On the one hand, it feels like any other Monday: morning work at home, afternoon spent with Snowdrop.
But in so many ways, it's different.
For one thing, I was tossing a little at night and to move myself toward a more restful sleep, I picked up my phone to read a little of this and that. I usually reach for a book, but I didn't want to get sucked into the story, so I chose the phone.
What's this? A message from my credit card company. Suspicious activity. Sure enough, my card was hacked. Well, by chance, I caught it within minutes of the event. I put a block on the card and then of course reviewed into the early morning all the ways I have to reconfigure life onto a new card number. So much for restful night (though on the upside, I surely avoided a lot of accounting headaches by catching things early).
We eat a late breakfast...
And only then do I allow myself a look outside. I knew the snow was melting. I knew today there would be rain. I knew there would be bare patches. Still, it is a bit of a shock to go from a snowy landscape to the wet patchy puddly stuff we have now. The cheepers are rejoicing. There is earth underneath their scratchy claws again.
By the time I pick up Snowdrop, the rain is coming down consistently. Without pause. I learn that the girl has missed an outdoor play period for some inconsequential reason. Not surprisingly, she wants to make up for it now. When I tell her we may do some puddle hopping, she is ready to head out in a snap.
At the farmette she plunges in.
With a beautiful smile and a spirited splash...
Within minutes we are making boats out of seed pods and fish out of wood chips...
... and I swear we would still be there now, except quite suddenly (and I'm not clear if it was intentional), she sits down in the puddle and of course, that is the end of outdoor time.
Inside, I put on her pajamas and I spread out her soaked clothes on the heating vents.
And the rain continues.
In digging around her stuff, Snowdrop finds her sunglasses and perhaps hoping for a bit of bright sunshine, she puts them on.
Is the sun out, grandma?
No... all hidden behind clouds of rain.
Maybe a little of it is out?
Well, maybe in some corner of the sky (far far from where we are).
Playful girl...
Maybe a bit too playful, considering how little rest she has had in recent times.
Grandma, am I wearing you out? Am I? (She got this from an Olivia book.)
Hmm...
... no, sweet one. Never.
Well, at least, not tonight.
But in so many ways, it's different.
For one thing, I was tossing a little at night and to move myself toward a more restful sleep, I picked up my phone to read a little of this and that. I usually reach for a book, but I didn't want to get sucked into the story, so I chose the phone.
What's this? A message from my credit card company. Suspicious activity. Sure enough, my card was hacked. Well, by chance, I caught it within minutes of the event. I put a block on the card and then of course reviewed into the early morning all the ways I have to reconfigure life onto a new card number. So much for restful night (though on the upside, I surely avoided a lot of accounting headaches by catching things early).
We eat a late breakfast...
And only then do I allow myself a look outside. I knew the snow was melting. I knew today there would be rain. I knew there would be bare patches. Still, it is a bit of a shock to go from a snowy landscape to the wet patchy puddly stuff we have now. The cheepers are rejoicing. There is earth underneath their scratchy claws again.
By the time I pick up Snowdrop, the rain is coming down consistently. Without pause. I learn that the girl has missed an outdoor play period for some inconsequential reason. Not surprisingly, she wants to make up for it now. When I tell her we may do some puddle hopping, she is ready to head out in a snap.
At the farmette she plunges in.
With a beautiful smile and a spirited splash...
Within minutes we are making boats out of seed pods and fish out of wood chips...
... and I swear we would still be there now, except quite suddenly (and I'm not clear if it was intentional), she sits down in the puddle and of course, that is the end of outdoor time.
Inside, I put on her pajamas and I spread out her soaked clothes on the heating vents.
And the rain continues.
In digging around her stuff, Snowdrop finds her sunglasses and perhaps hoping for a bit of bright sunshine, she puts them on.
Is the sun out, grandma?
No... all hidden behind clouds of rain.
Maybe a little of it is out?
Well, maybe in some corner of the sky (far far from where we are).
Playful girl...
Maybe a bit too playful, considering how little rest she has had in recent times.
Grandma, am I wearing you out? Am I? (She got this from an Olivia book.)
Hmm...
... no, sweet one. Never.
Well, at least, not tonight.
