Snowdrop sandwich

The day is colder, grayer, more reminiscent of winter, which, I suppose, is as it should be. We are, after all, still chugging along through the last days of January.

Ed hints that a walk would be nice anyway, but I'm not anxious to be outside. I've designated this day to be a "fill the bags for Goodwill" day -- a cleansing and purging that I'm certain will make me feel only lighter and brighter!

But all that can't be interesting to you. Old books, clothes, papers -- we all have them, we all should periodically work to eliminate a good number of them. This is everyone's story!

More colorful and therefore interesting are the beginning and end to this Sunday. They both are made bubbly and bouncy by the presence of Snowdrop.

She had spent the night here and I have to say, even though I see her daily, being with her in the morning when she wakes up is a special treat. Snowdrop awakens like we all should awaken to a new day -- with enthusiasm!

She starts with a tease, one that she loves: go up to a posted word card and tell me that it says "pink." I protest. I tell her it couldn't be. I tell her I am sure it says apple. Nope, she insists it's "pink." And then she doubles over with laughter.







Her good cheer is with her over a bowl of cornflakes (her choice today for "breakfast-lite").






And it lasts through her bath, and into the "big breakfast," this one with Ed. (I had asked her what she would like and she did not hesitate: scrambled eggs! With bacon? Yes! And fruit? Yes!)






This is when we look outside and notice that it is snowing.






We wont get more than an inch out of this one, but hey, the ground will look that much lighter and brighter. Besides, the flakes are fat and lovely to observe!






After, she plunges into play...






... and into feeding us pretend meals with cakes and who knows what else. She has a very detailed image of how we should consume her generous offerings. She doesn't hesitate to instruct!





Happy girl equals happy farmhouse. It's as simple as that.


The target return home time is 9:30, but we never make it out of here before 11. There is so much to do, especially when there's snow!






Ever the helpful Snowdrop!






Our snow lump (excuse me, snowman) will look a little healthier in the days ahead.

There is one tiny disappointment for the little one: in many books she has seen that children love to catch snowflakes on their tongues. Snowdrop hasn't had many opportunities for this, given are exceedingly dry winter, but this morning she gives it a try. But, the snow is too wimpy and her tongue not large enough. Ah well! I tell her there will be other snowfalls. I've been saying this an awful lot this winter!





On the drive home, she surprises me with her now repeat request to retell the story of the penguin and the purple cookie. I mentioned here, I think, that it was one of my poorest attempts at making up a new tale for her. And yet, for some reason it grabbed her. I've since embellished it, but still, I have to smile at how poor we are sometimes at predicting what a child might love.


And now there is the other half of the Snowdrop sandwich: the Sunday dinner at the farmhouse.






It's a meal that has a lot of Snowdrop favorites and adult favorites (shrimp, pasta, porcini mushrooms, tomatoes, haricots verts...).






It's late by the time we're done with it. Well, late for us. Not for Snowdrop.
I want to take my babies grocery shopping!
Snowdrop!






Still, we linger. There's a lot of good feeling floating around. Why move on...






Well, we all do have to move on. Tomorrow is Monday. It's good to end with a smile, but it's also important to get that good night's rest.

To a grand week ahead!