There is nothing kind to be said about today's weather (for late April anyway) and so it's best to stay silent on the topic.
I let the cheepers out at their usual time (just after 6). Suffice it to say they made a bee line for the barn and stayed there the better part of the morning.
Breakfast is in the front room and it is late, because I take the time to warm up before officially starting our day. We're leisurely about eating, too, which is always lovely. Rush through life if you must, but give yourself plenty of time for the morning meal. It's a meditation on the day ahead.
(As we clear the table after, Ed asks -- do you want the jar of molasses moved? I remind him -- It's buckwheat honey! Poles like the slightly bitter taste of this dark honey, but I rarely see it in stores here and so I was surprised to discover that a local bee keeper actually stocks it.)
Outside, it's barely 40F, but there is hope: our beautiful crab apple is about to deliver her week of grandeur.
As I go to the car to drive over to Snowdrop's home, I see that the rains have paused and the cheepers have ventured all the way out onto the driveway. Move over, girls! No, no, I have nothing for you! Ohhhh, alright. Let me get some bread.
Snowdrop is happy to see me and anxious to get started on the reading.
And we do that and I think she is settled in for the day, but no. Shortly after our time with books, she gets my shoes and takes my hand. And I think -- well, in winter, this would have been great weather for walking. Fine, let's go, little girl! But with a hoodie and a fleece and blanket around your legs!
At the distant coffee shop, she eyes someone's smile...
And now what are they doing over there? - she seems to be asking.
We warm up, we walk home. But we don't stay there for long. I'm thinking the little one will benefit from a romp across the farmette lands if in the later afternoon the rains continue to hold back.
But she wants to be out from the get go. Okay, briefly. To feed the cheepers.
With Snowdrop, there is no such thing as briefly. Here she is, insisting on a pause with the flowers...
... Taking off then to the sheep shed (I'm going that way, grandma!)
... with an asparagus stalk in her small fist. (The cheepers are wondering if there may be more bread somewhere in that little girl's hand... no? too bad... we're not that into asparagus -- you can keep it).
Here she is imitating chicken noises...
And then I insist we go inside.
Snowdrop is with us until her bedtime (which is not too dissimilar from my bedtime!) and so there is plenty of time for play.
And for sharing a dinner. Curried cauliflower, garden asparagus with parmiggiano, grilled cheese and cheeper eggs. Followed by mango and blueberries. She likes it all.
Just before it's time for Snowdrop to go home, she and Ed go out to put the cheepers away. She'd already had plenty of time outside, walking the farmette land, admiring its singular beauty. But she never says no to an outdoor adventure.
Was it cold outside? I guess so. Somehow, by the end of the day, I had forgotten that.
I let the cheepers out at their usual time (just after 6). Suffice it to say they made a bee line for the barn and stayed there the better part of the morning.
Breakfast is in the front room and it is late, because I take the time to warm up before officially starting our day. We're leisurely about eating, too, which is always lovely. Rush through life if you must, but give yourself plenty of time for the morning meal. It's a meditation on the day ahead.
(As we clear the table after, Ed asks -- do you want the jar of molasses moved? I remind him -- It's buckwheat honey! Poles like the slightly bitter taste of this dark honey, but I rarely see it in stores here and so I was surprised to discover that a local bee keeper actually stocks it.)
Outside, it's barely 40F, but there is hope: our beautiful crab apple is about to deliver her week of grandeur.
As I go to the car to drive over to Snowdrop's home, I see that the rains have paused and the cheepers have ventured all the way out onto the driveway. Move over, girls! No, no, I have nothing for you! Ohhhh, alright. Let me get some bread.
Snowdrop is happy to see me and anxious to get started on the reading.
And we do that and I think she is settled in for the day, but no. Shortly after our time with books, she gets my shoes and takes my hand. And I think -- well, in winter, this would have been great weather for walking. Fine, let's go, little girl! But with a hoodie and a fleece and blanket around your legs!
At the distant coffee shop, she eyes someone's smile...
And now what are they doing over there? - she seems to be asking.
We warm up, we walk home. But we don't stay there for long. I'm thinking the little one will benefit from a romp across the farmette lands if in the later afternoon the rains continue to hold back.
But she wants to be out from the get go. Okay, briefly. To feed the cheepers.
With Snowdrop, there is no such thing as briefly. Here she is, insisting on a pause with the flowers...
... Taking off then to the sheep shed (I'm going that way, grandma!)
... with an asparagus stalk in her small fist. (The cheepers are wondering if there may be more bread somewhere in that little girl's hand... no? too bad... we're not that into asparagus -- you can keep it).
Here she is imitating chicken noises...
And then I insist we go inside.
Snowdrop is with us until her bedtime (which is not too dissimilar from my bedtime!) and so there is plenty of time for play.
And for sharing a dinner. Curried cauliflower, garden asparagus with parmiggiano, grilled cheese and cheeper eggs. Followed by mango and blueberries. She likes it all.
Just before it's time for Snowdrop to go home, she and Ed go out to put the cheepers away. She'd already had plenty of time outside, walking the farmette land, admiring its singular beauty. But she never says no to an outdoor adventure.
Was it cold outside? I guess so. Somehow, by the end of the day, I had forgotten that.
My favorite photo from a few days ago: Snowdrop in the sun with asparagus and chickens.
ReplyDeleteThat one needs to be matted and framed. So happy!
I can remember how it felt when all the world was new to me. I mean, I really recall, sensory memories like warm sun on a big rock where I sat... sheets on the line under a blue sky... my wading pool after nap time, when the sun had made the water warm... the scents of our garden, which came back strongly to me as an adult, and I had to find out what those shrubs were and plant them in my own yard.
And at night, faraway music from Little Italy, always some Saint's Feast Day... my flowered curtains blowing in the breeze as I would sleepily watch and watch to see if they might blow close enough to the bed for me to touch... I actually remember being in the crib. happy little child.
I see that joyfulness in Snowdrop and am reminded.
Lucky little girl! and you and Ed have the joy of seeing everything fresh, along with her.