Chaos in the media, chaos in the skies along the eastern coast, chaos here, too.
Interspersed (at least at the farmhouse) with periods of beautiful calm.
It's a glorious day outside -- one that invites outdoor work or play. But Ed and I sleep in, both tired from a week of too little down time.
We switch to our winter (would you believe it -- winter!) breakfast routine, taking the meal this time in the sun room.
And then we play a game of tennis. It is beyond heavenly! The tall white pines around the court are shedding some of their needles and some would complain that it makes the court rather tricky to navigate, but the scent is sublime and our game -- not practiced much this summer -- is grand.
And now we're in for a bit of chaos. Snowdrop is to spend the day and night at the farmhouse: one parent is going to a conference, the other is returning, but since comings and goings can be tough on a little one, I offer to have the girl with me during these transitions.
Except that as I go to pick her up, I see that she is more than sniffly. She is completely under the weather. Sort of like in Paris only worse.
Well, never mind. All the more reason to bring her to the farmette and to nurse her through the next bug.
Our wonderful crab apples welcome us home.
Initially, I thought I'd post no photos of the afternoon. You don't take photos of a sick babe. But kids are funny that way: one minute they seem like they're months away from being well and then next, they show signs of spark:
You put on a record, they want to dance (with cow)...
I'm especially buoyed when I go to the kitchen to start supper preparation and she follows. (What you're doin' grandma?)
I had wanted to make pizza. Should I proceed? She's not in an eating mode...
Sauce!
You want some?
Yes, eat sauce.
She tries, poor little one, she really tries.
And I am heartened when she makes her way to the sun room. This is where she loves to sit, so long as Ed and I are also there, sitting with her.
But with sick little ones, one minute they're up, the next, they just have to fold.
Snowdrop and I end the day with a lot of books. A lot of books.
And when I need a pause, she turns to Ed...
The night is calm. She is asleep. Ed and I are watching the end of a movie I thought I'd never agree to watch with him ("Martian"). Life is full of its funny twists and turns.
Interspersed (at least at the farmhouse) with periods of beautiful calm.
It's a glorious day outside -- one that invites outdoor work or play. But Ed and I sleep in, both tired from a week of too little down time.
We switch to our winter (would you believe it -- winter!) breakfast routine, taking the meal this time in the sun room.
And then we play a game of tennis. It is beyond heavenly! The tall white pines around the court are shedding some of their needles and some would complain that it makes the court rather tricky to navigate, but the scent is sublime and our game -- not practiced much this summer -- is grand.
And now we're in for a bit of chaos. Snowdrop is to spend the day and night at the farmhouse: one parent is going to a conference, the other is returning, but since comings and goings can be tough on a little one, I offer to have the girl with me during these transitions.
Except that as I go to pick her up, I see that she is more than sniffly. She is completely under the weather. Sort of like in Paris only worse.
Well, never mind. All the more reason to bring her to the farmette and to nurse her through the next bug.
Our wonderful crab apples welcome us home.
Initially, I thought I'd post no photos of the afternoon. You don't take photos of a sick babe. But kids are funny that way: one minute they seem like they're months away from being well and then next, they show signs of spark:
You put on a record, they want to dance (with cow)...
I'm especially buoyed when I go to the kitchen to start supper preparation and she follows. (What you're doin' grandma?)
I had wanted to make pizza. Should I proceed? She's not in an eating mode...
Sauce!
You want some?
Yes, eat sauce.
She tries, poor little one, she really tries.
And I am heartened when she makes her way to the sun room. This is where she loves to sit, so long as Ed and I are also there, sitting with her.
But with sick little ones, one minute they're up, the next, they just have to fold.
Snowdrop and I end the day with a lot of books. A lot of books.
And when I need a pause, she turns to Ed...
The night is calm. She is asleep. Ed and I are watching the end of a movie I thought I'd never agree to watch with him ("Martian"). Life is full of its funny twists and turns.
