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Last night we had dinner at the Kaimal-Lawsons, our first indoor social visit in over a year. The girls celebrated having completed the SATs, which were administered in the Rhinebeck High School gym. Today we celebrate Mother’s Day in traditional style, with breakfast in bed followed by driving Sarah hither and yon to various horse-related events. Happy Mother’s Day to all who observe.

They are very hard to evict at this point.

It took us about ten years to find our first morels and about ten minutes to gather this large bowl. It seems to be a good year for them. To the right is today’s haul from Jen’s proliferating asparagus beds. All will be sautéed in butter and tossed with fettuccini — a perfect spring supper.

This was my mother’s car, which my father drove here from Arizona after she died. Its quick, light steering made it fun to drive. I hope someone will take better care of it than I did.

Everything is bright green at the farm right now. If you can zoom in, you will see our corkscrew willows at either end of the picture, an unwanted Canada goose at left, our tiny flowering cherry behind the pond, and the shimmering bog beyond.

We are sad to return to New York today after three weeks at the farm. Springtime is all around, well represented by this young cherry tree blooming by the pond.

Daffodils are blooming everywhere, and so is our star magnolia (which we refer to as the cameo magnolia because it is very small).

Today we recalled the backyard egg hunts with Sarah and her pals. You’re never too old for an Easter basket.

It was frosty yesterday morning but by afternoon it had warmed up enough for Sarah and Daisy to enjoy the sun in the backyard.

Still, signs of spring abound, including this unusual assortment of ducks (two Mallard males and a female; one Ring-necked Duck).

The snowdrops were up, as were a few crocuses.

The Canada Geese are returning.

And Jen gave Sarah a spring haircut.

Although we cannot attend country auctions during a pandemic, we can watch them online, and thereby learn that the one thing missing from our lives has been a Victorian silver string holder, made in London in 1889 by one Stuart Clifford. At least until the next auction, we want for nothing — a ball of string was included.