What would the week be like without the predictability of Friday?! End of the work week for some, weekly grocery shopping for me. As solid as the rising of the sun and the hoot of an owl. (Did I tell you that owls live just outside our bedroom window? All night long they call to us...)
It was a wet night and the garden looks soggy and saggy. And beautiful.
Everything is that much more vibrant, bold, strong!
We eat breakfast on the porch. It's a stretch at 60F, but it's worth it: our meal is longer, our review of the day ahead more nuanced.
But eventually I hurry off. My Friday clock is set for that weekly grocery store trip.
And after, for an afternoon with Snowdrop.
Ah, yes. The mouth and hand routines still dominate, whether sitting...
Standing...
Or half standing...
She is in a chuckly mood...
And as she looks up at me with her "what's next?" expression...
I ask her --
Do you want to sing?
Sing? Do I know how? The answer to her own (hypothetical) question is "yes!" Snowdrop does the sweetest singalong to Kumbaya! I wont be one of those grandmothers who thinks a video will make Snowdrop cuteness converts out of you, but you may find yourself smiling at least a tiny bit at the few photos of her crooning along.
... with a dance step thrown in at the end.
And finally it's time for a rest and a walk around the lake. Yes, always happy to be in the stroller...
I think about how cool it is to see so much personality in someone so young. Of course, I'd been through this before -- not once, but twice, with two daughters. But Snowdrop isn't my child to raise. I am very much in the audience, with, admittedly, a significant opportunity to join the show here and there. I look at her in different ways than I looked at my daughters. Her future isn't so much before me -- even as her everyday is there to admire and love.
At the farmhouse, Ed and I eat our supper together. We talk about bits and pieces of the day. I tell him the chicken mama left a message that Oreo is two years old today. Two years, four months, half a century, one week, Friday. I stir-fry cauliflower and shrimp for dinner. Friday. Such a lovely day, no?
It was a wet night and the garden looks soggy and saggy. And beautiful.
Everything is that much more vibrant, bold, strong!
We eat breakfast on the porch. It's a stretch at 60F, but it's worth it: our meal is longer, our review of the day ahead more nuanced.
But eventually I hurry off. My Friday clock is set for that weekly grocery store trip.
And after, for an afternoon with Snowdrop.
Ah, yes. The mouth and hand routines still dominate, whether sitting...
Standing...
Or half standing...
She is in a chuckly mood...
And as she looks up at me with her "what's next?" expression...
I ask her --
Do you want to sing?
Sing? Do I know how? The answer to her own (hypothetical) question is "yes!" Snowdrop does the sweetest singalong to Kumbaya! I wont be one of those grandmothers who thinks a video will make Snowdrop cuteness converts out of you, but you may find yourself smiling at least a tiny bit at the few photos of her crooning along.
... with a dance step thrown in at the end.
And finally it's time for a rest and a walk around the lake. Yes, always happy to be in the stroller...
I think about how cool it is to see so much personality in someone so young. Of course, I'd been through this before -- not once, but twice, with two daughters. But Snowdrop isn't my child to raise. I am very much in the audience, with, admittedly, a significant opportunity to join the show here and there. I look at her in different ways than I looked at my daughters. Her future isn't so much before me -- even as her everyday is there to admire and love.
At the farmhouse, Ed and I eat our supper together. We talk about bits and pieces of the day. I tell him the chicken mama left a message that Oreo is two years old today. Two years, four months, half a century, one week, Friday. I stir-fry cauliflower and shrimp for dinner. Friday. Such a lovely day, no?
Oh the crooning is wonderful. Does she show any hints in her gums that teeth are trying to pop up? Are those little fingers poking tooth bumps?
ReplyDeleteI can't get over how full and beautiful your lilacs are. Compared to those around here they're pendulous with large flowers.
ReplyDeleteSnowdrop is her usual happy self. She's such a good-natured little thing. I love all the crooning pics, that Gerber baby mouth held just so.
I WILL be one of those grandmothers and forward to you a video clip :)
ReplyDeleteAnd yes, the old granddad lilacs are the best! Their scent is the strongest too. It reminds me of my grandmothers house and her lovely garden. No lawn at all, just twisty paths among the bursting beds.
Singing along to Kumbaya... how cool! I found myself humming, mouthing, along to see if I could decide which pucture was which sound :^) No decisions except that it was fun. Next decision... which one to save?
ReplyDelete