She is developing an insatiably curious, Winnie-does-it toddler nature. Our front yard Viburnum is blooming, and she let me slip on a bishop’s dress from Grammy before going out for a closer look. I bent a fragrant stem downward for her, and she pointed her nose directly inside. Her nose wrinkled, she stepped back, and delightedly sniffed all flowers within reach. Wild one capped off our post-Easter rain playtime with a tasting of mud pies. I was raised by a mother I called “Dirtwoman,” as most days she could be found outside, in the garden. I just may be raising another.

With more than a few projects pegged for completion this long weekend, Monday began slowly with The New York Times. Winnie was in no hurry.

The Easter Bunny brought two felt balls, a wooden book, and, Winnie’s favorite, a spinning top. Our morning was spent watching the colors turn round and round. We transitioned to alphabet tutelage after opening a box of goodies from Seesaw and Papa.

Hunt Club Farm hosts an annual Egg Hunt. Admission gets you livestock pens, the Easter Bunny, and numerous gaudy, kiddy delights: a rainbow of shiny, plastic eggs and paper grass under oversized floral arbors. With little sleep, we braved the pollen, and took our sneezy, itchy eyed toddler to her first hunt.

Our first Easter weekend at home began with hot cross buns and dyed eggs. The cross and spices remind us of Christ’s crucifixion and burial, while the eggs represent new life in Him.

A week shy of the third trimester, I was ordered to fast 8 hours yesterday in preparation for late afternoon blood work. Meanwhile, I baked. While it did nothing to assuage hunger, it saved yet another trip to the bakery, and freed up what was left of our post-appointment Thursday. With time to spare before sunset, we rode bikes down to the sea.

Rustic Italian Bread. Crusty on the outside. Chewy on the inside. I paired ours with a vegetable laden marinara.

A retreat took us to the gilded hotel that has hosted every US President since Coolidge. DC was a bit drizzly and cold this weekend, but we managed to give Winnie her first glimpse of the White House, and prevented a plunge in the Tidal Basin. The famous trees were mostly budding, but a few branches boasted the beginnings of the lovely pink tufts.

There is a certain joy in celebrating a daughter’s femininity in dresses and bows. What truly makes my heart glad, however, is the impish antics and accompanying grins our untamed girl displays in her finery. Our friends, Joanna, Tucker, and Emmy joined us in the shade last week. Both girls are sporting Free Babes Handmade bows. I’ll be offering a little contest for freebies next month.

Sans buzzing and biting. We have precious few evenings left to gaze at the setting sun without company.

On this sunny afternoon, Winnie and I wandered over to the historic airfield to see firsthand what roars above us day in and day out.