It is almost summer here, it happened so abruptly. I did not get much time at all to enjoy the cold mud of March before we were tearing through April, and now all the leaves are out. I wore shorts today. Tonight there may be thunder. I can feel the atmosphere pressing down on my nose, (broke long ago and now good for weather predication.) Hazel has spent much of the day cowering near the door to the bathroom, just in case.
Husband and daughter are coming down to the end with school. Final papers, final exams. So far so good. Both of them are anxious though. Once thing it seems to mean is that even when they are eating or sleeping they feel they should be immersed in study. But nobody can go full speed every minute. Every weekend Mike says the same thing. He looks up, quite suddenly and says 'I am tired. I don't know why. I have to have a nap.' So we go off and nap. (I climb in with him, I am usually up for a nap if there is one to be had.) He may not know why he is tired. I know though. His workdday including school runs from 6 am when he leaves the house, to 10 pm when he gets home. And he is not 17 or even 30. He is 50.
The summer will be easier. He will not have school. I hope we will be able to go swimming as often as last year. Last year we went nearly every day.
Thinking about the potatoes again. Do any of you know why they are called 'fondant?' I was wondering. They have nothing to do with fondant frostting apparently. (Mike hates fondant frosting for some reason. If I make a cake that he suspects of having it he asks if I have made 'fucking fondant again.' So I do not make it often. Anyway, more for me.)