I stepped out this morning to pick the daffodils that have bloomed in the flower beds.
It has been overcast, and heavy rain is predicted for tomorrow.
I decided the "little yellow flowers", as our grandson Xavier calls them, needed a timely rescue.
I recalled the phrase "a blustery day", as I stooped to cut the blooms, the wind blowing and swirling my hair.
How many times did I watch Winnie-the-Pooh with my children when they were little, having his terms solidified in my memory, I cannot recall, but they are precious memories.
As a young mother, I was rarely able to slow down to a pace that afforded time to document everyday moments.
Becoming a grandmother has given me a chance to relish and recollect the seemingly unimportant things..the first somersault on a spring-like day, the sound of a bird singing early in the morning, the way a fuzzy caterpillar feels between your fingers..moments that become treasures as they are brought to the forefront of my mind with the help of these new little people we call grandchildren.
The vibrant color of the teacup-shaped flowers brought a bit of Spring into Grammy's House,
and I am most certain they will be noticed by one 4 year old little fellow when he comes for a visit.