Monday

As I write this, snow, wet and heavy, is creating near whiteout conditions outside. Ed and I are watching a string of documentaries on the fate of Poles who were transported to Siberia in the first years of World War II. It's one of those evenings where there is little room for a big guffaw.

But, you have to climb out of your comfy quilt every now and then. You have to go back in time and revisit events that you once would not have believed were real, even as now, history reveals them to be very real indeed. So we watch and listen.

All this follows a very delightful day. Oh, the weather is colder, grayer, more winter than spring, more menacing than, say, yesterday or the day before. But, it's March after all.

Breakfast is flower-filled.





And after, Ed and I stay put. In the farmhouse, discussing chickens and retreating to our own work projects.

When the time comes to pick up Snowdrop, the wind kicks up and little squalls of ice and icy flakes spatter down from all directions. We hurry inside, bracing against the cold.






It is a day for books...






... for games, for stories...






many stories...





And because there is no chance at all for outside pay, I succumb to her pleadings and take out a pink box (it's pink grandma, it's pink!) full of new older-kid legos. We spend a good hour on assembly. Her patience with the tiny pieces is remarkable!

But inevitably she returns to her stories. And today, Ed is part of her set up.






Her game. Her pretend world of good and bad events, rolled into one long tale of horror and delight.

And after she leaves, driving off into the swirling mass of wind and snow and ice, I reheat the leftovers and Ed and I go through one documentary clip after the next and the one after.

I do hope this cold snap moves on with great speed. We are really, really hungry for spring!