why does this Friday seem like something other than a regular old Friday?

Some days are so calm and ordinary that you feel like you're merely floating through each hour, exerting no effort, enjoying the gentle breeze that pushes you along.

This is not one of those days. We are moving along alright, just a bit tumultuously! Oh, not where one side is shouting some obscenity and the other is toppling into murky waters and still others are wiping sweat (rightly so) off their collective brow.  Ours is a controlled and not unpleasant chaos. Most assuredly though, this is not a conventional Friday.

Perhaps I ought to put out the two overarching themes of my forthcoming weekend -- each crucial in its own way: first of all, we have record breaking weather here, in south central Wisconsin: with a high of 58F today (14.5C), it feels more like May than the middle of February. So sunny! So fantastic! So weird!

Secondly, for a number of reasons, Snowdrop is spending the weekend with us at the farmhouse. And so quite obviously, everything is going to be a bit topsy turvy, as she will be setting my agenda for the next few days.

Oh, but these are just the basic parameters. There is so much more before us!

But breakfast is deceptively calm. A bit rushed, as Ed has his tech meetings and I have my weekly grocery shopping to attend to, but nevertheless calm.





And then he is off and I am off, but here come the twists and turns. First, after many hesitations, negotiations, considerations, we have decided to rent that skid steer loader (basically a machine that you use for digging and hauling), crossing our fingers that Ed can haul that thing home from the bobcat rental place behind his truck. If he never arrives, I'll know that he got stuck somewhere and can't get home.

And here's another twist: when I pick up Snowdrop at school, I see that she is diaper-free and sitting on the potty. Well now, isn't it lucky that we have before us a warm weekend!

It's as if we were to throw everything into a caldron for the next few days, without any clue as to what might emerge at the end of it all.


I cannot resist taking Snowdrop on a short walk after school. So sunny! So very pleasant! (And yes, there is another unusual element -- the kids had pajama day at school and so she is, in fact in her piggy and elephant pj's.)

She begs for a snack and so we pause briefly (believe me, very briefly) at the coffee shop and since it is really so pleasant outside, we take our snack out to the patio. But Snowdrop is really eager to get up and get going. The playground is right there, within eyesight...






That's fine. We can check it out.

It's not entirely operational. Puddles, melting ice -- the tell tale signs of February are still there. Still, she loves climbing the life guard tower...






... a place that offers a fine view onto the melting lesser lake.






A few minutes on the swing...






And then we stroll our way back to the car and come home to the farmette.


A contemplative pose...






A few pieces of fruit...






A playful Snowdrop...






And she naps and Ed comes home tugging that machine with him and it looks like the day will move along smoothly, no?

Not entirely.

The machine makes deep tracks in the muddy soil (much to Ed's dismay).






The trips back and forth, from pile to flower bed are tediously long...






Ed wonders if he should give up and wait until we get a solid frost again that would harden up the soil. Surely we'll have another deep freeze this winter?

("What is ahah doing out there??")






Evening. All is calm again. Snowdrop has us drawing together for long stretches of time...






Therapeutic, no?

Yes, the girl is here and happy and the sun shone brightly on us all!






Perhaps the pace here at the farmette was a bit robust on this day. That's okay. Tomorrow will surely be staid.

Maybe.

Perhaps not.

Fine: most likely it will offer its own great surprises.

We're looking forward to it.