We woke to a dusting of delicate snow. Such purity!
It's unusual that I do not check my computer throughout the day -- for mail, for news -- but today was such a day. I was so totally focused on the task of caring for Snowdrop that it wasn't until late, very late, that I realized there was yet another tragedy unfolding, this one in California.
My post is written with that total innocence of not knowing, not thinking about the vile instincts buried within the human soul. In other words, it is written in the way that I always want to write it: with a belief that the quiet, the calm, the noble prevails.
Light snow. Nothing that would bring the skis out from the porch, where they rest waiting for a real workout...
But enough to make me smile as I go out to free the cheepers. Of course, the girls think that it's all too much for their delicate sensibilities. You can see them eyeing the world with some suspicion. You want to leave the barn for this? No? Me neither!
We had our share of wakeful hours at night, as Ed is still trying to manage his bronchial issues (but he's on an upswing!) and so not surprisingly, I crawl back to bed after my run to the barn. And then I proceed to sleep too late and so breakfast is a tad too hurried...
... and when I arrive at Snowdrop's home, she is already bathed and ready for play. Here's her what do you have in mind for today, grandma? moment.
But perhaps I should reinterpret that pose, because now that she moves with such freedom, and now that she knows how to get my attention and to bring out my own peels of laughter, she takes charge of her play. I can redirect, but the fact is, she has firm ideas about what she loves and what she wants to do.
From the beginning, she's insistent that I dance with her. Well, okay, that works for a handful of songs. But she is awfully close to 20 pounds and I'm awfully close to social security's official retirement age. I can switch her to bouncing on my knee for a while...
But inevitably, she'll come and raise her arms in that universal gesture of wanting to be held up up up! In her case, to the rhythm of some bouncy music. Jingle bells will do!
And speaking of the holidays, Snowdrop is keen on showing me her newest interest -- the magnetic advent calendar. Oh, does she love it!
It's pointless to tell her she is doing the countdown backwards. As I said, Snowdrop has strong views on matters of play.
Until she exhausts herself.
And then she is happy to snuggle on grandma's tummy ...
In the afternoon, I tell the girl: we're going to the mall!
This, of course, means nothing to her. To my knowledge, she'd only been to the mall once, with me (oh! -- what does this say about me??), when she was so wee that surely she recognized nothing but a blur of activity.
Today, I don't have a stroller with me, but I'm thinking surely there will be something at the mall for harried shoppers. If you're a mall manager, wouldn't you want to make life easy for the mommies or grandmas so that they would feel free to spend, spend, spend?
They do have something. For a fee. A huge car thing that I think surely will intimidate her. Should I spend the $5?
I put in my credit card. Having already hauled the babe across the entire mall (in search of the strollers), I need to put her down. Into something I can push.
It turns out she is natural at the wheel.
Here's a full view of the "stroller:"
Snowdrop is a determined driver!
After a few rounds, she decides climbing out is equally fun.
Alright, in you go, into the basket, little one! (While grandma returns some impulsive online purchases.)
We pop over to the Apple store to see if I am eligible for the new iPhone (no: 12 more days). This is her least favorite. Apple geeks seem to unnerve her. The store is brights, stark, cold. She is happy to be out.
At Payless, I have her try on shoes. No, I don't think so. Back they go.
And finally we drive back, to the peace of the farmette.
Such a beautiful place, in all seasons.
Snowdrop is in her sweetest, liveliest mood tonight. Here's a photo of her supper -- leeks and chicken mush, followed by strawberries. It may have been her first strawberry. I think in the end she likes it almost as much as the mush.
I'll end with a photo of our play of light on the wall. It always enchants her. And me. Stars, moons, Saturn and somewhere in there, our own troubled but so very beautiful Earth.
It's unusual that I do not check my computer throughout the day -- for mail, for news -- but today was such a day. I was so totally focused on the task of caring for Snowdrop that it wasn't until late, very late, that I realized there was yet another tragedy unfolding, this one in California.
My post is written with that total innocence of not knowing, not thinking about the vile instincts buried within the human soul. In other words, it is written in the way that I always want to write it: with a belief that the quiet, the calm, the noble prevails.
Light snow. Nothing that would bring the skis out from the porch, where they rest waiting for a real workout...
But enough to make me smile as I go out to free the cheepers. Of course, the girls think that it's all too much for their delicate sensibilities. You can see them eyeing the world with some suspicion. You want to leave the barn for this? No? Me neither!
We had our share of wakeful hours at night, as Ed is still trying to manage his bronchial issues (but he's on an upswing!) and so not surprisingly, I crawl back to bed after my run to the barn. And then I proceed to sleep too late and so breakfast is a tad too hurried...
... and when I arrive at Snowdrop's home, she is already bathed and ready for play. Here's her what do you have in mind for today, grandma? moment.
But perhaps I should reinterpret that pose, because now that she moves with such freedom, and now that she knows how to get my attention and to bring out my own peels of laughter, she takes charge of her play. I can redirect, but the fact is, she has firm ideas about what she loves and what she wants to do.
From the beginning, she's insistent that I dance with her. Well, okay, that works for a handful of songs. But she is awfully close to 20 pounds and I'm awfully close to social security's official retirement age. I can switch her to bouncing on my knee for a while...
But inevitably, she'll come and raise her arms in that universal gesture of wanting to be held up up up! In her case, to the rhythm of some bouncy music. Jingle bells will do!
And speaking of the holidays, Snowdrop is keen on showing me her newest interest -- the magnetic advent calendar. Oh, does she love it!
It's pointless to tell her she is doing the countdown backwards. As I said, Snowdrop has strong views on matters of play.
Until she exhausts herself.
And then she is happy to snuggle on grandma's tummy ...
In the afternoon, I tell the girl: we're going to the mall!
This, of course, means nothing to her. To my knowledge, she'd only been to the mall once, with me (oh! -- what does this say about me??), when she was so wee that surely she recognized nothing but a blur of activity.
Today, I don't have a stroller with me, but I'm thinking surely there will be something at the mall for harried shoppers. If you're a mall manager, wouldn't you want to make life easy for the mommies or grandmas so that they would feel free to spend, spend, spend?
They do have something. For a fee. A huge car thing that I think surely will intimidate her. Should I spend the $5?
I put in my credit card. Having already hauled the babe across the entire mall (in search of the strollers), I need to put her down. Into something I can push.
It turns out she is natural at the wheel.
Here's a full view of the "stroller:"
Snowdrop is a determined driver!
After a few rounds, she decides climbing out is equally fun.
Alright, in you go, into the basket, little one! (While grandma returns some impulsive online purchases.)
We pop over to the Apple store to see if I am eligible for the new iPhone (no: 12 more days). This is her least favorite. Apple geeks seem to unnerve her. The store is brights, stark, cold. She is happy to be out.
At Payless, I have her try on shoes. No, I don't think so. Back they go.
And finally we drive back, to the peace of the farmette.
Such a beautiful place, in all seasons.
Snowdrop is in her sweetest, liveliest mood tonight. Here's a photo of her supper -- leeks and chicken mush, followed by strawberries. It may have been her first strawberry. I think in the end she likes it almost as much as the mush.
I'll end with a photo of our play of light on the wall. It always enchants her. And me. Stars, moons, Saturn and somewhere in there, our own troubled but so very beautiful Earth.
