I'll give you the closing line first: despite the obvious hurdles, it was a beautiful day -- maybe because it was so obvious that it could have turned sour at any turn. But it didn't turn sour. Not in the slightest.
Let me sit back and reflect on why.
To begin with the delineation of hiccups, it was cold. I knew that this was the day that would test our spring rhapsody, but still, you have to be disappointed when you wake up to temperatures that are more than twenty degrees below what we had yesterday, and that stay more than twenty degrees below what we had yesterday.
(A wet and disappointed daffodil...)
By now, Ed, too, has succumbed to the sniffles and he asked for the one medicine that he believes is necessary for a cold -- chicken noodle soup. I obliged. (The flower vase is filled with daffodils that I had to cut down because the cheepers had leveled them...)
Since Ed is more under the weather than I am, I volunteer to clean the coop and set things straight for the cheepers.
I am amused to run into this rather adorable cheeper conflict: Henny is roosting (as these days is her habit) on a bale of hay. Java decides she wants to lay an egg too. She climbs all over Henny and at one moment, I was sure she will suffocate the little brown girl, but no: they settle into an amicable moment, though Java wiggles enough to let Henny know that she does not have the most comfortable place on the hay, but is making do.
(Looking toward the farmhouse -- do you see how lovely it appears now that its framed in so much more than winter brown?)
Snowdrop was at her sniffly-sickest this morning -- not easy for her mommy who, herself is still working through whatever bug or virus is raging here right now. We debate whether the little girl is up for what she most craves right now -- a long stroller adventure. I mean, it's only 45F (7C) outside and though Snowdrop is not terribly sick, she is also not terribly well.
In the end, we decide it's a go, and never was a decision better made.
(Here she is, begging to go out...)
Snowdrop perks up immediately as we walk through her familiar neighborhood. She asks, rather meekly, if we can go to the playground.
I offer her the zoo in stead.
She cannot believe her luck! It's a longish hike. We rarely go. Really?? The zoo??
I know I brought her here once in the dead of winter (we drove over), but today, I see that she is older, wiser, and with a better grasp on the reality of viewing the animals who live here. I can tell her: no, the polar bears cannot hurt you through the thick glass -- and she sees that this is the case. She no longer runs away from their imposing presence.
We visit all her beloved animal friends and as we prepare to leave, she asks -- can we go on the merry-go-round?
I thought the answer is surely no. It's midweek. Not a summer midweek, but an April midweek. Cold. Not many people in the park.
But perhaps because it is spring break for schools, the merry-go-round is indeed up and running!
Oh, does the girl love a good spin on a panda!
I mean, she really loves to pieces her carousel ride!
And when it comes to a close, she begs, begs, begs for a ride on the biggest animal -- the lion.
This is what joyous confidence looks like!
On our walk home, we pass an idle fire truck. A fire fighter gets out and presents Snowdrop with a fire hat. The little one is 100% great with politeness, blurting out thank yous and any such words as may be required and yes, I am proud of her, and, too, grateful to the firefighter who thought to save a plastic hat for this random little girl who happened to be passing by.
At home again, it takes her a little bit to settle into her nap and play routines, but it seemed to me that by the time I leave in the evening, things are pretty much back to near normal.
And that makes me so very happy.
Let me sit back and reflect on why.
To begin with the delineation of hiccups, it was cold. I knew that this was the day that would test our spring rhapsody, but still, you have to be disappointed when you wake up to temperatures that are more than twenty degrees below what we had yesterday, and that stay more than twenty degrees below what we had yesterday.
(A wet and disappointed daffodil...)
By now, Ed, too, has succumbed to the sniffles and he asked for the one medicine that he believes is necessary for a cold -- chicken noodle soup. I obliged. (The flower vase is filled with daffodils that I had to cut down because the cheepers had leveled them...)
Since Ed is more under the weather than I am, I volunteer to clean the coop and set things straight for the cheepers.
I am amused to run into this rather adorable cheeper conflict: Henny is roosting (as these days is her habit) on a bale of hay. Java decides she wants to lay an egg too. She climbs all over Henny and at one moment, I was sure she will suffocate the little brown girl, but no: they settle into an amicable moment, though Java wiggles enough to let Henny know that she does not have the most comfortable place on the hay, but is making do.
(Looking toward the farmhouse -- do you see how lovely it appears now that its framed in so much more than winter brown?)
Snowdrop was at her sniffly-sickest this morning -- not easy for her mommy who, herself is still working through whatever bug or virus is raging here right now. We debate whether the little girl is up for what she most craves right now -- a long stroller adventure. I mean, it's only 45F (7C) outside and though Snowdrop is not terribly sick, she is also not terribly well.
In the end, we decide it's a go, and never was a decision better made.
(Here she is, begging to go out...)
Snowdrop perks up immediately as we walk through her familiar neighborhood. She asks, rather meekly, if we can go to the playground.
I offer her the zoo in stead.
She cannot believe her luck! It's a longish hike. We rarely go. Really?? The zoo??
I know I brought her here once in the dead of winter (we drove over), but today, I see that she is older, wiser, and with a better grasp on the reality of viewing the animals who live here. I can tell her: no, the polar bears cannot hurt you through the thick glass -- and she sees that this is the case. She no longer runs away from their imposing presence.
We visit all her beloved animal friends and as we prepare to leave, she asks -- can we go on the merry-go-round?
I thought the answer is surely no. It's midweek. Not a summer midweek, but an April midweek. Cold. Not many people in the park.
But perhaps because it is spring break for schools, the merry-go-round is indeed up and running!
Oh, does the girl love a good spin on a panda!
I mean, she really loves to pieces her carousel ride!
And when it comes to a close, she begs, begs, begs for a ride on the biggest animal -- the lion.
This is what joyous confidence looks like!
On our walk home, we pass an idle fire truck. A fire fighter gets out and presents Snowdrop with a fire hat. The little one is 100% great with politeness, blurting out thank yous and any such words as may be required and yes, I am proud of her, and, too, grateful to the firefighter who thought to save a plastic hat for this random little girl who happened to be passing by.
At home again, it takes her a little bit to settle into her nap and play routines, but it seemed to me that by the time I leave in the evening, things are pretty much back to near normal.
And that makes me so very happy.
