A Charm of Finches

No book review today, I just had to share the joy that spring is bringing to our home. The temperature hit 80 degrees today. March in Wisconsin is an unpredictable thing. Last night we had a tornado warning with 1/4" sized hail and amazing pink lightning. The finches have been coming to the feeders outside of the kitchen window for about a week, and they males are slowly losing their winter dull yellow for the bright gold in their name. We even have a purple finch stopping by. The sky is a beautiful blue with not a cloud in sight, and the birds are singing so loudly, with the windows open, I can hear them throughout the house. The purple finch is the one just poking his head around the left feeder, while three male goldfinches sit on the other feeder. A flock of finches is correctly called a charm, which I find perfectly...charming. :) The ladybugs are infiltrating the house already, but no box elder bugs, so I can't help but be grateful.

I love family and family history. I have been firmly in love with my family's roots since I was a young girl and all of our family vacations were spent in dusty libraries and cemeteries looking for branches of our tree. (Really, I kid you not, my summer vacation essays were almost always about the cemeteries we visited, which may explain quite a bit.) I've come to love Jesse's family just as much. I love living in the house that his grandpa built for his beautiful bride who was just home from the war. I love living on the land that's been in the family for seven generations, counting Mia, and thinking about how many other children have slid down the barnhill, played in the mud, and through leaves in the air. We keep a good supply of blankets on the back of the couch during the winter for cuddling, and with the beautiful weather today, I took them all outside to hang on the clothesline to air out. As I hung them, I noticed my great-great Aunt Alma's hand-stitched quilt, the afghan my Grandma Valley knitted, and the afghan my mom-in-law Cathy crocheted. All the love made with hands hanging on the line, generations spreading a hundred year. I couldn't help myself, I had to take a picture.

And now to shatter the sappy mood:

Mia: Mommy, what do you want your wish to be?

Mommy: Hmmm, I wish that we would all live happily ever after.

Mia: Um, Mommy, hello? This isn't a book!

Enjoy the weather! We certainly are!