The job of thoroughly spiffing up the farmhouse is never really enormous because the farmhouse isn't enormous. Two bedrooms, one bathroom. I mean, please. By American standards that's small.
But two things conspired to make me want to not miss a single dusty corner: I'd been away and so there is a backlog of cleaning that needs to be done, and secondly, I am hosting a rather big dinner crowd this coming Tuesday (Ed's work friends and visitors and partners and various sundry others) and so I may as well get things in order now.
So we cleaned the house. Typically I shoo Ed away from partnership in this endeavor but today I took all the help I could get. We worked our tails off. All morning long.
Breakfast. Very late. Very very late. (Ed, attempting to hide from the camera.)
Right after the noon hour, the following back and forth began:
do you want to go skiing?
Sure, just not right now.
(a bit later)
Are we ready to ski?
What do you think?
It's really gray outside.
(a bit later)
So should we go out or not?
So much ice! It wont be fun!
I agree.
We went round like this for several hours until finally, one of us, I can't remember which one, finally said -- let's go.
I can't say it was the best run we've ever had. It was gray. It was icy. And we followed one of our least favorite local trails (but one that we knew would have some snow).
Perhaps the loveliest moment came when a flock of geese took off from the unfrozen creek. (And I am not even a huge fan of all the geese that have set up year round residence in Madison. They're mean.)
Still, it was a well spent hour. I really hope it's not the last skiing moment we'll have this winter.
It's Sunday and so Snowdrop and her family eat dinner with us at the farmhouse. Oh, oops! Not "with us." Ed is away at a dinner with his week-long work visitors. So just with me.
Perhaps predictably, Snowdrop goes to her tea party table...
She wants us to play with her, but we're hanging in the kitchen. Solution: bring the tea party to the kitchen! Snowdrop is right on it!
Gaga, you sit there!
Ah, an evening with Snowdrop, being her lovely spunky self...
... An evening that turns colorful and bright. Like the twinkly lights outside, only better.
But two things conspired to make me want to not miss a single dusty corner: I'd been away and so there is a backlog of cleaning that needs to be done, and secondly, I am hosting a rather big dinner crowd this coming Tuesday (Ed's work friends and visitors and partners and various sundry others) and so I may as well get things in order now.
So we cleaned the house. Typically I shoo Ed away from partnership in this endeavor but today I took all the help I could get. We worked our tails off. All morning long.
Breakfast. Very late. Very very late. (Ed, attempting to hide from the camera.)
Right after the noon hour, the following back and forth began:
do you want to go skiing?
Sure, just not right now.
(a bit later)
Are we ready to ski?
What do you think?
It's really gray outside.
(a bit later)
So should we go out or not?
So much ice! It wont be fun!
I agree.
We went round like this for several hours until finally, one of us, I can't remember which one, finally said -- let's go.
I can't say it was the best run we've ever had. It was gray. It was icy. And we followed one of our least favorite local trails (but one that we knew would have some snow).
Perhaps the loveliest moment came when a flock of geese took off from the unfrozen creek. (And I am not even a huge fan of all the geese that have set up year round residence in Madison. They're mean.)
Still, it was a well spent hour. I really hope it's not the last skiing moment we'll have this winter.
It's Sunday and so Snowdrop and her family eat dinner with us at the farmhouse. Oh, oops! Not "with us." Ed is away at a dinner with his week-long work visitors. So just with me.
Perhaps predictably, Snowdrop goes to her tea party table...
She wants us to play with her, but we're hanging in the kitchen. Solution: bring the tea party to the kitchen! Snowdrop is right on it!
Gaga, you sit there!
Ah, an evening with Snowdrop, being her lovely spunky self...
... An evening that turns colorful and bright. Like the twinkly lights outside, only better.
