There will be a dab of sunshine and there will be a warm up today. Those good at reading the skies at sunrise would tell you so and they would be right.
Ed and I are up before the rest of our terrific house guests. And we eat an early breakfast, because we are such creatures of this habit -- or at least I am and Ed sweetly goes along.
But the larger breakfast is really a brunch, brought over by one couple to the home of Snowdrop. How many people will have eaten the same foods on this Sunday -- bagels and cream cheese and lox and scrambled eggs? Countless. But how many will have had a little Snowdrop to entertain them?
Ah, that's a rare treat indeed!
My girls' dad is here as well, along with his partner and so we are a larger group and little Snowdrop decides to basically chill this one out. This is just fine with everyone.
(The mom chills as well.)
Then the last precious minutes with little Snowdrop's aunt and uncle...
...and the young couple take off for Minneapolis -- a five hour drive from here, but one which they will repeat later this month.
I duck out for a while after that. There are the cheepers to welcome out into the warmer world (or at least the warmer barn...)
And, too, Ed and I want to test our skis for the first time this year -- nothing big, just a spin around the park up the road...
...but it is not to be. The snow seemed heavy on the roof when I shoveled it off, but it had blown and drifted through the park and so there are bare spots. Too many of them for a decent ski. And so we stroll. To the lake and back again.
In the late afternoon, I return to little Snowdrop's home. You'd have to have a hard heart not to be lulled into the warmth of a scene like this. (The book: Guess How Much I Love You.)
Evening. Little Snowdrop dozes. It's been one heck of a week for her. Still, she is one who is forward looking. She knows which end is up.
Her mom looks in on her. You'll see your aunt and uncle soon! And in the spring, we'll go to the market and we'll stop at Farmer John's cheese stand and...
Ed and I are up before the rest of our terrific house guests. And we eat an early breakfast, because we are such creatures of this habit -- or at least I am and Ed sweetly goes along.
But the larger breakfast is really a brunch, brought over by one couple to the home of Snowdrop. How many people will have eaten the same foods on this Sunday -- bagels and cream cheese and lox and scrambled eggs? Countless. But how many will have had a little Snowdrop to entertain them?
Ah, that's a rare treat indeed!
My girls' dad is here as well, along with his partner and so we are a larger group and little Snowdrop decides to basically chill this one out. This is just fine with everyone.
(The mom chills as well.)
Then the last precious minutes with little Snowdrop's aunt and uncle...
...and the young couple take off for Minneapolis -- a five hour drive from here, but one which they will repeat later this month.
I duck out for a while after that. There are the cheepers to welcome out into the warmer world (or at least the warmer barn...)
And, too, Ed and I want to test our skis for the first time this year -- nothing big, just a spin around the park up the road...
...but it is not to be. The snow seemed heavy on the roof when I shoveled it off, but it had blown and drifted through the park and so there are bare spots. Too many of them for a decent ski. And so we stroll. To the lake and back again.
In the late afternoon, I return to little Snowdrop's home. You'd have to have a hard heart not to be lulled into the warmth of a scene like this. (The book: Guess How Much I Love You.)
Evening. Little Snowdrop dozes. It's been one heck of a week for her. Still, she is one who is forward looking. She knows which end is up.
Her mom looks in on her. You'll see your aunt and uncle soon! And in the spring, we'll go to the market and we'll stop at Farmer John's cheese stand and...
