Monday

Ed claims that the weather forecasters always exaggerate the bad news. If they tell you the likelihood is that it wont rain and then it rains, people get mad. But if they say -- looks like it's going to come down hard and then it only drizzles or, better yet, stays dry -- people feel grateful.

Perhaps I should feel good about the fact that we reached 39F today instead of the promised 37F, but frankly, after yesterday's perfection, today just feels like a very huge step backward. Little steps back -- I'll accept, but today's leap is just too brutal.

We eat breakfast in the kitchen, because this room gives forth a feeling of comfort that you crave on colder mornings. There's something about having a stove and a pantry next to you that makes you feel like the world will be a brilliant place once more. Just give it some time.






I do go outside, of course. But I run through the morning cheeper chores quickly. With a pause and a grateful nod to the few daffodils that are starting to bloom.






Snowdrop is at the farmhouse today and I'm not at all convinced that playing outside is a grand idea, but she insists, pulling my jacket toward me and pointing herself toward the door.






I try to distract her with a toy she has been favoring lately...






...but it's not use. She wants the great outdoors, even if it's not so great at the moment.

Well okay -- let's just feed the cheepers.






Grandpa Ed comes out to join us, forgetting that the temps warrant a jacket.






Okay, little one. We gave them bread. We gave them seeds. We played "guess which one is Java?" It's time to head back to the farmhouse.

Snowdrop's mommy taught her to walk holding an adult hand and I so appreciate this new demonstration of companionship!






The cheepers, forever looking for a handout, chase us back to the farmhouse.






Forget it girls! You're on your own. Snowdrop and I are going inside to play!






In the afternoon, the little girl and I set out to do errands. First stop -- Paul's cafe, to replenish our supply of pickles.

It's rare that I run into Paul there these days -- typically, he's busy rolling out pelmeni at his enormously successful downtown eatery. But today, he's at the cafe and we spend a wonderful set of minutes catching up. Snowdrop is momentarily shy, but she always senses a friend. She finds one here, at the cafe.






It's only a few steps from here to the library and we linger there, picking books off the shelf and playing with the puzzles that the library has acquired for children her age.

Perhaps I don't mention this often enough, but it strikes me how rich she and children of this community are in terms of having access to this beautiful world of art and literature.  The picture books in the library overwhelm me with their choice and variety. The surroundings are gorgeous. The air is so warm -- making the temperatures outside irrelevant. Sigh... 

Snowdrop doesn't want to leave, but she is a bit run down these days and so I insist on a return home where she can replenish her energies and rest up for the week ahead.


Me, I go back to the farmhouse and  cook up eggs for supper. Only two hens are laying right now, but even so, we have too many eggs. Time to make a meal of them. Thank you cheepers!