Is that really a field of daffodils?

Yes, it sure is.

And it was pure bliss.

The fragrance rushed up and hugged us hello as we stepped out of the car. There they were, lined up in particular rows, just waiting to be adored.



And adore we did. The boys and I, as well as my friend Anna and her cherubs, smelled our way up and down the beautiful rows.





When I was a uni student I lived in Richmond for awhile, and every Saturday I would walk down to the market near the park and buy myself a bunch of flowers. The little old Ukrainian man who owned the stall spoke little English when I started buying flowers from him. It was a lot of pointing and nodding and smiling going on between us. Over time his English skills got better and better. He started to add little snippets to our exchange such as 'no worries' when I thanked him for my enormous bunch of irises. Then one day I was there and he actually said to me 'nice hat' and pointed to the felted cap I was wearing. I loved my flowers, but I think I loved the Ukrainian flower seller just as much.

Can you spot little Ebba hiding?





The flowers brought pure joy to the kids. They absolutely loved it. It was wonderful to see them smile and play and giggle. Fall down and get back up again. Point and laugh and laugh some more.




My most favourite photo from the day.



Off now to buy myself some flowers for my house. Bring some spring to my dreary winter decor.

* Meaghan