variations on a melody

Honestly, it is like that -- each day is a pretty little piece of music that repeats itself with slight twists and detours and the occasional crescendo, but it is a familiar set of notes, that do not change greatly from day to day.

But if you want my blunt opinion, I will be quite happy when the next three cold days pass and we are back to the warmth of a true spring.

This morning, after breakfast...





I stay home and study the apartment plans Pani Karolina sent me. You'll remember perhaps that she is the person who is boldly and bravely leading the renovation team that will be transforming my Warsaw apartment from something horrible to something quite lovely (that's the goal anyway). Right now, two students are still residing there with their big musical instruments, but this does not mean that nothing is being done: plans are hatched, project proposals reviewed. Doing this at a distance means that I have to have a good deal of trust. I cannot be concerned with every detail. And in fact, I have plenty of trust: I assume Pani Karolina understands what I want and has the good sense and good taste to create a very lovely interior. I'll not show the plans just yet, but I do want to note here that I studied them with some degree of care today.

(Ed comes in to show me the haul of eggs for this morning. The green looks better when placed next to the white and brown.)






And then, of course, it is time to care for Snowdrop.

Our games are, in part, predictable. There is always, for example, a time when she and I make tea.

Grandma! It's ready! The kettle is whistling! Now, grandma, now!!






And then she'll run run run run run!






These days, there is the Hyde Park Corner speech, told from her chair.






Sitting with penguins is de rigeur as well.






There will be, for a while yet I'm sure, that painstakingly delicate task of turning single pages of a book, though today there is a change of material.





This is a big book that belongs to her dad, who has, for a long time now, loved baseball. Snowdrop will surely know a lot more about the game than I do and I think she has already been to more games than I have in my life. (That perhaps could be misinterpreted to mean that she is a regular at our local ballpark. She really isn't -- it's just that she and I come to sports with different histories and cultural imperatives. I'm sure she will never be as avid a ski jump watcher as I have been in my time. Ski jumping is big in Poland.)

But I smile, too, at how subtle a baby sitter's influence can be. It's no secret that I love train travel. I don't think it will be long before she boards some train car of some sort in her young life. And in the meanwhile, she and I can be excited about toy versions of this experience.






Though of course, I am as excited when she picks up a ball (the girl goes big!) and tosses is at me with great pride.






Should I be less excited to see her take a step toward texting and driving (she's sitting at the driver's seat after all)? No! I prefer to think she's catching up on her novel while in a parking lot, while her friends? partner? children? (children?!?) shop.






Today's song was well sung, though with some tough bars as the little girl is still ovecomming her sniffles. Tomorrow? Oh, you can never tell! There will be a variation or two. For sure.