Friday, January 08, 2016


Looking outside, here's what I have before me: brittle, icy snow that's melting somewhat, but not completely. The ground looks like a holstein cow. It's raining. Not just drizzling -- raining. With a deep freeze hustling in later this weekend, we'll have an ice rink at the farmette. One big ice rink. And of course, there is fog.

Have I made my point?

On the upside, it's warm enough for me to have opened the window in the middle of the night. We listened to the owl who lives just out front in the tall trees that shield the farmhouse. She is a vocal creature and her sounds are soothing in an eerie sort of way. We'd never seen her, but she has been hooting up a storm since I moved here several years ago and I'll always associate that sound with warm nights and raised windows at the farmhouse.

Breakfast is among the colors of fruits and flowers. We are so very lucky to have a steady supply of both! (Right now, three of the orchids are blooming profusely, responding well to this year's long and mellow fall, where they soaked in the outdoor coolness that they need to rebloom for us in the winter months.)

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And then I grocery shop.

I do think it's marketing genius to place flowers at the grocer's just at the entrance, where you come in having basically given up on seeing anything on your drive over that isn't a shade of brown or gray. I usually pick up the cheapest bunch right then and there, telling myself that color on the kitchen table is as important as nutritious food is in your kitchen cupboards.

Back at the farmette, I try to shovel away as much of the snow as I can, because really, I do not want a skating rink here come Sunday, but it's no use. It's just cold enough for it to remain stubbornly iced over. I throw down the shovel and head out to see Snowdrop.

Here she is -- finally managing a close encounter with the cats, something that she wants with all her sweet little heart. True, they're not the real cats -- they're pillows with the family's cat photos on them. No matter. Snowdrop loves them and they do not run away.

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A conversation ensues. Okay, it's one sided. But it's delightful.

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Another interesting moment, this time with a very worthwhile book!

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Today, as yesterday and the day before, there is a lot of traipsing back and forth. Why use your hands when the teeth work equally well?

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Lots of laughter. Especially around penguin.

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Too, there is the issue of the horse. Forgive the gendered statement here, but many will tell you -- girls like horses. Case in point.

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Evening comes. I drive home. The rains continue. The fog is dense. The heart is warm.


  1. Snowdrop seems like a great way to break through the winter doldrums. I love her energy and smile!

    Any idea where your daughter got those cat pillows? That would be a spectacular present for my sister to remember her rapidly aging cats.

    1. It's Etsy. The link:

  2. Love the horse picyutes! I wonder if girls still read Misty of Chincoteague and other Marguerite Henry horse books... staples of my youth. I was never a real horseback rider but every 9 year old girl in my childhood galloped around the school playground whinnying. Will be fun to see if they still do. I'm sure Snowdrop will have, maybe already has, some of the My Little Pony toys!


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