This ridiculous dream has been with me for so long! True, the airplane landing where it's not supposed to (a city street, remote village in Greenland) is a far more frequent nighttime little clip and I got that one last night as well. But what the heck do dreams mean anyway? I used to tell my girls when they recounted in great detail all aspects of their nocturnal vignettes -- Ah, but it means nothing. Old thoughts stuck in your head... Let's move on. (I know, I know, what kind of a mother denies their child the chance to recall a dream?!)
Still, that hotel scene stayed with me today as I woke at sunrise. The good room in a shabby space... the empty dining room... Okay okay, let's move on!
The tracks of Snowdrop's sled are still visible. The early morning light is always so beautiful on a snowy field just as the sun comes up!
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As I let the cheepers out, I ask them - do chickens have dreams?
They cluck and eat bread and then go to their standard hiding spot in the old barn.
... while the sun climbs higher and higher.
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Ed is still sleeping when I come back upstairs. I glance out the bathroom window and think -- I have a project before me. The snow has really piled high on the porch roof, with a hard layer of ice on top. The glass roof isn't in danger of shattering under its weight, but I know we have some freezing drizzle coming later this week and then we're in for a deep chill. And I love the light that a clean roof brings into the kitchen. It's now or never!
And so I spend the next hour or more trying to crack and shovel off most of the icy rooftop snow while maintaining my grip on the slippery beams.
A hot shower followed by a warm breakfast bring life back into my limbs. It had been a tough morning. Thoughts of the mystical Hotel Bauer left with those shovelfuls of icy snow.
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I hurry then to Snowdrop's home, in time to see her parade down still in her jammies. Her birthday is but a memory now. Leftover balloons still appear in various corners of the room, but we are now focused on the year ahead!
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I'm older and wiser too and so I know that I need not bathe the little one before an art class. Quick, put on something that we can get dirty! Go ahead, look at your book for a minute, but then let's go!
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And she is in fact happy to be going.
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And so here we are again in art class, with the same smock, but a different project.
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You got it -- it's all about snowmen today. Here's Snowdrop's rendition (with a lot of grandma's assistance):
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Alright. Time to return home. Past the seemingly frozen small lake...
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... home. Her home. And finally, a bath. Ed laughs that I am so the wrong person to take Snowdrop to a class where she gets very dirty very deliberately. Ah, but then comes the satisfaction of scrubbing it all off! A clean dress and sweater and away she goes!
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With a koala coaster for company.
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A favorite game -- hide and seek. She hides, I search. The finding part causes her to laugh and laugh and of course, when she laughs, the world laughs with her.
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In the afternoon, the little one is full of energy. She covers miles, going from the living room to the kitchen and back again. And again. And again.
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Such intensity in her play! (Are we as intense in stuff we learn as adults?)
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Towards evening, she gets tired. Of course she does. I encourage her to slow down. We read books. Her favorites, again and again and again. And she hugs her penguin. And she rolls and chortles...
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... and only occasionally stretches her arms out begging to be held and comforted.
(You want to see a tired girl? Here you go...)
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Toward the evening, I'm almost ready to leave, but the young couple have asked me to stay for a brief toast to the year gone by.
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Oh, sweet days of winter! Is it really cold outside? I'm not feeling it.