Sometimes your right side just doesn't know what's out there on your left. You are so used to following established paths and protocols that you don't notice a whole new landscape out there, beckoning for your attention. I suppose this may well describe our morning.
It is a March kind of day. The air is almost balmy: temperatures hover just above freezing. Clouds roll in but offer nothing in the form of precipitation (thank goodness). And still, the snow is really melting fast. Cheepers are pleased. They broaden their path of navigation.
It's a slushy, wet world out there! We eat breakfast in the front room. Looking out, we see puddles and lots of very slushy snow.
Skiing will not work. It could be that we did our last (beautiful) run of the season yesterday.
Ed suggests we slosh on foot through a piece of land we recently examined on google maps. It borders Lake Waubesa and it connects the lakeside residential community with the county park where he and I typically ski. We had assumed it's private property (isn't most everything private property?), but closer inspection revealed it's a chunk of Department of Natural Resources land.
I have good winter boots. I'm agreeable.
As we plunge into the strip that is obviously frozen wetland, I consider turning back. It's rough going!
But then the terrain opens up.
(Lovely white oaks, scattered throughout...)
And some fifteen minutes into our slog, we come across trails. And signs, marking snowshoe paths.
We're now in a park!
We eventually reach the formal entrance to it: The Capitol Springs State Park! Here? Who knew?!
I imagine it's especially beautiful when the grasslands are in full bloom.
Well now, a whole "new" set of trails, less than two miles from where we live! A shocking and pleasant discovery!
We drive back to the farmette, passing empty cornfields now being picked over by scores of wild turkeys and a handful of deer.
Look, the turkeys scratch the soil! Just like the cheepers!
Yes, same family...
When I pick up Snowdrop, I remind her that we have a haircut appointment just in the neighborhood of her school. She hasn't had a trim since early spring (except for bangs, which I routinely chop down at home) and she hesitates for just a minute...
But, she is happy to scramble up and watch the hair fly every which way...
Close your eyes now, little girl!
She does as requested.
Done!
And now we're home and back in the world of play.
Snowdrop uses the farmhouse space well. She doesn't just stay in her play area. She'll take her games to the sun room. To the living room. To the kitchen.
She adds props...
She is spirited! In a short while, her hair no longer looks well tended. It looks crazy wild!
As usual, she is full of directives:
Grandma, don't poke Daffodil (that's her baby). You'll hurt her and she will break and she will be all over the floor, broken!
In a million pieces? Scattered everywhere?
Exactly!
I smile at her choice of words.
Ed comes in. She asks for a ride. Duck under the door! -- he warns her.
We finish at the table. With (play) food. Of course.
And I think -- she doesn't really need her high chair anymore...
Evening. Ed has a working dinner out. I eat leftovers and think ahead to the weekend. I'm heading out to Chicago tomorrow. We all are, for a family gathering to celebrate the soon to be born grandbabe number two.
It is a March kind of day. The air is almost balmy: temperatures hover just above freezing. Clouds roll in but offer nothing in the form of precipitation (thank goodness). And still, the snow is really melting fast. Cheepers are pleased. They broaden their path of navigation.
It's a slushy, wet world out there! We eat breakfast in the front room. Looking out, we see puddles and lots of very slushy snow.
Skiing will not work. It could be that we did our last (beautiful) run of the season yesterday.
Ed suggests we slosh on foot through a piece of land we recently examined on google maps. It borders Lake Waubesa and it connects the lakeside residential community with the county park where he and I typically ski. We had assumed it's private property (isn't most everything private property?), but closer inspection revealed it's a chunk of Department of Natural Resources land.
I have good winter boots. I'm agreeable.
As we plunge into the strip that is obviously frozen wetland, I consider turning back. It's rough going!
But then the terrain opens up.
(Lovely white oaks, scattered throughout...)
And some fifteen minutes into our slog, we come across trails. And signs, marking snowshoe paths.
We're now in a park!
We eventually reach the formal entrance to it: The Capitol Springs State Park! Here? Who knew?!
I imagine it's especially beautiful when the grasslands are in full bloom.
Well now, a whole "new" set of trails, less than two miles from where we live! A shocking and pleasant discovery!
We drive back to the farmette, passing empty cornfields now being picked over by scores of wild turkeys and a handful of deer.
Look, the turkeys scratch the soil! Just like the cheepers!
Yes, same family...
When I pick up Snowdrop, I remind her that we have a haircut appointment just in the neighborhood of her school. She hasn't had a trim since early spring (except for bangs, which I routinely chop down at home) and she hesitates for just a minute...
But, she is happy to scramble up and watch the hair fly every which way...
Close your eyes now, little girl!
She does as requested.
Done!
And now we're home and back in the world of play.
Snowdrop uses the farmhouse space well. She doesn't just stay in her play area. She'll take her games to the sun room. To the living room. To the kitchen.
She adds props...
She is spirited! In a short while, her hair no longer looks well tended. It looks crazy wild!
As usual, she is full of directives:
Grandma, don't poke Daffodil (that's her baby). You'll hurt her and she will break and she will be all over the floor, broken!
In a million pieces? Scattered everywhere?
Exactly!
I smile at her choice of words.
Ed comes in. She asks for a ride. Duck under the door! -- he warns her.
We finish at the table. With (play) food. Of course.
And I think -- she doesn't really need her high chair anymore...
Evening. Ed has a working dinner out. I eat leftovers and think ahead to the weekend. I'm heading out to Chicago tomorrow. We all are, for a family gathering to celebrate the soon to be born grandbabe number two.
