Friday, December 30, 2016


My daughter asks me -- so what are you and Ed doing for New Year's Eve?

She knows we don't like to go out on that day, but she is curious if I have planned a more special evening. And I realize only now, the day before New Year's, that not only haven't I planned a damn thing, but I've mentally relegated the most boring quick fix supper to that evening. Scrambled eggs, some copious amounts of a leftover veggies and a salad.

It's the first time I think in my entire adult life that the event of New Year's Eve has completely passed me by.

True, I'm not a reveler. A dinner party with friends -- yes, I like that. But waiting until the ball drops at midnight? And then have dishes to do after everyone leaves? No, not for me.

(Ed would shake his head here at my compulsive "have everything in order for the new year" preferences, but he knows that this is me and yes, I would like to have everything neatly put away before I breathe in the air of 2017.)

Well, I have a few hours in the afternoon to rethink my plans for tomorrow. But in the meantime, let me roll back to the morning.

In the winter, Snowdrop does not wake at dawn, even with the late sunrise, and even at the farm house. I had thought I'd show her the sunrise through the window...

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... but she slept right through it and then some. The girl needs her winter rest.

But once up, she is excited at the prospect of the three of us eating breakfast together.

("Can't you please get me into the chair already??")

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I don't fix the usual pancakes or waffles that I do when she is our guest. Ed has his Friday meetings to rush off to and so we settle on various combinations of oatmeal, fruit and cereals.

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Snowdrop is in a superb mood -- ready to take on the world!

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But first -- a bath. I'm thinking that one of these days I'll have to address the issue of not having a tub for her at the farmhouse. Thus far, she thinks it's terrifically fun to resort to her baby tub. But in another month, she wont fit into it. Though for today, it serves its purpose and she spends way too long pouring water from one receptacle to the next, while I mop up the numerous splashes that inevitably wet the spaces around the kitchen sink, where I place the tub.

And then we play. With the train.

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With her baby.
("Can't you stand up yet??")

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With toy foods. Which lead her to ask for some real food. Orange segments are perfect.

(She correctly identifies a photo of her mommy when she was very young, but then, understandably, with a confusing mix up of epochs and decades, she says -- that's mommy and Snowdrop! True, the person next to her mommy looks so very much like her, but it is, in fact, her aunt. She stares at the photo for a long long while, in great disbelief. "It's not me? Really? Truly?")

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And then we play her recent favorite -- hide and seek.
("Here I am!")

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And she is in her sweet, gentle mood and so the morning is gone before I even notice that we're quickly moving toward the noon hour.

(We go to the barn to give the cheepers some bread. Snowdrop's expression here says it all -- the hens look awful right now: at least two decided to do their annual feather turnover now. Too, we've given up on them ever producing another egg. The two old girls -- I can understand that. But the two "young" ones? Well, we were clearly duped. They're obviously old as well. So here we are, tending to four old hens without an egg to show for our daily efforts.)

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I return the little girl home, as promised, but I linger for a while and chat to my daughter...

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And I watch Snowdrop run from one room to the next and then round and round again, all the time laughing and spinning incredible tales of intrigue and adventure.

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(A pause to examine the holiday cards that came to their home...)

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And then I hurry to the grocery store and pick up some foods that will complement the scrambled eggs for New Year's Eve.