Well, it slushed during the night, it slushed during the morning commute -- what kind of a winter storm is it that brings with it the slop but not the glory of a beautiful landscape?
I ask Ed to please release the cheepers. I want to stay cocooned in the dry warmth of the farmhouse as long as I can.
At least through breakfast (which is a tad hurried, because it's Wednesday -- an early Snowdrop day for me). I'm not going to get a grin out of you today, am I? Hey, I don't mind dealing with stubborn photographic subjects!
As I step out and get ready to wipe the wet snow off the car, I do have to say that even in this most unpretty winter wetness, there are scenes of loveliness. You have to really look for it, but they're there.
Snowdrop sleeps in this morning. I'm not surprised. The girl has figured out that with a bit of a stretch, she can turn the light on and off from her crib. Like a teenager, she sneaks in additional play minutes when the world thinks her to be in dreamland. Because she is, on balance, such an excellent sleeper, we can but smile in amusement at her foray into a more adult control of her environment. Somehow she gets the rest she needs. That's all that matters for now.
And reliably, she wakes up with the biggest smile.
Hey, let's get you out of your pj's and into the tub! There's pumpkin and banana on your face!
Initially, I think that since I am wearing a warm sweater, she should do the same.
But I quickly realize that the girl no longer just walks, she positively sprints from one corner of the house to the next. In other words, she's warm, even without the sweater vest.
I listen to the sound of shovels outside. I suppose slush deserves to be moved as well, especially if we're going to return to our freezing temperatures by evening.
What a curious winter this is! Fewer Arctic blasts, fewer great snowfalls -- a winter of nonevents.
Never mind. Ed and I have a fantastic flower project in mind come spring. And in case you don't remember, that's the season that's next in line.
I'll leave you with a photo that picks up on the theme of ignoring that, which you cannot control:
And if you do succeed in putting your focus elsewhere, you're bound to have a fine old day. No matter what the weather or the level of cat indifference.
I ask Ed to please release the cheepers. I want to stay cocooned in the dry warmth of the farmhouse as long as I can.
At least through breakfast (which is a tad hurried, because it's Wednesday -- an early Snowdrop day for me). I'm not going to get a grin out of you today, am I? Hey, I don't mind dealing with stubborn photographic subjects!
As I step out and get ready to wipe the wet snow off the car, I do have to say that even in this most unpretty winter wetness, there are scenes of loveliness. You have to really look for it, but they're there.
Snowdrop sleeps in this morning. I'm not surprised. The girl has figured out that with a bit of a stretch, she can turn the light on and off from her crib. Like a teenager, she sneaks in additional play minutes when the world thinks her to be in dreamland. Because she is, on balance, such an excellent sleeper, we can but smile in amusement at her foray into a more adult control of her environment. Somehow she gets the rest she needs. That's all that matters for now.
And reliably, she wakes up with the biggest smile.
Hey, let's get you out of your pj's and into the tub! There's pumpkin and banana on your face!
Initially, I think that since I am wearing a warm sweater, she should do the same.
But I quickly realize that the girl no longer just walks, she positively sprints from one corner of the house to the next. In other words, she's warm, even without the sweater vest.
I listen to the sound of shovels outside. I suppose slush deserves to be moved as well, especially if we're going to return to our freezing temperatures by evening.
What a curious winter this is! Fewer Arctic blasts, fewer great snowfalls -- a winter of nonevents.
Never mind. Ed and I have a fantastic flower project in mind come spring. And in case you don't remember, that's the season that's next in line.
I'll leave you with a photo that picks up on the theme of ignoring that, which you cannot control:
And if you do succeed in putting your focus elsewhere, you're bound to have a fine old day. No matter what the weather or the level of cat indifference.
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