are you glad it's Friday?

Early morning, pretty landscape. That's almost a given here, at the farmette.






Sunshine in the cooler season puts us in the sun room for breakfast -- another habitual act.






And here's another commonplace occurrence: when I shop for groceries (always on Fridays), the clerk will ask me (as he did today) -- so, are you having a good end of the week?
Today, upon hearing this, I was too nit-picky in my answer. I wanted to side step the question so I said -- is that like a "how are you," where you're just supposed to say "fine thank you" and provide no detail?

In fact, I wasn't sure if I was having a grand old end of the week. My morning, breakfast notwithstanding, had gotten off to a rocky start (coordinating stuff with Ed was tricky) and I have, in my non-Snowdrop hours, too many things to think through and no clarity of thought going into the weekend. But the clerk was just being polite and I should have said "yes, thank you" because of course, in the scheme of things, my petty issues are just that -- petty and my days are otherwise sublime.

Therefore, when at the next store (Trader Joe's) I was asked by that clerk -- do you have any plans for the rest of the day? -- I took an honest but more positive approach:
I'm baby sitting my granddaughter, I admitted with a smile.
Well that's nice of you -- he answered.
I love my granddaughter, I said.
Lucky you, said another customer.
And I emphatically agreed, even though I wasn't sure which part she regarded as lucky.


Snowdrop is delighted to see me, possibly because I bring over one of her favorites -- a little bunny rabbit with a blue head (she had left it at the farmhouse), or maybe because she is just a "delighted in the world" kind of baby.






But wait a minute -- am I using the right words here? Is she still a baby? Here she is, playing with her rhythm stick:






Ed had asked -- at what age do they become a toddler? I mindlessly answered -- oh, around one.

But Snowdrop is just a few days short of being nine months old. Is she really not a toddler yet?






Even when she deliberately rolls around on the floor, looking at me and chortling away at the silliness of it all, I no longer see her as an infant.






In the afternoon, Snowdrop has that what now, grandma look.






I can't disappoint her. We go outside to smell the autumn air.

There is a strong, gusty wind on this sunny October day, the kind that gives a rosy glow to cheeks and noses.When she protests a jacket, I tell her that in Poland, she would not get away with being outside at her age without a cap.






We walk and sign songs and I think -- actually, I do feel it's Friday and I'm glad it's this day, in the same way that I am glad when it's another day. There are always so many surprises in each one!