I tried to put myself in the mind set of "doing ahead" for the Thanksgiving meal. Cake can be done two days in advance? I'll do it! Squash peeled day before? I'm on it!
But in the end, I'm not on it at all. Instead, I spend a good thirty minutes in the morning studying oven thermometers on Amazon, rejecting them all in the end and accomplishing in that time nothing.
Well, that's okay! It's only Monday!
A sunny and cold day. Perfect for a breakfast in the sun room.
I go out to inspect what needs to be done in the yard (not today, just in the near future) and then Ed joins me and we fall to work and clear the yard of the thousands of seed pots. We didn't intend to do that, we just fell into the rhythm of work. And it is a lovely (if cold) day for it.
But what to do with the piles and piles of seed pods? Our compost heaps -- all four of them -- are brimming with yard and kitchen waste. There isn't room for huge additions!
I have an idea: I'll pick up Snowdrop from school (so far so good!)...
... and we'll do a bonfire of seed pods at the farmette!
Ed's agreeable. There isn't much of a breeze. It's a safe day to burn the yard waste that just can't be mulched down.
I wonder how Snowdrop will react to a bonfire: to my knowledge, she has never seen one. Perhaps never even read about one.
We're home! Ed comes out and lights the pile of pods, mixed with dried leaves. Snowdrop's reaction? Just watch:
She wants none of it. At first. It's just too off the wall crazy, no? The snap and crackle of it -- so beautiful to my ears, filled with images of youthful campfires in Poland -- they just seem utterly strange.
But... ah-ah is there. And I'm smiling and admiring its beauty, and slowly, she takes another look.
Realizing that we raked stuff into the blaze, she insists on being part of the team. Here she is, asking Ed -- ah-ah, Snowdrop helps rake? Ah-ah needs help?
Sure, little girl. You sit here and keep an eye on things.
And she does. Fascinated.
For a long while.
Then, for a few more minutes, from another safe vantage point...
Yeah! She has mastered another new experience. She is a happy little girl!
The cheepers take note.
I think the fire discombobulates them somewhat because for no reason, they start a fight. (Henny is always a victim, but this time, so is Java.) Usually, I let them work it out, but today I am annoyed at their bullying tactics. I chase the culprits around a bit just to get them off their pedestal. Ed says I'm disrupting the ways of the hens. I roll my eyes.
The girls settle down in (temporary) harmony.
Snowdrop has a few minutes of quiet play indoors...
... and then she naps.
... Only to wake up to great energy and exuberance. Play in ah-ah and gaga's room!
Bring bagel to ah ah and gaga's room! Eat it! Have gaga take photo in the mirror there!
Of course, her exuberance is shared by all of us.
Now, tomorrow is crucial: I make progress on the Thanksgiving meal or we sink! I'm betting on progress. Always!
But in the end, I'm not on it at all. Instead, I spend a good thirty minutes in the morning studying oven thermometers on Amazon, rejecting them all in the end and accomplishing in that time nothing.
Well, that's okay! It's only Monday!
A sunny and cold day. Perfect for a breakfast in the sun room.
I go out to inspect what needs to be done in the yard (not today, just in the near future) and then Ed joins me and we fall to work and clear the yard of the thousands of seed pots. We didn't intend to do that, we just fell into the rhythm of work. And it is a lovely (if cold) day for it.
But what to do with the piles and piles of seed pods? Our compost heaps -- all four of them -- are brimming with yard and kitchen waste. There isn't room for huge additions!
I have an idea: I'll pick up Snowdrop from school (so far so good!)...
... and we'll do a bonfire of seed pods at the farmette!
Ed's agreeable. There isn't much of a breeze. It's a safe day to burn the yard waste that just can't be mulched down.
I wonder how Snowdrop will react to a bonfire: to my knowledge, she has never seen one. Perhaps never even read about one.
We're home! Ed comes out and lights the pile of pods, mixed with dried leaves. Snowdrop's reaction? Just watch:
She wants none of it. At first. It's just too off the wall crazy, no? The snap and crackle of it -- so beautiful to my ears, filled with images of youthful campfires in Poland -- they just seem utterly strange.
But... ah-ah is there. And I'm smiling and admiring its beauty, and slowly, she takes another look.
Realizing that we raked stuff into the blaze, she insists on being part of the team. Here she is, asking Ed -- ah-ah, Snowdrop helps rake? Ah-ah needs help?
Sure, little girl. You sit here and keep an eye on things.
And she does. Fascinated.
For a long while.
Then, for a few more minutes, from another safe vantage point...
Yeah! She has mastered another new experience. She is a happy little girl!
The cheepers take note.
I think the fire discombobulates them somewhat because for no reason, they start a fight. (Henny is always a victim, but this time, so is Java.) Usually, I let them work it out, but today I am annoyed at their bullying tactics. I chase the culprits around a bit just to get them off their pedestal. Ed says I'm disrupting the ways of the hens. I roll my eyes.
The girls settle down in (temporary) harmony.
Snowdrop has a few minutes of quiet play indoors...
... and then she naps.
... Only to wake up to great energy and exuberance. Play in ah-ah and gaga's room!
Bring bagel to ah ah and gaga's room! Eat it! Have gaga take photo in the mirror there!
Of course, her exuberance is shared by all of us.
Now, tomorrow is crucial: I make progress on the Thanksgiving meal or we sink! I'm betting on progress. Always!
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