So what did you do today?? -- my daughters will ask me. Their lives are so busy, so full. I think my typical Sunday must look completely tame by comparison. (That's a nice way of saying boring.)
Well, so be it. Sundays are meant to be quiet days. My day today was quiet.
(Morning farmette walk...)
(So obviously autumn...)
(The surprise day lily...)
(Breakfast!)
In the afternoon we do what was once so typical for us, but what had to give because of the demands of this summer: Ed and I play frisbee golf, among prairie flowers and grasses of early fall.
Ed is still walking about barefoot. I admire that. He tells me it would take only a week to toughen my feet. I look at the thistle in the prairie fields -- nah. I'll keep my shoes on.
(So beautiful!)
(Selfie!)
In the evening, the young family is here for dinner. I tell Snowdrop we have to pick nasturtium for the salad. She is happy to help!
Sparrow, who is just 3.5 months, is too young to offer credible assistance.
It's warm enough to eat dinner on the porch. Oh, we will miss this lovely place to gather in the months to come!
(Snowdrop demonstrates a pout. She wants to show us how a little girl might feel when told she has to wait for dessert.)
And what am I offering for an after dinner sweet? Treats from my Polish friends: cookies with cherries, exquisite chocolates...
The pout doesn't last long.
Sparrow takes it in, from the lap of the big guy.
So, a quiet day, don't you think? Wonderfully uneventful. Yeah.
Well, so be it. Sundays are meant to be quiet days. My day today was quiet.
(Morning farmette walk...)
(So obviously autumn...)
(The surprise day lily...)
(Breakfast!)
In the afternoon we do what was once so typical for us, but what had to give because of the demands of this summer: Ed and I play frisbee golf, among prairie flowers and grasses of early fall.
Ed is still walking about barefoot. I admire that. He tells me it would take only a week to toughen my feet. I look at the thistle in the prairie fields -- nah. I'll keep my shoes on.
(So beautiful!)
(Selfie!)
In the evening, the young family is here for dinner. I tell Snowdrop we have to pick nasturtium for the salad. She is happy to help!
Sparrow, who is just 3.5 months, is too young to offer credible assistance.
It's warm enough to eat dinner on the porch. Oh, we will miss this lovely place to gather in the months to come!
(Snowdrop demonstrates a pout. She wants to show us how a little girl might feel when told she has to wait for dessert.)
And what am I offering for an after dinner sweet? Treats from my Polish friends: cookies with cherries, exquisite chocolates...
The pout doesn't last long.
Sparrow takes it in, from the lap of the big guy.
So, a quiet day, don't you think? Wonderfully uneventful. Yeah.
Oh, what a lovely post. Each experience a small gem. One has to observe, to be open to the sensory experiences, to really listen to the children... not everyone is able to take the time. That must be why these are called “the golden years”. I love that you feel and share that appreciation every day.
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