weekend guests

It is another beautiful day here, in south central Wisconsin. The holiday is behind us. We face the next challenges with vim and vigor. Well, at least with vim.

First thing's first. Before we even sit down to breakfast, we go out to feed the kitties.





What kitties? Were there kitties?

Today, they are gone. Nowhere to be seen. We call, coax, put out food. Silence. No meows, no little faces peering at us, nothing.

We leave the food out, partly covered, but very available to them and retreat.

Over our own breakfast, we talk abut what could have happened.





If we never see them again, we'll never know where they went and what brought them here for that beautiful four day Thanksgiving weekend visit. Did the mother hustle them on to the next destination? Did something scare them? They were just getting used to us bringing them food! Where are they now?

Perhaps to distract ourselves from a day long stare toward the barn, we return to the topic of the couch.

Someone suggested that if I want a couch, I should just get the darn thing and ignore Ed's groans about the project. True. But it's much more fun when we're both on board, working together toward a common goal. Too, it then becomes a joint financial investment. But here's the real truth of the matter: Ed has migrated to doing nearly all of his work from that couch. He rarely retreats to the sheep shed -- something that is pleasant for me and for Snowdrop too. He works, reads, eats, and yes, oftentimes sleeps on that couch. Me, I hate the clunker, but Ed is comfortable with it. The replacement should make him equally comfortable.

In any case, Ed is now on board with getting a replacement. But which one?

We are down to two alternatives: a new one and one straight off of Craigslist. [When I passed on to Ed the comment about buying used and the possibility of introducing bedbugs, he was blunt in adding -- fleas, too.] There are benefits and downsides to each. Price, of course, but not only. The used one looks to be in exceptional condition. It's a mid century import. It would be fine. The new one -- well, I'm terribly annoyed at Pottery Barn, the sellers behind it, for misleading claims about discounts and delivery, so that I'm not keen on throwing money their way.

We agree that we should at least look at the Craigslist couch. But we're both leaning toward a new one.

We drive over. Not a long drive -- some 15 minutes from where we live. It's an interesting property, furnished all mid century modern. The woman who is selling it has lived there all her life. She has raised five kids in that house. Her dad farms the land just to the south. And she bought these two couches from our premier Scandinavian furniture retailer and she just doesn't like her original design. Sold one, wants to sell the other too. Less than a year old. Mint condition. You can tell.

And slowly, I come around to it. Oh, perhaps the new couch may have been swankier, but we're not swanky types. We liked the couch, we like the seller, we give her a deposit and tell her we'll pick it up as soon as we get rid of our clunker.


And then I rush, really rush to pick up Snowdrop, who is napless, but as happy as can be!

(The girl is really into climbing...)






(The sun sinks into the golden tones of a late afternoon...)






(She climbs some more...)





It's always hard to pull her away from outdoor play, but I've got a good one up my sleeve: someone needs to finish decorating the little farmhouse Christmas tree!

Even before I tell her what needs to be done, she is on it!






Is there a child who isn't enraptured by this sparkly, twinkly holiday tradition?






Is there a  grandma whose heart isn't completely melted by watching her grandchild's joy?





It's late now. Snowdrop leaves, Ed and I puff up the couch cushions, take some pics and put our clunker up for sale. Snowdrop will love the new mid century modern, I'm sure of it. She is a girl of great taste.