As someone said on the radio this morning -- today, for the first time this year, it feels like October!
I agree. I pull on Ed's bulky jacket to let the cheepers out and, returning to the farmhouse, I am exceptionally grateful for the few remaining flowers lining my path to the door -- I know that in a few days, they'll all be gone.
We eat breakfast in the front room. Ed is surprised that this morning I eeked out a small bouquet from the garden. I tell him it's likely to be the last one.
We talk about elements of the week ahead -- it will be a busy one. I see the look on his face -- too much detail, you're throwing too much detail at me! That's okay. He'll retreat to the sheep shed for the remainder of the day where he'll regain his peace.
Just don't forget to be here for the grocery delivery (yes, we need more fruit and I have no time to pick them up)! And you might want to throw some wood shavings into the coop and...
Too much detail!
I smile and drive off, thinking -- well, juggling detail keeps the mind sharp. I'm keeping us cognitively healthy.
Snowdrop is a super late sleeper this morning. Finally. Up and bathed and ready to eat. She has that anxious look, as in -- are you going to feed me already?
She wears herself down after, practicing everything that's new and difficult.
No, you don't have to hold onto me, grandma... I don't think...
There, see grandma?
Oh, that girl! Sometimes she has me forget that she is just a tad more than nine months old. Consider this photo: doesn't it seem like she is participating in a debate and winning the round?
Snowdrop is only a babe when she is snuggling against you, sucking her thumb in that peculiarly Snowdrop fashion. At other times -- like here, when she is asking Virgil (in my interpretation) whether he is a Halloween cat...
...she seems like she a school aged child.
At the end of the day, my daughter comes back from work and she and I take off. We need a moment to catch up. We grab a drink at Gibs.
Such a good week! Time with both daughters, time with Snowdrop!
Wait, have I neglected Ed? Later, much later, I ask him that.
Shhh! He tells me. I'm listening to the debate.
I agree. I pull on Ed's bulky jacket to let the cheepers out and, returning to the farmhouse, I am exceptionally grateful for the few remaining flowers lining my path to the door -- I know that in a few days, they'll all be gone.
We eat breakfast in the front room. Ed is surprised that this morning I eeked out a small bouquet from the garden. I tell him it's likely to be the last one.
We talk about elements of the week ahead -- it will be a busy one. I see the look on his face -- too much detail, you're throwing too much detail at me! That's okay. He'll retreat to the sheep shed for the remainder of the day where he'll regain his peace.
Just don't forget to be here for the grocery delivery (yes, we need more fruit and I have no time to pick them up)! And you might want to throw some wood shavings into the coop and...
Too much detail!
I smile and drive off, thinking -- well, juggling detail keeps the mind sharp. I'm keeping us cognitively healthy.
Snowdrop is a super late sleeper this morning. Finally. Up and bathed and ready to eat. She has that anxious look, as in -- are you going to feed me already?
She wears herself down after, practicing everything that's new and difficult.
No, you don't have to hold onto me, grandma... I don't think...
There, see grandma?
Oh, that girl! Sometimes she has me forget that she is just a tad more than nine months old. Consider this photo: doesn't it seem like she is participating in a debate and winning the round?
Snowdrop is only a babe when she is snuggling against you, sucking her thumb in that peculiarly Snowdrop fashion. At other times -- like here, when she is asking Virgil (in my interpretation) whether he is a Halloween cat...
...she seems like she a school aged child.
At the end of the day, my daughter comes back from work and she and I take off. We need a moment to catch up. We grab a drink at Gibs.
Such a good week! Time with both daughters, time with Snowdrop!
Wait, have I neglected Ed? Later, much later, I ask him that.
Shhh! He tells me. I'm listening to the debate.
