A small twist in a day and suddenly, everything is different, novel, clever!
A simple thing (on this cold and gray March day): Snowdrop's school is closed for parent teacher conferences. I flip my time with her: from second half of day at the farmhouse, to the first half of day at her house.
I wake up and get going. Really early (for me) and really fast (for me)!
Breakfast! Hurry, Ed! Hurry hurry hurry!!
Ed: I'm not in a hurry...
At Snowdrop's home. On time. Phew! Parents go off to their conference with the teachers (the girl is doing great!), then to work. Snowdrop and I play rockets and trucks until she tells me: the trucks are too loud.
She settles into fixing the roof of her play house with a wrench and screws. That sounds ambitious, no? I put her up to it.
And then I say the magic words: do you want to go out to a special lunch with me? In a restaurant?
You'll think the magic word is "lunch" or "restaurant," but no: it's "go out!"
She states her preferences: we should go out to a bakery where she can have a croissant. Well fine with me! She is a cheap lunch date!
We go to Madison Sourdough. (In the parking lot, she encounters urban art.)
At the bakery/cafe, I order for her both the croissant and a grilled cheese sandwich with fruit. She eats both. (I set up the camera for a time release.)
Another patron offers to take our photo. Sure! I mean, how often do I get to take Snowdrop out to lunch! A cheap lunch at that!
We go for a short walk after and she is my best companion, admiring everything, describing it all, asking questions, pointing to our reflection in the glass displays...
Okay, back to the artsy parking lot...
Then home. Her home.
She is full of energy! As the cats watch, we dance!
Afternoon. It's surely past her nap time. Never mind. Her parents come home, she settles down, I retreat...
Not a big switch in the scheme of things, but it's one that has me thinking: do I take for granted all that is handed to me each day, because it follows a similar pattern? Do we all do that? A tiny change and I see the beauty of my day, all in a new light. Or at least a new shade.
I love my routines, my patterns. I prefer knowing what I'll be doing tomorrow and the next day. But I guess I like an occasional shake up too. We all need it: a chance to see something afresh. A chance to delight in something as if we were tasting it for the very first time.
A simple thing (on this cold and gray March day): Snowdrop's school is closed for parent teacher conferences. I flip my time with her: from second half of day at the farmhouse, to the first half of day at her house.
I wake up and get going. Really early (for me) and really fast (for me)!
Breakfast! Hurry, Ed! Hurry hurry hurry!!
Ed: I'm not in a hurry...
At Snowdrop's home. On time. Phew! Parents go off to their conference with the teachers (the girl is doing great!), then to work. Snowdrop and I play rockets and trucks until she tells me: the trucks are too loud.
She settles into fixing the roof of her play house with a wrench and screws. That sounds ambitious, no? I put her up to it.
And then I say the magic words: do you want to go out to a special lunch with me? In a restaurant?
You'll think the magic word is "lunch" or "restaurant," but no: it's "go out!"
She states her preferences: we should go out to a bakery where she can have a croissant. Well fine with me! She is a cheap lunch date!
We go to Madison Sourdough. (In the parking lot, she encounters urban art.)
At the bakery/cafe, I order for her both the croissant and a grilled cheese sandwich with fruit. She eats both. (I set up the camera for a time release.)
Another patron offers to take our photo. Sure! I mean, how often do I get to take Snowdrop out to lunch! A cheap lunch at that!
We go for a short walk after and she is my best companion, admiring everything, describing it all, asking questions, pointing to our reflection in the glass displays...
Okay, back to the artsy parking lot...
Then home. Her home.
She is full of energy! As the cats watch, we dance!
Afternoon. It's surely past her nap time. Never mind. Her parents come home, she settles down, I retreat...
Not a big switch in the scheme of things, but it's one that has me thinking: do I take for granted all that is handed to me each day, because it follows a similar pattern? Do we all do that? A tiny change and I see the beauty of my day, all in a new light. Or at least a new shade.
I love my routines, my patterns. I prefer knowing what I'll be doing tomorrow and the next day. But I guess I like an occasional shake up too. We all need it: a chance to see something afresh. A chance to delight in something as if we were tasting it for the very first time.
