My neighbor has lilacs.
My neighbor is elderly and has a huge yard and is the nicest lady on the planet and her lilacs are in a far corner of her yard, backing up to our fence. It is a place she absolutely never ever sees. I tried to steal some.
Now I have poison ivy. (Shhh, and some lilacs.)
What is it about lilacs? They're like the benchmark of the season. That syrupy sweet fresh-picked lilac smell means THIS IS SPRING, hurry up, enjoy it, don't blink or it will be 90 degrees and too hot to leave the windows open.
We may not have lilac bushes of our own, but we have weeds. Oh, do we ever have weeds. Pretty weeds.
I kind of love them.
See that dainty foot?
When Alice was just a few minutes old they put her on the scale to weigh her and I couldn't believe the way she pointed her fresh brand-new little toes as she looked around. She was practically posing. I felt, instantly, like the mom to a girl. And I knew it would be just like this.
(Please don't ask me why my daughter is not wearing pants or shoes and is instead sporting a Florida t-shirt as her entire outfit. I don't have a good answer.)
Please head over to Beth's place at I Should Be Folding Laundry for photos of her FRESH new precious BABY BOY, and the many other lovely linky photos.