|My swing at the edge of the yard.|
Bean sat on my lap on the swing that hangs from a branch of the large maple at the edge of my yard. "Memere and Beanie are swinging," I sang as she leaned back and watched the leaves overhead. She smiled at me, at the tree, at the the bits of blue sky she could see through the canopy.
We went to visit the Moo, the Baaa, and the Ooo-oo-ooo-oo-ooooooo before lunch. "Hi," called Bean to the chickens. "Moo!" she said to the cows. She handed some grass through the fence to the sheep. Then we came home hand in hand to tell Mama all about it, but first we stopped to pick a dandelion and sniff at a wild phlox blossom.
The bride-to-be tried on the muslin prototype for her wedding dress. A tuck here, a dart there and we were both pleased. Next week the cream colored satin will be cut and stitched, green organdy will trim the sleeves and be fashioned into a sash. She will be a beautiful bride!
I kissed Daughter and Bean goodbye. Bean waved disconsolately from her car seat. I stood at the end of the drive and watched the car disappear around the curve. I will see them in two weeks' time. Still, I wept.