A light dusting of snow lightens the winter landscape. Ed and I would love more than a light dusting, but we're happy to see even this little snow on the farmette land. (The cheepers do not share our enthusiasm for it, but they do sense that I am home again; when I look out the kitchen window, I see them stepping gingerly toward the farmhouse -- something they did not do in the week I was away.)
Here you go, girls -- bread. (Don't they look like they're gossiping?)
Breakfast. Oh, how good it is to sit across the table in this way again!
I ask my daughter if there are any special Snowdrop pick up instructions. No, she tells me, but Snowdrop did ask if I would be there this afternoon and when told I would be, she exclaimed -- "oh my gosh! My grandma is back from Warsaw and Paris!" There is nothing cuter than a two year old who begins her excited sentence with "oh my gosh!"
By the time I head out for her, the snow comes down again. Briefly, thickly, beautifully.
Snowdrop greets me in her best sweet voice: you're back, grandma, you're back!
At the farmhouse, she is excited at the announcement of surprises. Finger puppets from my sister...
Some baby paraphernalia for her dolls...
It all makes her so happy!
We resume our afternoon routines. We play, she plays, we read, she eats... There is nothing unusual about any of it and yet, after a few days' absence, it all feels rather magical!
Snowdrop's mom comes a little earlier, to catch up with me, to read her a story or two (this one obviously had a disconcerting story line)...
Dinner, writing, and that deep craving for sleep that comes from jet lag. I have to smile: I've come to grips with many an inconvenience in my years of travel... I will not give in to jetlag!
Stay awake, Nina, stay awake!
Not gonna happen.
Here you go, girls -- bread. (Don't they look like they're gossiping?)
Breakfast. Oh, how good it is to sit across the table in this way again!
I ask my daughter if there are any special Snowdrop pick up instructions. No, she tells me, but Snowdrop did ask if I would be there this afternoon and when told I would be, she exclaimed -- "oh my gosh! My grandma is back from Warsaw and Paris!" There is nothing cuter than a two year old who begins her excited sentence with "oh my gosh!"
By the time I head out for her, the snow comes down again. Briefly, thickly, beautifully.
Snowdrop greets me in her best sweet voice: you're back, grandma, you're back!
At the farmhouse, she is excited at the announcement of surprises. Finger puppets from my sister...
Some baby paraphernalia for her dolls...
It all makes her so happy!
We resume our afternoon routines. We play, she plays, we read, she eats... There is nothing unusual about any of it and yet, after a few days' absence, it all feels rather magical!
Snowdrop's mom comes a little earlier, to catch up with me, to read her a story or two (this one obviously had a disconcerting story line)...
Dinner, writing, and that deep craving for sleep that comes from jet lag. I have to smile: I've come to grips with many an inconvenience in my years of travel... I will not give in to jetlag!
Stay awake, Nina, stay awake!
Not gonna happen.
