Tuesday, September 29, 2015

then came Tuesday

Oh, it rained during the night! Big torrents of gusty rain, pounding on the farmhouse with all its might, making me, for the hundredth, no millionth time grateful for that solid roof over our heads.

And in the morning, the rain continued. Moderately, yes, that, but it wasn't outdoor weather -- not for us, not for the cheepers.

farmette life-4.jpg

Breakfast is early and at the kitchen table.

farmette life-3.jpg

I am in a hurry and I quickly review the catch up grocery list. I need stop at the store midweek. Either we are eating more fruit, or I bought too few items last Friday. Ed is convinced that we ought to try a local grocery store's delivery service.
Here, it's so easy! He brings his computer to the table and rattles off various fruits we could purchase online.
But I need to inspect each item individually...
We order it for the employees at Tormach -- it's all great stuff.
Not possible. Or, if it is all "great," then it's engineered to be that way.
Try it!
I think about my day: busy. Okay, just this once.

Off now to spend Tuesday with Snowdrop.

She wakes up, she bathes, she waits as I get her breakfast ready.

farmette life-6.jpg

As usual, this is her most chipper time -- rested and now fed, ready to take on the world.

farmette life-12.jpg

But she is ambitious and very quickly she pushes herself to stand and take her baby steps behind mr. lion.

farmette life-33.jpg

And then she pauses. She seems to want to examine her dress and in so doing, she finds herself standing alone.

farmette life-34.jpg

Of course, sometimes, her bravery gets her down on the floor. Learning can be a tough game, little one!

farmette life-35.jpg

After letting her take a few more concentrated wee steps behind mr. lion, I take her downstairs for more quiet play. She needs a break. She finds it in examining the claws of ms. sloth.

farmette life-38.jpg

And the day passes in this way. She is at an age when her moods, frustrations, joys are more predictable. Even though in many ways, every single hour reveals something new about this girl. And of course, one can only guess what goes on in that little (well, not so little) head.

Evening at the farmhouse. I make my ol' reliable pizza, with more garlic than I care to admit publicly. Ed beams. We settle into our evening on the couch. We exhale.