Cherry Blossoms
/Yet again, the boys didn’t have school today. I am so tired of irregular schedules. No one can get used to anything, and even less time than usual is safely my own.
It was frigid today, too. Unseasonably and awfully cold to the bone. We are all so sick of layering and shivering.
But we push on, as does nature, even when the determined growth is ever so slight.
Mid-morning, I decreed that we were going downtown to tourist in our own city. The Cherry Blossom Festival is in swing, and I don’t think the boys have ever been.
It is the time of year in which gloves and hats have gone missing, jeans have holes in the knees, jackets are growing small. It took some effort to clothe ourselves appropriately, but finally, we were bundled up and packed in the car.
It was not a pretty day, but we found a great parking spot in front of the Department of Agriculture and I faked a boatload of enthusiasm about a stroll from Ag around the Tidal Basin to the Jefferson Memorial and back. We made an early stop for hot chocolate and funnel cake and all softened along the way.
In so many ways we are lucky to live here, and it was lovely to spontaneously take advantage of some beautiful, historic spots.
The ceiling in the Jefferson Memorial is so reminiscent of the Pantheon, and I was thrilled that Oliver made that connection. When I read Jefferson’s words about equality and asked the kids why they sounded dissonant, Jack said, “Uh, because slavery was going on then so clearly he didn’t really mean all men were created equal.” I beamed with pride for what is real education but respect for fact, no matter how hard it may be to ingest.
We all like the pink blossoms best. They are fewer and farther between than the white ones but we gave the search our best before returning home to homework and baths and dinner and rest.