Ed is late for breakfast (I ask when we should eat, he suggests a good hour and then usually comes down as promised) and I am all set to complain about the cooling down of my coffee and oatmeal, but he flashes that grin just as I take out my camera. I have to smile back!
Afterwards, we set out for the big box store that has the biggest collection of Christmas lights. We are starting anew, but with an idea as to how to proceed: get something that matches the porch lights, use twinkling bulbs by the path and white cords around the door. How's that for knowing one's own mind!
I am sort of hoping we'll find a deer or snowman to add to our outdoor collection of holiday brightness, but it is not to be. We settle on the twinklers and the bright steady glows.
Back at the farmette, Ed begins work on pounding in posts that will anchor the garlands of lights. Me -- I can't help much. It's noon. I need to get Snowdrop...
... who is possibly in the best mood I've ever seen her at pick up. (Later I find out that this is the day of the week her class does yoga. If ever you need me to plug yoga for toddlers, just sound the bell. I have proof of its efficacy -- today.)
Outside, we find the car. And a pile of leaves.
But we don't linger. We head for the farmette, where everything is at once familiar and curious.
"There, gaga, there's ahah's rake!"
Snowdrop, we have things to do! We're putting in winter lights!
At first, she makes me pull out the stroller. She climbs inside and watches.
Not for long. The strings of lights are exciting!
Standing to the side is fine, but soon, she wants to be in the thick of it: "grandpa, can I help bang in the posts?"
"I think I can do it!"
The hammer is heavy. Ed let's her use it anyway...
...but when she wants to do the whole job by herself, he's sure she'll drop the hammer on her toes.
Still, she so wants to do the banging. He lifts her. The banging continues, albeit in a most peculiar fashion.
She would have kept on going like this for a long long tine, but I insist on a nap.
In the late afternoon, I give her a 2 year old puzzle I'd purchased last spring in Paris. You have to match the pieces to create a range of animals. She nails it way too quickly. There isn't even the slightest challenge.
Fine. She's strong in puzzles. But can she shop??
Yes she can. She tells me here she's off to "shop at Target..."
The sun is setting. We go outside, despite the evening chill. She checks the coop with us, she feeds the chickens. And then we walk back to the eastern edge of the farmette.
Tall firs dominate the landscape here...
... but Snowdrop loves the little guys. Baby trees, she calls them, using her most gentle tones.
And then we return inside. The lights are now on.
We've done our holiday duty at the farmhouse.
It's time to look at the moon, time to rest.
