Wednesday

Each season has its pretty days and its tiresome, dreary days. If you asked me which are the dominant ones, I'd say pretty, for sure.  The Upper Midwest isn't prone to northern Europe's stalled weather systems that can give a full summer of rain, or like this year -- an entire summer of uncomfortably warm sunshine. It doesn't have the never ending darkness of winter: the sun pokes through and you forget that its presence is short-lived and that soon you'll be turning on the kitchen light, even though it's still early.

Unfortunately, this perception that I have (of a mostly beautiful seasons) makes me spoiled. So that when the sky is beautifully blue and the sun is brilliant (like today), I don't rush out to take advantage of it. It's just one of those lovely days! There'll be more. I throw a glance at all that prettiness and return to my tasks, which, today, includes more editing.

(Short walk: to the barn and back)






Breakfast is late and in the front room. It's time to move things around in the morning!






And in the afternoon, I pick up Snowdrop.

(Getting ready to go home)






"Look, Gaga! Stop Sign is napping on the old truck!"






Indeed. Stop Sign now spends a considerable amount of time at the farmette. And today I saw him deliver a mouse to a more petite Stop Sign. Could it be that this cat is a mom?






Snowdrop is in a playful mood. Getting her to pay attention to this day's schedule is a challenge. Finally, we're almost ready to head out to dance class. Almost.






(We're on time! Amazing!)






Today's story is Swan Lake. I had gone to the trouble of getting a young person's version of the tale and we went through it earlier, if only because I had some concerns that she would not love the sorcerer's evil magic spells. I needn't have worried. Their story and dance in class had only a modest similarity to the Tchaikovsky classic. Nonetheless, as always, Snowdrop loved all the pretend stuff that is so part and parcel of this dance program.






At the farmette, I'm in for a quiet evening. Ed is still riding his bike every Wednesday evening. I cook up some eggs and brussel sprouts and think about how quickly a good day zips by.