Tuesday

It's an "on the one hand" kind of day.  For example -- on the one hand, we wake up to brilliant sunshine. On the other hand, there is a deep frost. The kind that flowers love to hate.






But, the cheepers are not unhappy. No snow, little wind and a row of seeds thrown down in a way that allows them all to eat without squabbling.






But the flowers hate the cold. It doesn't matter that we'll climb into the forties F. Right now, it's in the twenties and that's just not kind to fragile blooms.






Well, but there is that sunshine! Let's focus on that for a bit.






As I drive to Snowdrop's home and the frost slowly melts off the windshield, I decide that my love of sunshine trumps the disdain I have for such cool weather in April.

But I dress Snowdrop warmly.

(She shows off an old chair that was given to her by her granddad. She especially likes to load every conceivable penguin -- and there are many -- onto it, but I refrained from taking that photo -- it's all penguin fur and little evidence of the girl herself. Here she is with only one bird on her lap.)






But what she especially loves is to stand on the chair and articulate. Honestly, she reminds me of someone standing above the populace on Hyde Park Corner in London, shouting her message to all who pass by. She does not use her restaurant voice. And she is pretty convincing! Perhaps she's telling Wisconsin how to cast its collective ballot today?






And then she settles down to turning pages again and I think I've lost her for a long long while...





...until I think to say the magic words -- Snowdrop, should we go out for a walk now, while the sun is with us?

Really grandma? We can go out?? Really?!?






I do bundle the girl well. I didn't think I'd need a blanket for an April outing, but I do. I really do.






We pause at our favorite cafe and yes, she is eager for her scone nibble.






I remind her that we have to put the chair back after we use it -- it's all routine for us now and like every child -- this one loves familiar routines.






And just as we return home, the sun disappears and we are left with that "on the other hand" part of the day, where it's just too darn cold for April.


But you know, kids don't see this. Their joy comes from something entirely different. A warm interior -- yes, of course. And that's enough. What's outside -- I've never seen a toddler complain about the an April temp hovering below average.






I'll end with what looks to me like a moment of reflection. Snowdrop has a bit of a cold. All day long she takes it in stride. But here, she pauses and reflects. I love that about her (and I suppose every other 15 month old, for she is that age today)! She can reflect, then move on.






We learn things from each other, she and I. How good is that!