Spring at last

Since when did Turkey in the Straw become the official ice cream truck theme song? Whatever happened to The Entertainer or this other tune that I cannot seem to source online but I will always associate with ice cream on wheels. Anyone? I wonder if tunes vary by region. What a horrible job. It’s bad enough I’d have to constantly dip my hands into a freezer, but if I had to listen to that music for hours on end, I’m sure I’d end up running over a small child or two.

When Gabriella and I were in London, we spent a weekend visiting friends in Switzerland, as you do. There’s a connection, I promise. We wanted to “climb every mountain” to get the full Swiss experience, so our friends dropped us off at the foot of a hill and told us to meet us at the top at one of their favourite restaurants for lunch. We were climbing higher and higher into the grassy hills, and the sound of bells got louder and louder. We looked around everywhere, but all we could see was hillside, and yet the bells were sounding all around us. “Do they pipe these bells in for the tourists? It’s so LOUD!” “WHAT?!?” “Exactly!”

So as we hit the last few yards of incline, the path lead us around the hill where all became clear. There were cows peppered all over the side of the hill-grazing with enormous cow bells around their necks. Every time a cow bent over to take a bite, those bells would clang. And because each chime bounced off of every hill, it was true surround-sound at full volume. It honestly sounded as if bells were piped into the hills it was so loud. I was amazed that these cows were so plump because if those bells were sounding off in my ear every time I took a bite, I’d be udderly emaciated...sorry. Now I've got Climb Every Mountain stuck in my head!



Today was first day of the year of door-to-door ice cream delivery. Somehow, our little, dead-end road made the ice cream route. Sadly, the boys missed it. Levi was napping, and Gabriella had taken Asher to the garden center to buy seeds for the vegetable garden we’re supposedly planting. Not to sound negative, but we’ve imagined this garden in summers past, and we’ve yet to sow the seeds-literally.

Garden or not, I was grateful for a bit of quiet time. We had a late night last night with friends who plied us with drink and forced us to eat bowl after bowl of hot pot interrupted only by numerous rounds of Briscola until we finally rolled home at an ungodly hour.

It was a beautiful spring day, and the boys loved being outside. I'm hoping for more of the same.