Tuesday, February 17, 2015


Yes! It's Tuesday -- "Snowdrop comes to the farmhouse" day! (Isie boy remains in the sheep shed, sleeping on the scattered clothing there that is so characteristic of the place. Machine parts, bits and pieces of things, piles of papers that surely show the color of time and spilled beverages -- all so perfect for the man who dislikes taking the time to create order just for order's sake.)

First, though, there is the routine. I volunteer to open the coop.


It's a bristling day and the cheepers aren't happy about the chill that greets them when they step outside.


I want to say -- you haven't seen the worst yet, my dears! We have one horrible Arctic blast coming up tomorrow! After that -- we're sliding toward spring, I know it! Just hang in there!


At the farmhouse, spring is easier to imagine. Daffodils are now in every grocery store -- they're shockingly inexpensive and strikingly beautiful. Especially as viewed against Ed's blue shirt.


While the sun stays out, our brave Butter ventures forward...


...but then retreats. She reminds me of the hopeful child who so much wants the outdoors to be the friendly welcoming place it once was! And it will be! So soon, it will be!

The young people stop by to drop off Snowdrop. My daughter's friend has one final minute with her...


She tenderly gives him a last wave and then retreats to her morning sleepy state, gathering energy for an afternoon of play with grandma.

Awake? Wonderful! It's tummy time!


If you were to ask me -- is Snowdrop a happy baby? Well, if her expression is any indication...


I'd say yes! She does put on a serious face occasionally, studying whatever is before her...


But before too long, if I smile at her, her eyes will twinkle, her mouth will widen and she show'll off her most radiant, spirited soul!


All that play calls for another rest. Little Snowdrop always looks so terribly small when Ed holds her in his big hands!


Play, dance, rest, eat -- the afternoon flies. The visit ends. Outside, clouds come and go. Occasionally, one cloud will gently throw down a sprinkling of snow -- not unlike the powdered sugar you might sprinklr over a cake through a sieve. It really is a pretty world in this small corner of the Midwest and that's reason enough to smile. And smile some more.