ten years

It is delectably warm today. The unexpected break from the inevitable coming of winter. Honestly, we almost eat breakfast on the porch.

But we don't. If you look up at our beloved farmhouse, you'll nod your head and say -- yes, it very much looks like an autumnal day.






So we eat at the kitchen table and I would have liked to linger with these guys, but I have a date with Snowdrop.





So much do I hurry to be with the little girl that I forget it's Tuesday (no street parking) and get a ticket -- a reminder that slowing down has numerous benefits (one is that you pay attention to the details in life).

Snowdrop is up early and she is full of energy. After her bath, I let her run around a bit and of course she chooses to get herself under the table, between chairs, wedged between one piece and the next. Like a true con artist, she then manages to find her way out -- so far with not too many knocks on the head.






We play -- upstairs, downstairs. Musical instruments (there's a triangle she is hitting)...






... dancing, building, counting, knocking down, emptying, banging -- oh, the usual Snowdrop full-speed-ahead stuff. With moments of quiet calm thrown into the mix.






Snowdrop is a very affectionate little girl and I cannot resist a selfie of one of her famous open mouth kisses...






...yes, this girl is growing up very quickly.

We have a quiet moment, too, in Snowdrop's yard. It's so warm! The lavender her mom and I planted on the day my daughter found out she was pregnant is blooming beautifully and I swear, Snowdrop is full of admiration for the delicacy of this fragrant stalk.





An unusual October 20th!

Or is it? I happen to remember well a great many of October 20ths and sometimes they're warm and sometimes cool and I especially remember one that took place ten years ago: it was a Thursday and after I finished my lecture, I met Ed and went with him to an orchard to watch the farmers crush apples for cider.

Ed and I have been together since that day ten years ago, which is at once remarkable and very ordinary: two people, unexpectedly drawn to each other, finding that there is much to love in a morning, or a day, or a lifetime at the farmhouse.




Still blooming, in celebration of October 20, 2015


(It's also his birthday, but I hadn't known that ten years ago when we watched apples being made into juice.)

A dinner and a movie with our house guests. A wonderful evening.