Wednesday

Looking out the upstairs window, I'm thinking this morning the farmette appears like someone had unevenly poured a sack of salt over it. Yes, it snowed, no, it didn't improve the landscape much.






There is, however, always breakfast.





The cheepers are back to hanging out in the barn. No outdoor runs for them, not when there's any white stuff on the ground. It's just as well. I cringe when I see them in their molted stage. It's all wrong for this time of the year, though I am grateful that it is only a "soft molt." A hard molt would expose their skin. I've seen pictures of it -- it looks like someone started plucking hens for the kettle and then, for some reason, changed their mind halfway through. I can't imagine them surviving winter with exposed skin. Right now they look depleted, but still feathered.






In the afternoon, I visit little Snowdrop. Now, there's a source of color and joy for you! I find her in her dad's lap, looking this way and that...






Okay, girl, gotta give your parents some time to catch up with their stuff!

It goes without saying that she and I have terrific adventures in the hours that follow. Of the type you can have with a 2.5 week old! (It includes a nap on grandma's tummy.)





Such beautiful days! It's hard to believe that with each week, they only get better.