So far so good. We're on schedule for a warmup. And today, by late afternoon, we actually break the freezing point (just by one or two degrees, but that's more than a dozen degrees better than yesterday)! And the sun! Oh, that sunshine!
Breakfast in the sun room and yes, Ed is in shorts.
The cheepers are thrilled to find solid ground once more.
Before picking up Snowdrop, I go to the bakery (Madison Sourdough) and though I am not French in my buying habits (I buy Snowdrop's croissants for two and sometimes even three days in advance. Shh! Don't tell anyone!), I am by now a familiar face. Today the breads look especially lovely and though I do not buy any, a photo is warranted.
I swing by the lesser lake just to see the state of the ice cover. Yes, there's a crust, but it's obviously nothing to worry about. It will surely disappear by the weekend. For now, one can admire the lovely patterns it creates on the water.
Okay: Snowdrop time. There isn't a doubt in the little girl's mind that this is adventure weather! And I am so buoyed by the upswing in the temperatures that I brazenly tell her to leave her snow pants behind. I am convinced we are done with them for this school year!
But we do not stay out long. If you walk with your balk to the sun, it doesn't feel at all like spring. We must be patient: tomorrow we'll be out of this arctic territory. We'll save the longer walks for the months ahead.
At the farmhouse, Snowdrop settles in to play. I pull back her hair to keep it off her face and she delights in swinging her pony tail so that it slaps her on the face.
Ed has a work meeting later in the afternoon and so he makes a point of coming over now. She would miss him if he didn't show up for at least a few minutes of play.
I thought she'd go right to her tea set -- feeding him cakes and tea is still very much a favorite these days -- and she does head that way (so much sunshine!)...
... but then she remembers that the other day, Ed showed her a youtube clip of polka dancing.
Want to play polka music ahah? -- she asks him. That's my (partly) Polish granddaughter!
They go at it together. (Ed asks -- what are the steps to this thing? I have to laugh. It's not as if he is a dancer at heart! Could he really pull off a polka?)
Snowdrop notices he is barefoot. Off come her socks.
Little one, he's putting his socks on to go out now.
She is unconvinced. They both continue to dance, socks in hand.
And so now we look forward. To the good days. The warm days (or at least warmer days).
(Except for Snowdrop. She doesn't look forward. She just likes whatever is before her. In the array of stuff, she finds her own essentials to happiness.)
There is a children's book about the coming of spring where Kevin Henkes, the author (and our local famous writer), notes that toward the end of spring we all can't wait for summer, but I don't agree with that. I think for people living in Wisconsin, the most joyous transition happens now -- when the snow finally melts and the flowers start to show their long hidden faces. Surely this change toward spring is nothing short of magical. It's worth living in the north just to experience it.
Breakfast in the sun room and yes, Ed is in shorts.
The cheepers are thrilled to find solid ground once more.
Before picking up Snowdrop, I go to the bakery (Madison Sourdough) and though I am not French in my buying habits (I buy Snowdrop's croissants for two and sometimes even three days in advance. Shh! Don't tell anyone!), I am by now a familiar face. Today the breads look especially lovely and though I do not buy any, a photo is warranted.
I swing by the lesser lake just to see the state of the ice cover. Yes, there's a crust, but it's obviously nothing to worry about. It will surely disappear by the weekend. For now, one can admire the lovely patterns it creates on the water.
Okay: Snowdrop time. There isn't a doubt in the little girl's mind that this is adventure weather! And I am so buoyed by the upswing in the temperatures that I brazenly tell her to leave her snow pants behind. I am convinced we are done with them for this school year!
But we do not stay out long. If you walk with your balk to the sun, it doesn't feel at all like spring. We must be patient: tomorrow we'll be out of this arctic territory. We'll save the longer walks for the months ahead.
At the farmhouse, Snowdrop settles in to play. I pull back her hair to keep it off her face and she delights in swinging her pony tail so that it slaps her on the face.
(She insists on doing the sweeping after I bring out the dust pan to pick up croissant crumbs.)
Ed has a work meeting later in the afternoon and so he makes a point of coming over now. She would miss him if he didn't show up for at least a few minutes of play.
I thought she'd go right to her tea set -- feeding him cakes and tea is still very much a favorite these days -- and she does head that way (so much sunshine!)...
... but then she remembers that the other day, Ed showed her a youtube clip of polka dancing.
Want to play polka music ahah? -- she asks him. That's my (partly) Polish granddaughter!
They go at it together. (Ed asks -- what are the steps to this thing? I have to laugh. It's not as if he is a dancer at heart! Could he really pull off a polka?)
Snowdrop notices he is barefoot. Off come her socks.
Little one, he's putting his socks on to go out now.
She is unconvinced. They both continue to dance, socks in hand.
And so now we look forward. To the good days. The warm days (or at least warmer days).
(Except for Snowdrop. She doesn't look forward. She just likes whatever is before her. In the array of stuff, she finds her own essentials to happiness.)
There is a children's book about the coming of spring where Kevin Henkes, the author (and our local famous writer), notes that toward the end of spring we all can't wait for summer, but I don't agree with that. I think for people living in Wisconsin, the most joyous transition happens now -- when the snow finally melts and the flowers start to show their long hidden faces. Surely this change toward spring is nothing short of magical. It's worth living in the north just to experience it.
