Today, on the screened porch, waiting for a storm to come, and then to pass, with blankets over bathing suits, the girls and I read the first half of Kenneth Grahame's The Wind in the Willows. I'm just about to shift from working-dave to holidave, and this book put me in the spirit of summer in Ontario. I've tried reading this to them in the past, and it has never worked; they have never been ready before today. But today, the time was right, and we read the afternoon away. I especially loved the descriptions of Mr. Badger, his unexpected hospitality, his abundant "winter stores," and his never-ending tunnels below the surface of the Wild Wood. Watching the young hedgehogs slice and fry ham for a visiting Otter and Ratty cook bacon, I simply can't wait to start cooking again, now that strawberrires are about to begin, and with them, the season of abundant and local food a winter starved chef so enjoys. I feel almost like the Mole on his first voyage in a boat, holding his hands in front of him and being unable to say anything other than "oh my, oh my" as the water takes him further into a dream. It's almost summer. I'm so very tired, and can't wait to cook, and laugh, and read, and whatever else my wonderful girls will have me do.