(Not that the cheepers are pleased!)
Finally, winter has given us something to admire!
Over breakfast...
... I make my case to Ed: we should get the listed farmhouse table that I discovered and liked yesterday. It's long, yes, but it looks so authentic! And it's not wide! It wont overwhelm!
But I thought you wanted something lighter, brighter! I'm so confused!
I want something that feels right.
And this feels right?
Yes it does.
I just can't believe it! It will crowd the space.
(Pause)
Okay. Forget it then.
No... we should look.
Really?
Yes. I don't like the idea of such a large piece of furniture, but I'm trying to understand what's driving you here. We should look.
Great! He'll meet us there this morning! It's in Cottage Grove. Let's take the truck!
I say this, even as the truck is buried under heavy snow. It has to be cleaned out. It has to be backed out of its precarious position in the corner of our parking ledge. Still, I am convinced that once Ed sees the table, his heart will swell with joy and we'll drive it home, in time for our Sunday dinner tonight!
Ed plows the driveway and works on clearing the truck. I'm excited.
Are you sure you like it? As much as the one in the store?
Yes, I think so. It's different, but...
I'll say it's different! (In Craigslist, it is described as hand crafted from repurposed barn wood. And the photos are stunning!)
And now it is time to back out the truck. The wheels spin and slide and before long, one wheel rolls into the huge groundhog hole and the other dangles precariously over the ledge.
Well, that wreck cant be moved. Certainly not until Ed thinks of a clever way of not getting himself tossed upside down over the ledge, truck and all.
We take the car. We can always hand over a deposit and come back later. Ed has trucker friends! We'll borrow a truck!
And it is a good thing we're not driving the pickup because the roads are treacherous! The hazard light in my car keeps flashing: you're in a slide, you're in a slide! Yes, I do realize that. I'm trying to stay on the road!
We are late. I am apologetic. I look around us: we're at a golf course. In some sort of a storage shed.
The wife wanted the new table in, so I moved this one here.
Okay fine, let's see it.
It's horrible. The wood is not smooth at all. Run your hand over it and you'll walk away with ten splinters. It's a piece of junk.
He must have seen the look of disgust on my face. He is quickly reassuring: This isn't really the one I wanted to show you. The big one is in the club room.
Okay...
We walk to the club room. There is another table there. Presumably also built by him out of "repurposed barn wood."
It's not horrid. Just pretty gross.
We drive across country roads and some forty minutes later, we're home.
But I can't shake the awfulness of those tables. That must have been an exceptionally misleading set of photos on Craigslist. To me, it looked so good!
Ed brings up the ad again. It's not the same table. I can see that the one in the photo doesn't have the row of screws I saw in the ones he showed us. The guy is pulling a fast one. It's a bait and switch. He's scamming.
He tries t o reassure me. You'll find something. And if not, we'll consider something new.
I smile.
In the afternoon, we had signed up to work on building a prairie along a segment of the Ice Age Trail. But I'm thinking -- surely the volunteer event must be cancelled. The snow is significant. The wind is harsh. It's just 11F (-11C) and it feels even colder.
We get a message from the coordinator: we're on! wear warm clothing!
The clouds have moved on, the sun is brilliant. It's beautiful outside!
But oh, is it cold.
We meet the very small group of volunteers and hike up toward the four acre field, soon to be prairie.
The coordinator is happy to have us. We have a wind shield and we've built a fire to keep you warm! Let's get to work!
Ed and I empty seed pods into a big tub.
The seeds are attached to soft, luxurious puffs and when the wind kicks in, several puffs rise into the air and dance away from us.
So delicate! So beautiful.
Our coordinator mixes up bagfuls of various donated seeds. Millions, trillions of seeds! He knows his work well. Rows of footprints mark off segments of the former pasture. We each get a segment.
Off we go, carefully sowing the seeds, making sure that they're evenly dispersed.
Ed comments -- who knew sowing seeds could be hard work...
When we're done, we're offered donated treats from Clasen's Bakery. Someone tells me the morning buns are especially good when toasted over the campfire. I try it.
Ed tries it.
Delicious! But then, pretty much anything would taste exquisite here by the warm fire on this bitter cold day.
(Us, the seed sowers, as taken on a timed release.)
Ed and I do one more segment and then we cut out. I have a dinner to cook and it is dangerously close to evening time!
The young family is at the farmhouse tonight and yes, we'll be eating at the old table. The trusty reliable smooth and bright little table that has stood up to so many family meals!
And yes, Snowdrop. There's time for play!
There's always time for play!
Always.
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