Yesterday might have been colder, but I wasn't here for the day. I felt the big chill only at night, coming in from the airport. But today I could really feel that Arctic air pounding down on us. I suppose we could call ourselves lucky: the blast never lasts for long. And, too, it most often is accompanied by plenty of sunshine.
And here's a thrill: the timed coop door opener is working beautifully. No more early trudges to the barn to free the hens. (Not that they're so anxious to leave the coop now: they stay huddled inside until they hear one of us coming and then maybe, maybe they deem to step outside. Just in the barn, mind you.)
Because I've just come from the east, I'm up very early. By sunrise, I will have scrubbed the whole house. (And during the winter, I can appreciate that sunrise without stepping outside! How good is that!)
Breakfast!
I can't do an enormous amount of house organization because my suitcase and bag are still in transit. (These days you can watch the progress of missing luggage in real time, as it moves from one place to the next, so that you would occasionally hear me exclaim -- no, driver, don't go up Stoughton Road! Come to the farmette first!) But I do have the weekly grocery shopping to do. On my way out, I encounter farmette visitors.
They are not quickly spooked. Only when I move toward them do they do their famous about face and in big leaps, high tail it into the snowy fields behind us. (High tail indeed!)
And after my grocery run, I pick up Snowdrop!
I tell her that our snowman got a bigger, better nose! Goodbye wimpy baby carrot, hello the real deal!
She's impressed. But we can't stay out and play. It is just too cold.
Once in the house, she is torn between wanting to rediscover favorite toys (it's been a whole week after all!) and wanting the coveted baguette, fresh from the store.
The baguette, prepared with melted cheese by ahah, wins.
And oh, do they wolf it down!
If I had hoped to save some for dinner -- forget it. All gone.
Her hair is getting longer and it gets in her face and I resist saying something like: little French girls have very neatly pulled back hair and instead just work that rubber band in and try to distract her from pulling it right off.
It works for now.
She is a happy girl today! But then, unless she is under the weather (and even then), Snowdrop is always a very happy girl.
In the late afternoon, my suitcase (and bag) arrive! Oh, things are crushed and a bit off in appearance but still, all is as it (more or less) should be. I said to Snowdrop when she woke from her nap that there would be presents.
Oh, I don't mean great gifts of any sort, but small things. Like this book I picked up in Paris about a penguin family Christmas (very anthropomorphic, as these penguins did everything from decorating a tree to baking cookies). You could look at the scenes with a pink rose colored spyglass and she loves that! Holding it very close to her eye...
And, too, admiring a small Eiffel Tower, which at 3 Euros seemed like such a good price for a tower, until you realized that these petite structures are of no real consequence, except to tickle your Paris fancy.
The whole day is a blur of good things.
Dance! Of course, there has to be lots and lots of dance -- Snowdrop is quite adept at working the record player so that it plays her favorite song (Muppets singing Little St Nick) again and again.
(Snowdrop will get anyone to dance with her. Even Ed, who, in my experience, never ever dances.)
In the evening, I ask the young couple to pause for a drink. Snowdrop loves this -- the merger of her most intimate worlds.
(At one point, we turn on the TV to catch the headlines. Fascinating stuff for the somewhat disheveled by now little one...)
I'll end with a photo of her as she discovers my returned suitcases. My daughter comments -- I'll bet anything she grows up to love travel. Well, this would not surprise me!
Tomorrow is the first day of winter. An irrelevant classification! We're in the thick of winter now! So cold outside! And so very warm inside.
And here's a thrill: the timed coop door opener is working beautifully. No more early trudges to the barn to free the hens. (Not that they're so anxious to leave the coop now: they stay huddled inside until they hear one of us coming and then maybe, maybe they deem to step outside. Just in the barn, mind you.)
Because I've just come from the east, I'm up very early. By sunrise, I will have scrubbed the whole house. (And during the winter, I can appreciate that sunrise without stepping outside! How good is that!)
Breakfast!
I can't do an enormous amount of house organization because my suitcase and bag are still in transit. (These days you can watch the progress of missing luggage in real time, as it moves from one place to the next, so that you would occasionally hear me exclaim -- no, driver, don't go up Stoughton Road! Come to the farmette first!) But I do have the weekly grocery shopping to do. On my way out, I encounter farmette visitors.
They are not quickly spooked. Only when I move toward them do they do their famous about face and in big leaps, high tail it into the snowy fields behind us. (High tail indeed!)
And after my grocery run, I pick up Snowdrop!
I tell her that our snowman got a bigger, better nose! Goodbye wimpy baby carrot, hello the real deal!
She's impressed. But we can't stay out and play. It is just too cold.
Once in the house, she is torn between wanting to rediscover favorite toys (it's been a whole week after all!) and wanting the coveted baguette, fresh from the store.
The baguette, prepared with melted cheese by ahah, wins.
And oh, do they wolf it down!
If I had hoped to save some for dinner -- forget it. All gone.
Her hair is getting longer and it gets in her face and I resist saying something like: little French girls have very neatly pulled back hair and instead just work that rubber band in and try to distract her from pulling it right off.
It works for now.
She is a happy girl today! But then, unless she is under the weather (and even then), Snowdrop is always a very happy girl.
In the late afternoon, my suitcase (and bag) arrive! Oh, things are crushed and a bit off in appearance but still, all is as it (more or less) should be. I said to Snowdrop when she woke from her nap that there would be presents.
Oh, I don't mean great gifts of any sort, but small things. Like this book I picked up in Paris about a penguin family Christmas (very anthropomorphic, as these penguins did everything from decorating a tree to baking cookies). You could look at the scenes with a pink rose colored spyglass and she loves that! Holding it very close to her eye...
And, too, admiring a small Eiffel Tower, which at 3 Euros seemed like such a good price for a tower, until you realized that these petite structures are of no real consequence, except to tickle your Paris fancy.
The whole day is a blur of good things.
Dance! Of course, there has to be lots and lots of dance -- Snowdrop is quite adept at working the record player so that it plays her favorite song (Muppets singing Little St Nick) again and again.
(Snowdrop will get anyone to dance with her. Even Ed, who, in my experience, never ever dances.)
In the evening, I ask the young couple to pause for a drink. Snowdrop loves this -- the merger of her most intimate worlds.
(At one point, we turn on the TV to catch the headlines. Fascinating stuff for the somewhat disheveled by now little one...)
I'll end with a photo of her as she discovers my returned suitcases. My daughter comments -- I'll bet anything she grows up to love travel. Well, this would not surprise me!
Tomorrow is the first day of winter. An irrelevant classification! We're in the thick of winter now! So cold outside! And so very warm inside.
