Tuesday, February 02, 2016

Tuesday storms

When you retire and you live in the country, your attitude about winter storms changes considerably. A big snow is an adventure. So long as the furnace keeps churning out heat and the lights don't flicker, you throw an extra blanket down on the couch (for show as much as anything), cook up a pot of soup and watch the snowflakes fall.

Unless you're the babysitter for your granddaughter. Back comes the worry: will the roads be clear when I set out? When the young parents set out? Will I get home if they don't plow the rural road we live on right away?

And still, there is a slow motion to it. You are in control of your own time, after all. You can pace yourself. The element of wonder is not diminished.

And so when I wake up to see that the snow, predicted and yet unpredictable (no one can agree if there will be an inch or a foot of the new stuff by day's end), hadn't yet started, I feel just a touch of disappointment.

Never mind. I move the day forward. Breakfast. Just a touch hurried, because I luxuriate in the perfection of the morning too long (the orderly farmhouse, the warm shower, the coffee aromas -- these can't be rushed, until it's so late that they do have to be rushed). Look cheerful! I haven't time for anything else!


farmette life-3.jpg



And then to Snowdrop's home.

Were I to pull out just a few favorite episodes from my time with her, surely I would have to say that this was the morning for peeking out...


farmette life-6.jpg



... and hiding. Only to be found.


farmette life-7-2.jpg



... which makes her laugh and laugh.


farmette life-6-2.jpg



I'd also include what I would call the more thoughtful, contemplative moments.


farmette life-1-3.jpg



... oftentimes with her stack of books.


farmette life-3-3.jpg



In the late afternoon, I wondered if I would be struggling to get home, what with the snow and the winds, but what snow came down, fizzled to something drearily reminiscent of slush. They say we'll get more of the white stuff tonight, but I'm no longer holding my breath. The storm came and went and at least in Madison, left very little in its wake.

I'll leave you with a photo that ought to sport the title: "if I gave you one of these, would you be my friend?"


farmette life-2-4.jpg



It's so cool to see that some will never give up trying to be nice.