Such beautiful sunshine!
I'll let the photos do the talking today. With temperatures at 63F (17C), we've beat another record. There is no time to sit still and contemplate phrases that best describe the high points. Seize the day! Go out, go out!
After breakfast that is.
(Java: "Seize the day? I seize every day. I just don't lay eggs. I leave that to the others.")
Ed and I bike to vote (primaries today) and we stop at Paul's Cafe to purchase pickles. Like old times (both the biking, and Paul's, and pickles)!
Heading back to the farmette: the clouds of yesterday are no more! (The view is toward the farmette. You can spot our silo.)
Snowdrop, after school, enjoying a cheesy croissant (that gaga purchased at Paul's for her) outside, looking at the lake and trying to decide if it's ice or water. (She tells me: it's water, gaga. But I detect uncertainty.)
Seize the day!
On the playground, watching an older girl work the swings.
I walk home with her, but she wants to stay outside! Her mommy joins us for a walk to another park, where, predictably, Snowdrop runs toward the swings.
I say nap time! She says -- I have to cook dinner. I win.
Of course, I never really win. Snowdrop knows I'm a sucker for her smile and willing to work long and hard to help her find a way out of her pickles.
Which brings me around back to the pickles. Our best in the Midwest pickles are just a few miles up the road. Don't you think that it's fortuitous that Ed and I live so close to something so ridiculously silly that means so much to us?
I'll let the photos do the talking today. With temperatures at 63F (17C), we've beat another record. There is no time to sit still and contemplate phrases that best describe the high points. Seize the day! Go out, go out!
After breakfast that is.
(Java: "Seize the day? I seize every day. I just don't lay eggs. I leave that to the others.")
Ed and I bike to vote (primaries today) and we stop at Paul's Cafe to purchase pickles. Like old times (both the biking, and Paul's, and pickles)!
Heading back to the farmette: the clouds of yesterday are no more! (The view is toward the farmette. You can spot our silo.)
Snowdrop, after school, enjoying a cheesy croissant (that gaga purchased at Paul's for her) outside, looking at the lake and trying to decide if it's ice or water. (She tells me: it's water, gaga. But I detect uncertainty.)
Seize the day!
On the playground, watching an older girl work the swings.
I walk home with her, but she wants to stay outside! Her mommy joins us for a walk to another park, where, predictably, Snowdrop runs toward the swings.
I say nap time! She says -- I have to cook dinner. I win.
Of course, I never really win. Snowdrop knows I'm a sucker for her smile and willing to work long and hard to help her find a way out of her pickles.
Which brings me around back to the pickles. Our best in the Midwest pickles are just a few miles up the road. Don't you think that it's fortuitous that Ed and I live so close to something so ridiculously silly that means so much to us?
