Papers and magazines. Where should they go?
Just saying. Surfaces, brimming with stuff!
All this because I nudged Ed to clear the mud room bench of his own piles in anticipation of the holidays. And when I set a deadline and only half the bench was cleared, I dumped the rest out on the porch.
But that wagging finger... and this? by the little TV? Wag, wag, wag... -- it leads me to now attack piles of stuff that I had once believed were essential to my existence. out goes everything!
The farmhouse grows tidier by the minute.
It's a morning for finishing up clearing and cleaning. And ribboning and tagging. And when all that is done, I get really ambitious! I paint the rooms.
(Caught in the act!)
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I should correct that: I do not paint every wall in each and every room. But remember when some two years ago I touched up smudges and cracks and crevices with what turned out to be very glossy paint (even as our walls are matte)? Well, I have been meaning to correct these garish splashes of shine. Today, I finally did it. The smile of success!
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All this of course after a morning visit with the kittens in the barn (still four, still hungry, still eager to eat what I give them) and after eating breakfast with Ed. Let's just showcase the breakfast flowers. Ed himself looks too discombobulated to be included in the photo.
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And in the afternoon, I pick up Snowdrop.
It's a bit of a special day, as her mom cuts out in the late afternoon to join us at the Olbrich Gardens. There, a room has been dedicated to a toy train set up, where two electric trains scoot this way and that, amidst poinsettas and other potted flowers.
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Perhaps as exciting for Snowdrop are the rooms just across the hall, where she can explore the permanent collection of tropical plants.
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When we leave, we are treated to a glorious sunset just across the lake.
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Late into the evening, I linger at Snowdrop's home for a while...
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It's festive, she's festive and so very delighted to have us both there.
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A snuggle with mommy is always in the offering!
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Toward the end of the evening, she shows off her newest delight at home: a few dance steps on the arm rest of an old chair.
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It's not possible not to be charmed by her antics.
I drive home listening to grand seasonal music, smiling all the way.