
Livia attended her first Husker football game last week. I thought it was pretty cool and, of course, I thought my kid looked pretty cute. Check out Scowly Guy down the row. He didn’t seem to think my wiggly three year old was all that cute.
I can admit I’m a social football fan. Feed me nachos, a slice of pizza or a Fairbury hot dog and I can sit still… for the first half.
I really go to the games because I enjoy the time with my Dad, and the rest of the state of Nebraska. For you non-Nebraskans out there (poor you!), Memorial Stadium becomes the third largest city in the state on game days. We’re fiercely loyal to our college football team because, well, there’s nothing else to do in this state. Football is our thing.
As socially interested as I am in Husker games, I’ve recently been educated somewhat on the actual rules of the sport. Thank you, Friday Night Lights! So now, instead of wondering about what’s going on in the midst of all those players, I just think of Matt Saracen and Tim Riggins (ahem) and it’s all crystal clear. Or maybe not so much.
One thing I know is true: There is no place like Memoral Stadium on game day. The crowd, the noise, the excitement; I love it.
I could take pictures of eggs all the live long day. In the second shot, I placed my favorite dyed egg on the windowsill and asked Liv to give me her favorite one. As you can tell, her “baby bird” was already “hatching”.
Dear Calvin,
I know your mom is a better cook than I am. I also think she’s tidier than I am. In case the second statement is, in fact, true, then let me show you how to make a huge mess—and how to have great fun in the making of the huge mess. You’ll need to open the box that came in the mail, set the playdoh aside, and pull on those cool giraffe boots. Having fun yet? Good. Now, don’t you dare find contentment with wearing those boots indoors, young man. Beg your mama to find you the largest, muddiest puddle in St. Louis and then try to emulate the following shots.
You’ll need to run back and forth in the puddles, splashing the mud way up high in the air.
Sometimes you can stand still and jump, other times you should leap across the water like a frog.
You’ll know you’ve had good clean (ha!) fun when even your knees are filthy. Sometimes the mud comes out of clothes, sometimes it doesn’t, but don’t let that stuff worry you. Your mom will take care of the mess later. It’s your job to have fun with your new giraffe boots. And next time you’re in Lincoln, you and Liv can run puddles together.
Love,
Rebecca
Liv and I were walking. These cute dogs were sitting, oh-so patiently waiting for their master to get something delicious from DaVinci’s restaurant.Two little dogs in a big manly man truck.
I keep reading reports from you Southerners out there. Reports of warm breezes and open doors, of daffodils emerging from their winter homes underground, of taking the kids to parks and playgrounds because it’s so lovely outside. And considering spring is my favorite time of the year, I’ve been turning green with envy. As you can see, life in snow-covered Nebraska continues! For today I will continue to dream of warmer weather as I pull on my Stormtroopers and walk the pathways cleared by the Snow Blower Fairy (ahem, this name was coined by Renae before she knew who cleared our sidewalks; thank you!!).
