They fly so fast, Grammy!

A three-year old boy can seldom be depended upon to be still and quiet. He can seldom wait until something will happen, but my grandson Thomas will watch carefully while life buzzes around him. He examines, analyzes, and finds it.

My "girls" (gr-daughters) were eleven and nine at the time, and he thought they were his, that they belonged to him. Between them, they filled our house with joy.

In 2015, my little man walked with me to meet a friend across the street from our house. He and his parental units were visiting from England, so we raced about from ocean to museums to playground to...

But, this day Thomas was mine to enjoy. And that was what we found across the street: amazement.

She wasn't home, but her hummingbirds were. Thomas squatted down quietly like a statue, wordless and eyes wide open. They were there, in their bold flight. Thomas held his hands folded in his lap, watching intently. And I watched him.

We didn't go back, why I don't know. Thomas wanted to see my friend who was gone for a few days. But the hummingbirds were there and we didn't go to see them.

Instead, Thomas ran and played with his cousins. They laughed, threw stuff, read books. I laughed, but I didn't throw stuff.

I watched them, my "girls" and my "little man". Good times.

For the next few postings, we will be heading back to the Cow Chipping Country to visit my brother. Please leave a comment, simply because I like to hear your thoughts. 

What Grows in a Field

Lily and Clara trying to restrain Benjamin, unsuccessfully. He took off in a 2 yr. old run. I barely caught him.

Benjamin was unrepentant, in a cute way.

In 2014 our family joined together in Switzerland to spend time with Mary and Richard McKinley and our grandson Benjamin. It was a fabulous time, just can't tell you how great it was.

John and I stayed at an AirBnB in Kӧnig, a rural area near Berne. We booked it after Mary researched it. What she did not realize at the time that this lovely place had two fairly steep gravel roads leading to the apartment, which was on the second floor.  What she did not take into account was that we were her parents in their 60s.

This farmer owned about 4 John Deere implements, all pristine. 

These gravel roads led to a farm; not just a farm but it was paradise, at least to me. We always stopped at the barn and house where an arch of old barn connected to new barn. We rested for about five minutes because we were knackered before striking out on the next hill.


A farm was complete with cows, apple trees, a garden, and wheat fields. Each day as we walked by the farm, the wheat fields were ripening. What caught me was the red among the green.

So amazing, this lone poppy was a bravely growing flower.  

This is on my sidebar.

Within the second week, we trudged up the first hill and saw that the wheat had been harvested, taking the poppy with it.

It will return next year in another place. Poppies are resilient.