There is something unreal always about the first day back from being far away. The clock isn't aligned with your perceptions as to what's what. The cupboards are bare, the farmhouse is crying for a gentle cleaning. You need a few days to come together with your environment.
To add to my feeling of being out of place and out of time, Ed has this week a number of workshops which start early. So that today's breakfast is at 7. That's nearly 3 hours before our usual (we don't rush it).
And finally, there's the weather. Ah, the weather! In Poland, it had acted up, as if in a tantrum. Days that weren't supposed to be wet and cold in Warsaw were just that. Today in Madison? Sunny, with a ridiculously unseasonal high of 70F (that's 21C... 21C!!!).
Here's a flower that's confused and perplexed: my German Iris, reblooming with gusto, as if it were spring.
It's just gorgeous outside!
On my drive to do grocery shopping, I see the early morning mists slather the landscape...
Beautiful!
I'm at the store just after it opens. Everything is on early dial right now. Things will settle down, though not today.
Then I pick up Snowdrop.
She is as the weather is -- exceptionally upbeat.
It's unusual for me to come in at the tail end of her lunch, but things are running late at school and so I do. I watch her eat, then rinse and put away her utensils, plates, glass, wash and dry her hands. It's so impressive! No one prods her or tells her the routines. She does it all flawlessly anyway.
She and I walk to the coffee shop. She is a flurry of words. Hi this, hi that. Repeating everything I tell her.
Snowdrop, do you see the squirrel eating the pumpkin?
Squirrel eats pumpkin! -- she says in utter delight.
Cookie bite on the deck outside the coffee shop...
Oh! It's so beautiful today! November 1st? Really?
Snowdrop is exuberant. I mean, really so.
She goes down to the playground beach and throws fistfuls of sand, as if in a dance.
And now it's time to go home, to the farmhouse.
She's thrilled to see flowers still in bloom.
She runs then to be inside...
And gives her stuffies a hug that's deeper than I'd ever seen before.
She's delighted with her red riding hood from Krakow and her red riding hood bag from Warsaw...
And she loves loves loves her new Polish coloring book!
And the trees outside shine their brilliant gold...
After her nap, Snowdrop delves into a pb&j sandwich...
... and then shows off her confidence in building: this is her tower. I offered no assistance.
When I suggest outdoor play -- she rewards me with perpetual smiles. Here we are -- playing drums with sticks.
... while the lavender blooms and blooms...
And when I suggest we clear the great yard of big seed pods, she is so happy to help, until she discovers the even better activity of racing up and down the path.
... and balancing on the landscape timbers.
So this is our day. My day. Her day. Is it yours? Did you have a brilliant sky? A sun that set you spinning? A chance to soak in the gloriousness of the season?
I hope so.
Ah, but it's incredible to be home on a day when everything is simply perfect.
To add to my feeling of being out of place and out of time, Ed has this week a number of workshops which start early. So that today's breakfast is at 7. That's nearly 3 hours before our usual (we don't rush it).
And finally, there's the weather. Ah, the weather! In Poland, it had acted up, as if in a tantrum. Days that weren't supposed to be wet and cold in Warsaw were just that. Today in Madison? Sunny, with a ridiculously unseasonal high of 70F (that's 21C... 21C!!!).
Here's a flower that's confused and perplexed: my German Iris, reblooming with gusto, as if it were spring.
It's just gorgeous outside!
On my drive to do grocery shopping, I see the early morning mists slather the landscape...
Beautiful!
I'm at the store just after it opens. Everything is on early dial right now. Things will settle down, though not today.
Then I pick up Snowdrop.
She is as the weather is -- exceptionally upbeat.
It's unusual for me to come in at the tail end of her lunch, but things are running late at school and so I do. I watch her eat, then rinse and put away her utensils, plates, glass, wash and dry her hands. It's so impressive! No one prods her or tells her the routines. She does it all flawlessly anyway.
She and I walk to the coffee shop. She is a flurry of words. Hi this, hi that. Repeating everything I tell her.
Snowdrop, do you see the squirrel eating the pumpkin?
Squirrel eats pumpkin! -- she says in utter delight.
Cookie bite on the deck outside the coffee shop...
Oh! It's so beautiful today! November 1st? Really?
Snowdrop is exuberant. I mean, really so.
She goes down to the playground beach and throws fistfuls of sand, as if in a dance.
And now it's time to go home, to the farmhouse.
She's thrilled to see flowers still in bloom.
She runs then to be inside...
And gives her stuffies a hug that's deeper than I'd ever seen before.
She's delighted with her red riding hood from Krakow and her red riding hood bag from Warsaw...
And she loves loves loves her new Polish coloring book!
And the trees outside shine their brilliant gold...
After her nap, Snowdrop delves into a pb&j sandwich...
... and then shows off her confidence in building: this is her tower. I offered no assistance.
When I suggest outdoor play -- she rewards me with perpetual smiles. Here we are -- playing drums with sticks.
... while the lavender blooms and blooms...
And when I suggest we clear the great yard of big seed pods, she is so happy to help, until she discovers the even better activity of racing up and down the path.
... and balancing on the landscape timbers.
So this is our day. My day. Her day. Is it yours? Did you have a brilliant sky? A sun that set you spinning? A chance to soak in the gloriousness of the season?
I hope so.
Ah, but it's incredible to be home on a day when everything is simply perfect.
