Friday

Early, oh so early. Why not sleep in? I'm retired. Sleeping in is what you do when you're retired.

Too much to do. Clock still set to Europe. Ed is restless. All good reasons to be wide awake.

Breakfast. Unusual, because Ed says -- okay, I'll eat something more than just a bowl of fruit. And, too, it's all early. He has work, I have stuff to do.






Food shopping. I go to my favorite grocery store and ask: can I reserve a bunch of endive for Christmas? I got a very quizzical look on that one, but hey, I want to braise endive and the availability of this beloved (by me) veggie is typically sketchy.

Afternoon: time to pick up Snowdrop. I enter the classroom. Everywhere there are little tykes sleeping and there's Snowdrop, parading up and down the room in bare feet, a little bit at loose ends.  Another no nap day for her. She must be so tired. Snowdrop is a girl who needs lots of sleep to keep those sails billowing forward.

Well, okay. We will keep to a tame schedule. 

(No coat again. By choice. Hey, it's 31F! -- just a tiny bit below freezing!)





At the farmhouse now. We have left school but now we are playing school. Her babies are the students. I think I am, in her mind, that too. This is music class. Snowdrop has a nice, strong voice!






Yes she does!






And a good bang, with her entire soul into it.






As always, the holidays just sort of creep up on us. Quickly, magically.






I think about this as Snowdrop leaves, the restaurant up the highway delivers sushi and Ed comes back from a day at work. The day is aglow. Preholiday, December, Friday at the farmette aglow.