A favorite Ed saying: things break.
My common retort: they break more when you buy old things.
But in fact, he's not entirely right and neither am I. Our refrigerator was fairly new when it conked out. Our clothes dryer is probably thirty or forty years old (and it looks it!), but it keeps spinning and drying those clothes as if it were made of something extraterrestrial. Ed's ancient computer is speedy as can be. Our new shower sprung a leak way too quickly and now, today, I notice a flood underneath the kitchen sink. You know, the one that was installed when we gutted the farmhouse and decked it out with new fixtures five and a half years ago.
I didn't discover the flood until after breakfast. A sunny breakfast on a very sunny day.
Only when I was racing the clock to put away groceries before the Snowdrop pick up time did I notice the wet rug and felt the wet cabinet.
Ed's at his tech meetings and me, I'm telling myself that I am perfectly capable of putting this kitchen disaster out of my head. I have a beautiful afternoon ahead. Let's concentrate on that!
I pick up the girl and tell her that we must hurry home so that she can rest. We'll be going to the county park in the late afternoon. With the beloved (these days) wagon!
She offers no protest. She naps, we play a little...
And in the late afternoon, her mommy comes home. There's enough daylight left! We're off!
Indian Lake. How many times have I been there? Perhaps too many to count? Snowdrop herself came here with us last fall for a bundled hike. She wanted out of her wrap. We persevered. She acquiesced, but just barely. Today, she surely has preferences, but ones we can more easily honor: to run...
... to push the wagon which I had managed to squeeze into the car, at the same time that I did not have to squeeze out my daughter...
... to pick flowers. And give them to mommy.
... to ride again...
... to admire the red in the trees...
... to sit on a bench...
... to be happy in her game of hide and seek...
... to kind of sort of allow us to do a selfie on a self timer...
... to tell her mommy that she wants to go "that way!"
... to revel in the joy of just being there, on a fine day, with family...
... to walk holding hands...
... to admire the changing hues.
All that and so much more.
Just an hour or two, so well spent.
As I return to the farmette, I can't help but notice the moon. It looks full and glorious, but in fact, it still needs a day or two to reach its full harvest splendidness. I suppose it's like anything else -- you think adding just a bit more, and it will be better, when in fact it's plenty good just the way it is.
My common retort: they break more when you buy old things.
But in fact, he's not entirely right and neither am I. Our refrigerator was fairly new when it conked out. Our clothes dryer is probably thirty or forty years old (and it looks it!), but it keeps spinning and drying those clothes as if it were made of something extraterrestrial. Ed's ancient computer is speedy as can be. Our new shower sprung a leak way too quickly and now, today, I notice a flood underneath the kitchen sink. You know, the one that was installed when we gutted the farmhouse and decked it out with new fixtures five and a half years ago.
I didn't discover the flood until after breakfast. A sunny breakfast on a very sunny day.
Only when I was racing the clock to put away groceries before the Snowdrop pick up time did I notice the wet rug and felt the wet cabinet.
Ed's at his tech meetings and me, I'm telling myself that I am perfectly capable of putting this kitchen disaster out of my head. I have a beautiful afternoon ahead. Let's concentrate on that!
I pick up the girl and tell her that we must hurry home so that she can rest. We'll be going to the county park in the late afternoon. With the beloved (these days) wagon!
She offers no protest. She naps, we play a little...
And in the late afternoon, her mommy comes home. There's enough daylight left! We're off!
Indian Lake. How many times have I been there? Perhaps too many to count? Snowdrop herself came here with us last fall for a bundled hike. She wanted out of her wrap. We persevered. She acquiesced, but just barely. Today, she surely has preferences, but ones we can more easily honor: to run...
... to push the wagon which I had managed to squeeze into the car, at the same time that I did not have to squeeze out my daughter...
... to pick flowers. And give them to mommy.
... to ride again...
... to admire the red in the trees...
... to sit on a bench...
... to be happy in her game of hide and seek...
... to kind of sort of allow us to do a selfie on a self timer...
... to tell her mommy that she wants to go "that way!"
... to revel in the joy of just being there, on a fine day, with family...
... to walk holding hands...
... to admire the changing hues.
All that and so much more.
Just an hour or two, so well spent.
As I return to the farmette, I can't help but notice the moon. It looks full and glorious, but in fact, it still needs a day or two to reach its full harvest splendidness. I suppose it's like anything else -- you think adding just a bit more, and it will be better, when in fact it's plenty good just the way it is.
I so love the photo of your three generations, and also the one of S looking over her shoulder. What a lovely afternoon for the three of you. Have a great weekend, too!
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