This morning I went to the grocery down the street to pick up a few things for a cook-out we’re going to this afternoon. I came back to find this:
John was reading The Supper of the Lamb to Will, and Will was listening with rapt attention and playing with some toothpicks. I read in a book somewhere that Japanese babies have much better fine motor control than American babies, and that by a year they have a toy that involves putting toothpick-sized pieces of wood into an object with toothpick-sized holes. So I bought a little box of toothpicks, and John is going to drill some tiny holes in it one of these days. But until then Will really enjoys playing with them and sticking them in the holes of a sprouting lid. And picking up strawberries with them. He is clearly a genius.
This is the time of year when Ithaca makes up for the desperately long and cold months of winter. Now, it’s in the 70s most days and when we step out of our front door the air smells like flowers. And the peony bush is about to bloom.