"Blogging" sounds like a rude and private ritual, but I supposed it's got some meaning I've missed. So here I am, blogging, when all I ever wanted to learn to do was clogging. It's not the same and not very good exercise.
A sunny, 70, blue-sky, lily-white-way day like this one feels wasted unless I've accomplished something. Today's something was a woods wander with the girls. My sense of accomplishment was heightened when I was able to hold a tiny spring peeper in the palm of my hand, followed by picking up a "disgusting" object the girls were frightened of in the swamp. My pride swelled to joyous proportions when one of the girls said, "You'll touch anything!" in a tone of both disgust and admiration.
We engaged in some pre-earth day activities by collecting polystyrene packing peanuts that someone had carelessly allowed to blow into the wetland, providing possible turtle chokers. We waded out in rain boots, (I in my bare feet!) into the black, swamp muck and collected the offensive articles. Madeline made a text to self connection when she recalled a book she has been reading about a girl who solves animal mistreatment problems. She suggested we make a sign like the book character did, reminding people not to dump their trash in or near the water.
A hawk, a spring peeper, 2 nesting swans, and my doggy's sweet smile. These are the accomplishments of my day.