I blame January

An Ocean reader sent a comment after yesterday's post. The gist of it is this -- what about the porch??

You recall I had been speculating about how little of what is in the farmhouse is here because Ed would have willed it to be here. Most of the things were purchased by me, for me, or brought here from my former life. Perhaps that was Ed's thought when he recently looked around and sighed. His stuff was in the sheep shed. He wasn't spending much time in the sheep shed.

This led to reflections (both his and mine) on how our life together has evolved. I'm not sure that this is a worthwhile project, but January seems to be the chosen month for state of the union speeches and so we found ourselves suddenly and quite unexpectedly in the thick of such an analysis.

I do blame January. In the kinder seasons, Ed and I are too busy doing things outdoors, together, to think much about where or why we're doing them. We work the land. We built the porch! We rip out weeds and plant tomatoes. We extend flower beds. All that belongs to neither him not me -- it is ours.

And despite its furnishings, toys, and kitchen paraphernalia, so is the farmhouse. We created a life in it and around it and so it is ours. Glass roofed porch (his project, our labor) and all. He for me, I for him, and so it's all rather irrelevant as to whose it is, or who is most pleased or bothered by the final outcome. We try for success. So often we succeed. Sometimes we don't quite get it right. But, that's what projects are -- they are adventures. Our days at the farmette are one very raucous, spirited whirligig of an adventure.



Today the melt began again. A few degrees above freezing, wisps of lovely sunshine and the light layer of snow begins to disappear.

(The cheepers are puzzled by yesterday's addition of the snowman. They dance around him,  peck out his black olive eyes and move on.)








Breakfast: at the kitchen table again.






Ed suggests a walk. Actually, he suggests many things: why don't we do yoga? why don't we hike? should we go out for dinner?  Do you want to go away for the weekend?

I agree to the walk. It really is such a lovely day! We haven't much time, but that's okay - this is when the trails are most slippery -- we'll only hike so far. At our favorite of all places -- the Brooklyn Wildlife Ice Age trail.






You know, the one through the forest...






And looping around to this most gorgeous (in our opinion) view.






Selfie!






And back to the woods.






Driving home, Ed proposes a stop at the chocolate shop. It's been a while. Yes, that would be so fine! How many? -- the clerk asks. I go big: 25!
I want to do Ed a favor. We eat these chocolates at the rate of one a day (we always split them in two and we never eat more than that half each). With twenty-five, that'll take us past February 14th. Consider this then your Valentine's Day gift for me! You need do nothing else!
Nothing else?
Well, a card, if you so choose...






And now it's time for me to pick up Snowdrop.

She is in a fantastic mood! All smiles, all the time.






(Cookie thief!)






Most of her time today is spent on playing school with her babies and Ed and me. It is totally incomprehensible to me why she decides that I should be the kid and he should join her as a teacher (Snowdrop is obviously the master teacher: she gives detailed instructions on how he should proceed)...






So be it. Perhaps I'm more of a handful.






Ed nearly always does whatever she asks him to do.






One last photo -- of her leading us in a circle song -- the more we get together. It was very sweet to hear his deep voice and her gentle one singing the same words...





The more we get together, together, together
The more we get together the happier we'll be!