If April 1st is April Fools, what's May 1st? When I was a child, it was International Labor Day. Later, I learned of May poles and May baskets. Living now on the farmette, I'm wondering if this day's simple goal is to tease us. A sort of May madness -- not necessarily in a bad way. On the one hand, all those lovely flowers and blooms...
On the other hand, there's the fickle weather. You can't count on a fine day. Or a bad weather day. It's all rather unpredictable.
(Breakfast inside, of course.)
(A robin keeps us company: just outside our windows, in the old orchard blooming so heavily that it looks like there's snow out there!)
And this day is exactly like that. Crazy! Cold, not cold. A bit of blue sky, then stormy gray clouds take hold and the rain comes down. Unpredictable!
But so pretty.
I don't know what to do with Snowdrop after her school time: come straight to the farmhouse? Go for a walk? Will it rain? It looks positively threatening out there!
She settles my dilemmas by clamoring for a walk.
(...and a game of hide and seek!)
But at the farmette, she makes a run for the farmhouse. Smart girl.
If May 1st is a tease, Snowdrop surely picks up on this day's vibes. Push me over, ah ah! (Oh! I do not like this game!)
He does. Again and again.
Okay, you two! Knock it off. Do something less risky please.
Dance with me, ahah!
Wouldn't we all profit from a nap? (That's gaga speak.)
I'll leave you with post nap reflections on hair. Snowdrop finds a small hairbrush in the living room. I have to admit that I keep it there for Ed, and especially for the Ed who comes down to breakfast looking worse than terrible, just before I'm about to photographically commemorate my most revered meal -- breakfast. I use the brush if I can dodge his big hands that seek to push it away.
When Snowdrop asks -- what's that?
I answer, truthfully -- that's ahah's brush.
But of course, this doesn't explain things well enough. She must have concluded that Ed gets to use the brush. It's his to play with! She climbs up on his lap and asks him to please brush her hair.
Now, this is just so funny for me! I swear that, despite our time together, despite the fact that he flirted and flittered through many a girlfriend (well, perhaps not that many!), he has never ever brushed anyone's hair in his life! He's a guy with two brothers and a mother who lived far and on her own until her death -- believe me: no hair brushes ever passed through his large hands.
Until Snowdrop asks him to brush her hair.
But she is a girl with spunk and very quickly, she comes to the conclusion that she, too, is entitled. (And of this I am 100% certain: Ed has never had his hair brushed by a child before.)
The winds rage, the rain comes down. Finicky weather! Can't be trusted! But here, at the farmette, all is just so fine on May 1st. So very fine.
On the other hand, there's the fickle weather. You can't count on a fine day. Or a bad weather day. It's all rather unpredictable.
(Breakfast inside, of course.)
(A robin keeps us company: just outside our windows, in the old orchard blooming so heavily that it looks like there's snow out there!)
And this day is exactly like that. Crazy! Cold, not cold. A bit of blue sky, then stormy gray clouds take hold and the rain comes down. Unpredictable!
But so pretty.
I don't know what to do with Snowdrop after her school time: come straight to the farmhouse? Go for a walk? Will it rain? It looks positively threatening out there!
She settles my dilemmas by clamoring for a walk.
(...and a game of hide and seek!)
But at the farmette, she makes a run for the farmhouse. Smart girl.
If May 1st is a tease, Snowdrop surely picks up on this day's vibes. Push me over, ah ah! (Oh! I do not like this game!)
He does. Again and again.
Okay, you two! Knock it off. Do something less risky please.
Dance with me, ahah!
Wouldn't we all profit from a nap? (That's gaga speak.)
I'll leave you with post nap reflections on hair. Snowdrop finds a small hairbrush in the living room. I have to admit that I keep it there for Ed, and especially for the Ed who comes down to breakfast looking worse than terrible, just before I'm about to photographically commemorate my most revered meal -- breakfast. I use the brush if I can dodge his big hands that seek to push it away.
When Snowdrop asks -- what's that?
I answer, truthfully -- that's ahah's brush.
But of course, this doesn't explain things well enough. She must have concluded that Ed gets to use the brush. It's his to play with! She climbs up on his lap and asks him to please brush her hair.
Now, this is just so funny for me! I swear that, despite our time together, despite the fact that he flirted and flittered through many a girlfriend (well, perhaps not that many!), he has never ever brushed anyone's hair in his life! He's a guy with two brothers and a mother who lived far and on her own until her death -- believe me: no hair brushes ever passed through his large hands.
Until Snowdrop asks him to brush her hair.
But she is a girl with spunk and very quickly, she comes to the conclusion that she, too, is entitled. (And of this I am 100% certain: Ed has never had his hair brushed by a child before.)
The winds rage, the rain comes down. Finicky weather! Can't be trusted! But here, at the farmette, all is just so fine on May 1st. So very fine.
