She is up and eager to play two hours before her usual wake up time. My granddaughter appears to like an early start to the day when she comes for a farmhouse visit. She plays in her crib for a while, but at 8:30, she wants to join the party!
Who can blame her. It's a beautiful summer day here -- warm, dry, with a light breeze and a sprinkle of puffy clouds.
But we have our morning routines to attend to. So long as you're hungry -- and surely you must be hungry, Snowdrop! -- let's try that combination of bananas, beets and blueberries!
Well, at least I didn't give you a bath yet.
She cheers up at the sight of grandpa Ed.
You know -- the guy with the beard.
Bath time, blueberry face! And then comes the real breakfast -- first hers, because you know, she's just a baby. And then ours. Out on the porch.
(photo by Ed)
You could say Snowdrop participates in this one as well.
(photo by Ed)
Ed looks on. When I'm not looking, he throws her a wide grin.
I have more chores. Do dishes, pick up laundry from the dryer in the basement... Hey, how do I do that with a baby that is becoming quite mobile and cannot be left alone? (She has a funny half crawl, but it does get her places, albeit with the speed and look of a caterpillar.)
I know! Carry her down on my hip and bring her back up in the basket!
She is only mildly amused.
Okay, okay, okay! You can have your beloved time in the jumparoo!
And before the morning nap -- a quiet moment with a book. I'd like to report that she is reading the story about a bunny to her very own bunny rabbit, but in truth, she is studying both, trying to figure out how each might make it into her mouth.
In the afternoon, we again have tasks before us. The first and perhaps the most important is the wrapping of oddly shaped presents.
It's my daughter's (and Snowdrop's mommy's) birthday today and though she is away for a wedding, we're surely thinking of her!
Happy Birthday, mommy! (this from Snowdrop.)
I do take the little babe out for an adventure toward the end of the afternoon and I suppose it is truly that: we hit the trails of our local Lake Farm County Park. The upside? Well, Ed and I work this park inside out, especially in the winter, as it's only five minutes from the farmette and it has excellent quick skiing -- when there's snow. It's time Snowdrop got to know this favorite local spot of ours.
The downside? Some walking trails are closed for reasons not known to me. And it's not exactly stroller territory. Lots of ruts and rocks to navigate. And there are bugs to chase away.
But, it's a lovely walk nonetheless. Snowdrop is curious -- from a populated mall to this? All these trees! So many!
We come to Lake Waubesa where these two are teaching their grandson to fish.
Snowdrop and I join them for a few minutes. The boy is learning to cast. The grandma is working her smart phone. The grandpa is concentrating on getting the boy comfortable with the reel. It's a lovely scene. Snowdrop is enraptured.
We return home to the farmette. We water the flower tubs, she and I, we play too -- in a quieter way, because the evening calls for that.
One last very late walk through the gardens. I can tell we've turned the corner. The peak -- July -- is behind us. You look now for gentler combinations of blooms.
The tones are warmest at this time of the day.
It is, in many ways, the garden's most sacred hour.
Snowdrop is too young to make use of the swing-back chairs on the porch, but I tell her they're there, waiting for her.
Okay, just one wee taste of a future porch moment...
And we go inside, where I bounce her on my stomach and sing songs that are repetitive and nonsensical and she laughs and laughs...
Oh, Snowdrop!
Who can blame her. It's a beautiful summer day here -- warm, dry, with a light breeze and a sprinkle of puffy clouds.
But we have our morning routines to attend to. So long as you're hungry -- and surely you must be hungry, Snowdrop! -- let's try that combination of bananas, beets and blueberries!
Well, at least I didn't give you a bath yet.
She cheers up at the sight of grandpa Ed.
You know -- the guy with the beard.
Bath time, blueberry face! And then comes the real breakfast -- first hers, because you know, she's just a baby. And then ours. Out on the porch.
(photo by Ed)
You could say Snowdrop participates in this one as well.
(photo by Ed)
Ed looks on. When I'm not looking, he throws her a wide grin.
I have more chores. Do dishes, pick up laundry from the dryer in the basement... Hey, how do I do that with a baby that is becoming quite mobile and cannot be left alone? (She has a funny half crawl, but it does get her places, albeit with the speed and look of a caterpillar.)
I know! Carry her down on my hip and bring her back up in the basket!
She is only mildly amused.
Okay, okay, okay! You can have your beloved time in the jumparoo!
And before the morning nap -- a quiet moment with a book. I'd like to report that she is reading the story about a bunny to her very own bunny rabbit, but in truth, she is studying both, trying to figure out how each might make it into her mouth.
In the afternoon, we again have tasks before us. The first and perhaps the most important is the wrapping of oddly shaped presents.
It's my daughter's (and Snowdrop's mommy's) birthday today and though she is away for a wedding, we're surely thinking of her!
Happy Birthday, mommy! (this from Snowdrop.)
I do take the little babe out for an adventure toward the end of the afternoon and I suppose it is truly that: we hit the trails of our local Lake Farm County Park. The upside? Well, Ed and I work this park inside out, especially in the winter, as it's only five minutes from the farmette and it has excellent quick skiing -- when there's snow. It's time Snowdrop got to know this favorite local spot of ours.
The downside? Some walking trails are closed for reasons not known to me. And it's not exactly stroller territory. Lots of ruts and rocks to navigate. And there are bugs to chase away.
But, it's a lovely walk nonetheless. Snowdrop is curious -- from a populated mall to this? All these trees! So many!
We come to Lake Waubesa where these two are teaching their grandson to fish.
Snowdrop and I join them for a few minutes. The boy is learning to cast. The grandma is working her smart phone. The grandpa is concentrating on getting the boy comfortable with the reel. It's a lovely scene. Snowdrop is enraptured.
We return home to the farmette. We water the flower tubs, she and I, we play too -- in a quieter way, because the evening calls for that.
One last very late walk through the gardens. I can tell we've turned the corner. The peak -- July -- is behind us. You look now for gentler combinations of blooms.
The tones are warmest at this time of the day.
It is, in many ways, the garden's most sacred hour.
Snowdrop is too young to make use of the swing-back chairs on the porch, but I tell her they're there, waiting for her.
Okay, just one wee taste of a future porch moment...
And we go inside, where I bounce her on my stomach and sing songs that are repetitive and nonsensical and she laughs and laughs...
Oh, Snowdrop!
