She is sleeping over at the farmhouse and she wakes up late, happy, and hungry.
Breakfast number one. Mmm, corn flakes.
Not done yet! Mmm, granola.
It's very cold outside. Barely touching 0F (-18C). I look out the kitchen window: a cat, so orange and fluffy that if she were your pet you'd call her fluffy, walks up the barn path.
Ed!
He's downstairs, looking for his jacket in a flash. Is it a stray cat? Should we feed her?
From Snowdrop: I'm going with him! I want to help!
Jacket over p.j.s, cap, mitts. The cheepers hear the commotion. They think it's all about them of course.
Snowdrop feeds the cheepers, Ed puts out kitty food. But the cat is gone. She was, as the others were, merely passing through.
Bath time, dressing time. It's so cold that I want to see an undershirt underneath her tunic.
Grandma, I don't need the sweater dress. I am very warm like this.
Snowdrop is at that age: she wants a voice in the major decisions affecting her life.
Sometimes you stand back and let her take the lead. At other times, you show her that it's pink and has a penguin who wants to snuggle next to her...
Breakfast number two. With Ed. This one is the big morning meal and it has her favorites these days: scrambled eggs and bacon.
She should be going home, but, well, there are the characters and the stories...
Can I play for one little minute?
(Good grounds for a tease...)
Okay. Let me do the dishes while you play.
I'll help!
Eventually we head back to her house. So cold, so very cold! On the upside (and there is always an upside), we may be getting some snow tonight.
... and we'll build a snow house and a snowman...
... with pine cone eyes and a carrot nose...
It is a quiet afternoon. I resist cleaning, I defer taking care of anything at all. Our family dinner is postponed until tomorrow. I open up my kindle and read.
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