We reach a high of 3F and the winds remain strong. The country roads are so slick that this morning, at the last second I opt not to take a curve in the road. I go straight to avoid spinning out of control. Ufff!
And still, it is a brilliant day! The sun comes up to a clear blue sky...
... and the fresh snow adds the gentleness that was so missing in our farmette landscape.
We eat breakfast in the front room. [To the commenter who asked -- why is Ed so happy, well it's simple really: he's happy because I'm especially happy. The excitement is contagious, even if the whole baby project is something that he can not fully grasp.]
Looking outside, I note how the snow had piled up rather high on the porch glass roof. Last year, after we put the glass panels in, we kept them immaculately clean -- brushing off every leaf and snowflake so that we would be able to take in all the light they suddenly offered. This year? We shrug and say -- looks good anyway, why bother.
But today I do bother. Maybe it's that we're about to have weekend guests again. Or maybe I worried that too much snow would crack the glass (Ed laughed at that one). Or maybe it's just that being around a very young life is so energizing that you find yourself doing things like shoveling heavy snow off a rooftop and not thinking twice about it. Here's my view from the top:
Otherwise, it is a blur of a day. The aunt and uncle from Minneapolis (my youngest one and her husband) drove half the night to get here in good stead and so my grandma time was limited to a very early morning hour...
After, little Snowdrop was delivered to her aunt's arms -- even before the young couple had time to shed their coats and scarves.
It was a beautiful meeting of two youngest ones! Sitting back, watching, listening to the chatter, I felt about as lucky as one could possibly feel in life.
Errands, more errands, even more errands. And finally, back at the farmette, I tried to take great care with the cheepers, who ventured out into the barn against all odds, then huddled in the thin strip of sunlight.
And then we spent an evening with Snowdrop and the parents, aunt, uncle. Ed came as well. Here are some of the men in Snowdrop's life:
uncle
dad
Ed
We ate Laotian take-out and there was always a pair of hands to hold little Snowdrop.
As we were leaving, Ed made sure that the baby scale was put to good use.
For some reason, Goldie the cat did not protest.
The last of the cold nights tonight. I can't say that I noticed.
And still, it is a brilliant day! The sun comes up to a clear blue sky...
... and the fresh snow adds the gentleness that was so missing in our farmette landscape.
We eat breakfast in the front room. [To the commenter who asked -- why is Ed so happy, well it's simple really: he's happy because I'm especially happy. The excitement is contagious, even if the whole baby project is something that he can not fully grasp.]
Looking outside, I note how the snow had piled up rather high on the porch glass roof. Last year, after we put the glass panels in, we kept them immaculately clean -- brushing off every leaf and snowflake so that we would be able to take in all the light they suddenly offered. This year? We shrug and say -- looks good anyway, why bother.
But today I do bother. Maybe it's that we're about to have weekend guests again. Or maybe I worried that too much snow would crack the glass (Ed laughed at that one). Or maybe it's just that being around a very young life is so energizing that you find yourself doing things like shoveling heavy snow off a rooftop and not thinking twice about it. Here's my view from the top:
Otherwise, it is a blur of a day. The aunt and uncle from Minneapolis (my youngest one and her husband) drove half the night to get here in good stead and so my grandma time was limited to a very early morning hour...
After, little Snowdrop was delivered to her aunt's arms -- even before the young couple had time to shed their coats and scarves.
It was a beautiful meeting of two youngest ones! Sitting back, watching, listening to the chatter, I felt about as lucky as one could possibly feel in life.
Errands, more errands, even more errands. And finally, back at the farmette, I tried to take great care with the cheepers, who ventured out into the barn against all odds, then huddled in the thin strip of sunlight.
And then we spent an evening with Snowdrop and the parents, aunt, uncle. Ed came as well. Here are some of the men in Snowdrop's life:
uncle
dad
Ed
We ate Laotian take-out and there was always a pair of hands to hold little Snowdrop.
As we were leaving, Ed made sure that the baby scale was put to good use.
For some reason, Goldie the cat did not protest.
The last of the cold nights tonight. I can't say that I noticed.
