Sunday

It is a quiet day. Wet and quiet -- we wake up to rain. Not the kind that washes away all remaining snow...






...but the kind that forms water droplets on branches of trees.






We eat breakfast in the kitchen, just because. The house is freshly cleaned it seems a happy place to settle in for a morning meal.






The rest of the day? I'm at the kitchen table as well. The tulips keep me company. I read stuff on the computer about photography. (With a break for yoga. The tulips keep me company for that as well.)






I haven't done that -- read about photography -- for a while and if you do not pay attention, the world of camera technology moves in bold new directions and leaves you behind. (I have always been a reluctant learner of new technology and so I give myself time today. Okay, with another pause for coffee and cookie treats, which, I suppose, is the counter pose to yoga.)


By dusk, I focus on preparing supper.

The young family comes and the farmhouse is quiet no more.











What's for dinner, grandma?
Pasta with sun dried tomatoes, garlic and arugula. And parmiggiano reggiano.
Yum!!!!
























One last story for the night...






...and the little girl goes home and I tidy up and get ready for the week that's before us.