Adelaide was a little puny still this morning, but she was determined to return to school, as the final drum audition is today. I wish I could better explain the latter part of the previous sentence, but our elementary schools have a wackadoodle process to introduce the young'uns to band, and all I know is she had to pass some sort of preliminary test, and has been "recommended" for the drums or the clarinet. She is excited to play either instrument. No one asked my opinion. I'm praying for drums, which says a lot about just how painful it is to hear someone learn to play the clarinet. And don't even get me started on those disgusting reeds they're constantly having to moisten. *whispers desperately* Please, God, not the clarinet.
Speaking of band:
Nothing sends Caedmon rushing out to our front yard at 7:45 AM in his footie pajamas and wrapped in his blanket like a middle school marching band. It used to march past our house on a regular basis and all the kids absolutely loved it, but since there was a district building change-up a couple years ago, we don't get to enjoy the sound of middle schoolers playing the Jackson 5 past our house very often. Believe it or not, that makes me very sad. We love marching bands- even Atticus, who used to harbor a fear that one was hiding in his closet at night. Gah, I love that kid.
It's been raining more often than not this week, which means this was my view much of the time:
Our children think standing under a black-on-top, blue-sky-underneath umbrella is somehow the best joke ever.
I looked out the window yesterday morning and pranced right outside in the rain to stare at this gorgeous, vivid rainbow- then got to see it over and over later in the day, as my local friends were apparently equally entranced and got some beautiful photos to share on social media.
This morning was our second garage sale-ing expedition of the season, and Caedmon and I emerged victorious, with beaucoup clothes for little money. Our youngest son is a patient shopper when it comes to garage sales, probably aided by the fact that he gets multiple compliments from various hosts. ("What a good little shopper you have!" "That is so nice of you to hold all those clothes for your mom!" "I hope some of these things are for you, you're being so good!") I don't know if this is due to Caedmon's personality or just that he's a youngest child and has thus spent most of his life being dragged around to places he doesn't particularly want to go.
A friend brought me flowers, neither of which couldn't be any more perfect.
And just to round out a post full of lovely, lovely things: