Beautiful things we see outside our windows every once in a while. . .
Last weeks obsession: Portuguese Custard Tarts
Conversations of a mom and her boy:
Soren: Little sweet girl's up.
Mom: How do you know she's up?
Soren: Because I'm a great learner?
Mom: Did you go back in my room (where she is sleeping)?
Soren: yes, I had to wash my hands.
He went through the master bedroom where dahlia is sleeping to the master bathroom instead of using his own bathroom. . . but he sure is cute. I really don't know if he really woke her up or if she woke up on her own . . . and I love my little dude.
They have story time at his nursery where they not only tell the wee ones stories but the wee ones can tell their own stories as well. Soren apparently loves this part of the day (according to one of his teachers, he thrives). She told Jason when he was picking Soren up about his story. He told the class that he went to the Ayrshire Farm Park (majorly fun park by the way) and saw camels and monkeys and ate french fries and drank hot chocolate and then came home and threw up in the bathtub. All of this is true. Great story, eh?
I'm dreaming of everything Anthropologie.com today. . .I mean EVERYTHING. . .shabby-chic, bright accents, little birds! I want skirts and hats and drapes with ruffles and no ruffles . . . and I'm still dreaming of Hawaii.
Dahlia is my angel.
Today we went out to the lovely green fields behind our flat and got to breath the cool brisk air. Dahlia likes to sit up while in her buggy which is rather hard for her because it is a laying down buggy (refer to photos below and you can see her sitting up). She's got a tough tummy and doesn't want to miss a thing lying down, thank you.
My trusty clogs that I shall never part with. I'm going to have them resoled sometime soon:
Last weeks snowman. He's gone. Only a carrot is left on the grass.
La foto di growling:
The work of my new little photographer Sorentino (aka soren):
And finally, my favorite pumpkin and strawberry heads together.