Perhaps my enthusiasm was premature. We have before us a slow progression toward better times. Emphasis on slow.
It is a cloudy morning and it feels, therefore, as if we arrested the climb out of the weather doldrums. But it's all in the mind. Not too long ago, I would have been very happy to walk over to the chicken coop in just a fleece. Today, I expected at least a feeble ray of sun and was, therefore, a wee bit put off by the gray skies.
Breakfast in the front room.
And then a rush to Snowdrop's home.
My weather maps say (still using caps, because the change to mixed letters wont come until May 11th) TODAY WILL BE TEN DEGREES WARMER THAN YESTERDAY, but of course, yesterday was sunny and in the forties. A cloudy fifties F is nothing to brag about.
But I refuse to admit defeat and acknowledge that we are not yet dancing with May baskets dangling on our elbows and I dress Snowdrop in something that was definitely intended for spring.
That's overshooting the season alright. Never mind. The girl is so very active and the house is warm.
She is a tease today and looks for ways to make me laugh (or to see me respond with shock, which, to her, is equally entertaining).
But the running theme all morning long is clear: she really wants to go out. I mean really, really wants that.
It has to warm up, Snowdrop. Just wait a little while longer. I distract her with her favorite books...
But, not to get repetitive about this -- she really wants to go out, pointing to my shoes, the outdoors, the closet, her shoes, using every signal in her repertoire to get me to understand what I, in fact, do understand and finally I relent.
She is a bit anxious -- really? You wont change your mind? -- until I lay out our jackets, shoes and tell her to go get her penguin of choice for the ride.
We have a wonderful walk through the neighborhood and we do make it to the more distant coffee shop where I pluck out a few raisins from Grandpa Ed's oatmeal raisin cookie. When a crumb goes down the wrong way, I offer her water, catching myself too late that she is perhaps too young to be navigating a cup by herself. But she is very much a girl who likes to take on the new, the challenging. So the swig is a bit full. So what. A wee wet spot on the sweater. Big deal.
In the afternoon, I keep her sweater on, even inside the house. Tomorrow, there is talk of abundant sunshine. That's so wonderful! But today, the sweater stays on.
I drive home in the late afternoon. The truck farmers to the east of the farmette are working the fields -- clearing, burning, cultivating. It's still doesn't look much like a growing season, but believe me, it is that. Very much so.
What, you think Ocean hasn't shown enough of what's blooming out there? Okay, here's a duo of miniature daffodils. Bunches of them line our driveway. It's a cheerful welcome home.
It is a cloudy morning and it feels, therefore, as if we arrested the climb out of the weather doldrums. But it's all in the mind. Not too long ago, I would have been very happy to walk over to the chicken coop in just a fleece. Today, I expected at least a feeble ray of sun and was, therefore, a wee bit put off by the gray skies.
Breakfast in the front room.
And then a rush to Snowdrop's home.
My weather maps say (still using caps, because the change to mixed letters wont come until May 11th) TODAY WILL BE TEN DEGREES WARMER THAN YESTERDAY, but of course, yesterday was sunny and in the forties. A cloudy fifties F is nothing to brag about.
But I refuse to admit defeat and acknowledge that we are not yet dancing with May baskets dangling on our elbows and I dress Snowdrop in something that was definitely intended for spring.
That's overshooting the season alright. Never mind. The girl is so very active and the house is warm.
She is a tease today and looks for ways to make me laugh (or to see me respond with shock, which, to her, is equally entertaining).
But the running theme all morning long is clear: she really wants to go out. I mean really, really wants that.
It has to warm up, Snowdrop. Just wait a little while longer. I distract her with her favorite books...
But, not to get repetitive about this -- she really wants to go out, pointing to my shoes, the outdoors, the closet, her shoes, using every signal in her repertoire to get me to understand what I, in fact, do understand and finally I relent.
She is a bit anxious -- really? You wont change your mind? -- until I lay out our jackets, shoes and tell her to go get her penguin of choice for the ride.
We have a wonderful walk through the neighborhood and we do make it to the more distant coffee shop where I pluck out a few raisins from Grandpa Ed's oatmeal raisin cookie. When a crumb goes down the wrong way, I offer her water, catching myself too late that she is perhaps too young to be navigating a cup by herself. But she is very much a girl who likes to take on the new, the challenging. So the swig is a bit full. So what. A wee wet spot on the sweater. Big deal.
In the afternoon, I keep her sweater on, even inside the house. Tomorrow, there is talk of abundant sunshine. That's so wonderful! But today, the sweater stays on.
I drive home in the late afternoon. The truck farmers to the east of the farmette are working the fields -- clearing, burning, cultivating. It's still doesn't look much like a growing season, but believe me, it is that. Very much so.
What, you think Ocean hasn't shown enough of what's blooming out there? Okay, here's a duo of miniature daffodils. Bunches of them line our driveway. It's a cheerful welcome home.
She's at a great age to buy her small (and I would say strong glass) cups (plastic, among its other issues, is too light and tippy). She can learn to use them very quickly.
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