Thursday, May 01, 2014

Still sunshining.

I will literally never get tired of pictures of Eleanor blowing bubbles. Her little mouth, her concentration, her fuzzy head.

Or of the sunshine. I am going to complain about how it's HOT AS BALLS probably once July kicks in, but know that I am secretly loving it.

My seedlings have rediscovered a will to live.

My squash plants are total douchebags. Look at us, all up over this windowsill. Every gardener should have a squash plant or two, regardless of whether you like them or not, because they make you feel like a badass.

We rode our bikes to the farmer's market this evening, like a bunch of hippies. They're doing a monthly night market this year. In my experience, night markets are all steamed buns and fried squid heads. This is...just the daytime Saskatoon farmer's market, but in the evening. With buskers, and face painting.

We ate what was probably the most locally-sourced and ethical and pretentious meal of my life.

It looks revolting, like a bunch of things cobbled together from a dorm fridge, but it was actually insanely well done. Pickled Benlock beef. Coffee and Prairie Sun Orchard sour cherry baked lentils. They even told you what kind of oil your egg was fried in (Three Farmers' Camelina oil) (the sauce on top of the egg is a brown butter brie sauce, for crying out loud). Eleanor demanded a fork and then took, like, half an hour to eat the lentils, one at a time.

She's very independent these days.

We split a coconut-lime macaron for dessert. 'Iss a little green cake!'

We are a bit of a spectacle, biking down the road. I like Eleanor and Joel to go in front because I like to see people smile at the tiny, delighted dinosaur.

She commentates the entire ride in sound effects. WHeeeeeeee! Brrmmmp brrmmmmp brrrrrrmp. A-CHUNK. That is a puppy oww oww owwwwwooo. If I hear Joel's bell go for no reason, I know who's responsible. And then there's me, eleven months pregnant, following behind on my orange creamcycle. I am ridiculous.

We got home slightly after bedtime, but Eleanor saw me unpack the bag of carrots and she needed to have one please.

She's a butterfly. I can't say 'no.'


Reading Rambo said...

"She commentates the entire ride in sound effects. WHeeeeeeee! Brrmmmp brrmmmmp brrrrrrmp. A-CHUNK. That is a puppy oww oww owwwwwooo."

Eleanor and I would get along super-well.

Amy said...

I can't believe how much she looks like her dad! I predict that one in four of your kids will look like you.
And I still stand by my belief that the next one will sleep.