It hardly matters that we climbed into the low teens today. The day is gray, the winds are strong. Suffice it to say that the cheepers refused to leave the coop.
A Friday breakfast is usually just a touch rushed -- Ed has his tech meetings to go to. I keep things in the kitchen. Northern exposure, southern exposure -- it hardly matters on a sunless day.
Lily, my new old car, has calmed down and stopped fussing. Charged and ready to go on my Friday round of grocery stores. That's the upside. On the other side, I pop by my favorite auto body shop in town and ask if I could forestall the proliferation of rust by buffing up the few spots in the predictable hit-hard-by-salt areas. The owner of the shop responds with a hearty laugh.
I persevere. How much would it slow down the rusting process if I had you touch things up a bit?
Oh, maybe two weeks! -- he's positively chortling.
How long before she'll have gaping rust holes in her body?
One year.
So, I'll be driving something that will look awful on the outside soon enough. Ah, but it's what's inside that counts and right now (and possibly forever after), Lily continues to charm me with her lovely insides and her smooth ride!
Going for groceries (which, for me, requires two, sometimes three separate stops), then unloading all that I buy for the week takes a good 3.5 hours. I set out with enthusiasm and always come back a tad disturbed by how much of the day is behind me.
As the winds continue to gust fiercely from west to east, I go to check on the cheepers, offering them some cooked corn and bread bits. They're still hiding inside. I don't want to coax them out into the bitter cold and so I give them the plate of food right in the coop and they gratefully devour it, emerging only briefly from their football-like huddle.
Friday. The young parents truly like having this evening to themselves and so I have the great pleasure of entertaining little Snowdrop at the farmhouse. She is at that crucial age where she can see, feel, recognize so much -- but it all doesn't quite make sense to her. The world seems so chaotic and fast paced! And so Snowdrop moves very quickly from calm...
... to worried.
... to playful.
... to worried again.
It's hard to be a wee little baby. Or a parent of a wee little baby. Grandmas (most grandmas) -- they have it easy. At the end of the day, they hand the wee one over to mom and dad and sit back and think about what movie to watch or what book to read.
But here's the thing: babies grow, seasons change, daffodils eventually do burst into bloom. I have a bunch waiting to do just that in the front yard. There's so much to anticipate with pleasure!
A Friday breakfast is usually just a touch rushed -- Ed has his tech meetings to go to. I keep things in the kitchen. Northern exposure, southern exposure -- it hardly matters on a sunless day.
Lily, my new old car, has calmed down and stopped fussing. Charged and ready to go on my Friday round of grocery stores. That's the upside. On the other side, I pop by my favorite auto body shop in town and ask if I could forestall the proliferation of rust by buffing up the few spots in the predictable hit-hard-by-salt areas. The owner of the shop responds with a hearty laugh.
I persevere. How much would it slow down the rusting process if I had you touch things up a bit?
Oh, maybe two weeks! -- he's positively chortling.
How long before she'll have gaping rust holes in her body?
One year.
So, I'll be driving something that will look awful on the outside soon enough. Ah, but it's what's inside that counts and right now (and possibly forever after), Lily continues to charm me with her lovely insides and her smooth ride!
Going for groceries (which, for me, requires two, sometimes three separate stops), then unloading all that I buy for the week takes a good 3.5 hours. I set out with enthusiasm and always come back a tad disturbed by how much of the day is behind me.
As the winds continue to gust fiercely from west to east, I go to check on the cheepers, offering them some cooked corn and bread bits. They're still hiding inside. I don't want to coax them out into the bitter cold and so I give them the plate of food right in the coop and they gratefully devour it, emerging only briefly from their football-like huddle.
Friday. The young parents truly like having this evening to themselves and so I have the great pleasure of entertaining little Snowdrop at the farmhouse. She is at that crucial age where she can see, feel, recognize so much -- but it all doesn't quite make sense to her. The world seems so chaotic and fast paced! And so Snowdrop moves very quickly from calm...
... to worried.
... to playful.
... to worried again.
It's hard to be a wee little baby. Or a parent of a wee little baby. Grandmas (most grandmas) -- they have it easy. At the end of the day, they hand the wee one over to mom and dad and sit back and think about what movie to watch or what book to read.
But here's the thing: babies grow, seasons change, daffodils eventually do burst into bloom. I have a bunch waiting to do just that in the front yard. There's so much to anticipate with pleasure!
