Liam is up in the rhododendron tree every chance he gets these days. Just like always. I'm glad that Will and I worked out some tree climbing rules early and I've managed to stick with them. When we first got this house that tree was all over and on top of the front porch. I think Will spent three weeks every day working on it, carefully, carefully pruning out old wood, watching the shape emerge, bringing it back.
It is at least 70 years old, that tree. In the earliest photo of our 110 year old house that I've tracked down so far, it is a little shrub by the porch. You see these same rhododendron trees a few places in the neighborhood, and in the city park at the top of the hill. It's neat to think of them all being planted about the same time 70 odd years ago.
Liam likes to pull off the little sucker branches and toss them to the ground (He was very excited to learn this used to be his father's job, and he takes performing it very seriously.) He also is building little nests, in hopes birds will move in. Thursday night I climbed up the tree to take a picture of one of the nests and he could not believe that a mommy could climb a tree. Funny.
In a month or two it will bloom and be full, full of light purple flowers and buzzing bees.
Besides Easter, we're determined to get some more peas in the ground this weekend. And I need to finish some sewing that must be wrapped up by Monday, and hopefully visit the farmers market, just opened for the season.
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