You know when you don't have your favorite sleeping pillow (or maybe for you it's the fan isn't on or the blanket isn't just right) and you just can't get to sleep? Willa's sleep comfort must be knowing that her dad's in the house. He got home and she slept. It was still later than her normal bed time, but there were no howls of "Nooooo diaaaaaaper." No throwing up, no tears, not even a lot of playing after being kissed goodnight.
It feels good. Getting a bed all to yourself is no special treat if you aren't actually relaxing or sleeping.
We went to Grand Rapids' farmers market on Saturday morning. I had a great conversation with one of the producers:
"So, what's the difference between the 'homegrown rhubarb' and the 'fancy rhubarb'?"
"I made this sign, my wife made the other one," he said with the most serious face.
I bought the fancy rhubarb to honor the farmers wife's marketing genius. It is now all cut up and in bread and pie. Kerri shared a rhubarb walnut bread recipe from her mom and I had to try it out. Next time I should remember to actually put in the baking soda. This time we have very dense, but tasty bread. Keri (these are 2 different people, not a spelling error) posted on her blog when she made pie with her own crust. That inspired me. So, strawberry rhubarb pie with buttermilk crust. This was Jim's first experience with rhubarb - maybe. He's not sure if the weed the neighborhood kids chewed on growing up was actually rhubarb or not. Anyhow, he loves the pie. Growing up eating my mom's recipe, this one had a lot to live up to, and it didn't disappoint.
Tomorrow is a big day, friends, but because this is already getting long, I will stop here and revisit and repost later this afternoon.