But we're in no hurry to get going. It's a long, slow climb out of the single digits out there and neither the cheepers nor the two of us (make that three -- Isie boy is right by our side) are anxious to be out and about. The blizzard had gusted snow into the barn and even after we swept a good bit of it out, the cheepers were greatly disappointed to see their sacred turf suddenly dusted with the horrid white stuff.
(what's this?? Yuk!)
(we'll just stay inside the coop... can you serve us your cornbread in here?)
Eventually there is breakfast.
And inevitably there is the shoveling. And by late morning there is that great desire to be out in the snow and sun. Even the cheepers consider (albeit briefly) stepping out into the world.
For us -- it is our first skiing of the season!
The trails in our county park aren't groomed yet and so it's slow going. We work up a sweat just moving across the deep snowbanks. Off goes the hat!
But it is truly magnificent to be skiing again! I remember why, in fact, I do not mind winter in Wisconsin.
In the late afternoon, I visit my daughter and little Snowdrop just as she announces her readiness to eat.
And here's a real treat for me: in the evening, the young parents bring her over to the farmhouse, so that they can finally grab that meal, just the two of them -- postponed from yesterday, due to the blizzard.
(Ed, with a cookie and with Snowdrop)
Little Snowdrop was magnificent!
Ed? He fell asleep on the couch to the sound of the wind up lullabies I played for the littlest one.