Monday, September 19, 2016

Monday

Breakfast before the storms.


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Then Ed settles in to his work calls and emails and I attend to the irksome details of daily life that tend to surface on Monday mornings.

Snowdrop comes to the farmette after school. Not interested in staying outside. Bike! -- she says. Then runs inside and looks for it.


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Helmet on. Tentative about bike, but who cares! She knows it's here. She eyes it, touches it. That's enough for today.


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Then she asks for music. Dance!

Her feet fly!


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I have been with Ed nearly eleven years and I have never ever gotten him to dance with me. I tell her -- ah ah does not dance.

The next minute, Snowdrop and ah ah are dancing.


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After her nap, I tell her we need to make cookies again.

She is on it!


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Licking the beaters is the baker's sweet reward.


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One last mix...


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Cookies are baking. Snowdrop runs from one room to the next, full of energy and  laughter. Ed comments -- she sure is happy today...


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And now the storms come. There is rain. Thunder. Hail. Lots of hail.

Look, Snowdrop! 


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Of course she wants to go outside.

Let's wait until the rains quiet down. 

We go out at the tail end of the storm. I don't have rain garb for her here, but I find my camping hat and I put it on her -- this will protect you from the worst of it.


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Whoa! The sun is throwing some beams to the west! There should be rainbow! Snowdrop, come run with me! We might catch it!

Oh, do we catch it!


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I'd like to believe that she is overwhelmed. Because I surely am. Red, orange, yellow, green,
 blue, purple...

Pose for a photo, Snowdrop! 
Okay...


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The rains leave big puddles in the driveway.


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The hat has served its purpose. Go ahead, Snowdrop. Play.
Rocks, ga ga.
Yes, rocks.


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She is wet, she is drippy. I run a hot bath for her. She loves it. I can hardly get her out.

We read books, beginning with the one about weather. And rainbows.


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A day may be beautiful for any number of reasons, but this one belongs to Snowdrop: she made the irksome little tidbits of the early hours slide into oblivion. Her energy was our energy. Her grins were ours as well.