So last week I was talking about how busy the last couple of weeks are (with school winding up and packing all of our belonging because we sold our house) and this week the busy-ness is in full swing.

The Big One performed in his school’s spring concert, and in honour of the soiree I was asked to comb his hair back, slick.  Of course I happily obliged.  Next up was the Little One’s beach day.  The weather was the pits!  The group of children only managed to stay at the beach for less than an hour before they were hurried out of the rain and into the school for hot dogs and watermelon.  Thankfully in the afternoon, during the persistent rainstorm, they were corralled into the gym to watch a movie.  This week I was granted permission to play with french braids because, for once, the Little One wanted me to play with her hair.  At soccer this week, the sweetest group of little girls played in the evening’s hazy, golden sunlight.  The next day was the Big One’s beach day.  After the group endured a sudden downpour huddled beneath leafy trees, the weather held out for a while enabling the children to play in the sand a little longer than the grade one children managed.  If you look in the photo, the Big One is not holding an innocent handful of sand, but a long, juicy earthworm.  And he is not simply carrying said worm…if you can read the expression on his face you’ll recognize the look of a devious boy who is chasing a squealing grade three girl with the squirming annelid.  Finally, this week, our storage containers were delivered which meant we began packing our belongings and cleaning our {former} dwelling.

In addition to all of our “run-of’-the-mill” busy-ness (or business) we had a unique highlight.  One evening as we were returning from a family bike ride we noticed our next-door neighbour standing in front of his home, looking at a small patch of grass.  As we got closer we noticed that there was nothing there, but that small patch of grass…or so we thought.  We parked our bikes and walked up to ask what was so fascinating about the grass in that particular location, when we realized…he was not simply looking at grass – but a baby bird that had fallen into his lawn!  After much discussion and “scientific hypothisizing” we decided the baby bird did not fall out of its’ nest (there was not a nest to be seen in the tree or neighbouring trees).  Perhaps a predator bird snatched the baby bird and ended up dropping her into the lawn….regardless of how the featherless babe ended up there, mother robin was nearby, protecting the baby.

Baby remained there, in the same spot, for three days.  Sadly, the morning of the fourth day we found an empty spot where the bird and her “mother” had been.  I don’t know how long it takes for baby birds to grow strong enough to learn to fly, but we all hoped three-and-a-half days was the magic number.