Late Monday night, we pop the usual bowl of popcorn. Not for us the silly prebagged stuff: we like the baby white kernels (Amish, bought in 10 lb bags) popped up without the annoying hull bits that get in your teeth. Fluffy and delightful!
It's better than ever! -- we proclaim, almost in one voice.
That dumb little $50 microwave appears to do a nicer job than our bigger built in machine.
But we have to fix the big one -- it would be weird without it there. Like a gaping hole. Besides, it has a vent and a light for late night cooking! And the little machine takes up precious counter space.
We should put the little one into the broken big one!
Laughter at midnight is a good thing.
Early in the morning, I get a call that my mom needs help as she is once again under medical care. I leave a sleeping Ed and take her to her home, stopping at various places to do some trivial errands. Things are okay, just in need of a little attention. As I drive back to the farmette and listen to the lovely music on the radio, I think Ed type thoughts -- one button and the heat in the car comes on. Another -- you have music. Amazing!
I call Ed as I pull into the driveway. It's nearly 11, but the guy is still asleep. I tend to the animals, filling Stop Sign's dish with lots of cat food. Ed has constructed a little cave of a place for her for the winter. We're hoping she'll take to it, though we don't really know where she hangs out at night. And here's a worry: she is petite as always, but she is getting a very fat belly. Are we going to get kittens along with the first snow? We had toyed with trapping her to get her neutered, but she is a distrustful cat and not at all acclimated to life among humans. We decided not to spook her just yet and now here she is, walking around with a fat belly.
It's noon. Ed's up. We have breakfast. It's a cool but sunny day. We'll take it!
Our afternoon is a little different: in watching the weather patterns, I thought today might be a good day to take a hike with Snowdrop. She and I have gone to the Arboretum in previous Falls, but we have never gone beyond the vast meadows here, leading her to one day complain that we've never hiked in a forest.
Today, I corral Ed to the effort: we pick up the excited little girl at school and head for the woods.
The "meadow" that we cross has a grand collection of maples...
This is all fine and well, but the girl is most interested in reaching the forest.
And we do and it's quite lovely! So much to study!
So much to admire!
When she is ready to turn back, I suggest a pause for a snack. She is thrilled that I have packed a blanket and a few cookies, nuts and pieces of fruit.
(A playful pause...)
Our Arboretum is a beautiful and vast space. We limit our explorations today so that Snowdrop isn't too overwhelmed by it.
She needs her book time and her play time as much as she needs to set foot in that forest. Today, we have time for both.
It's better than ever! -- we proclaim, almost in one voice.
That dumb little $50 microwave appears to do a nicer job than our bigger built in machine.
But we have to fix the big one -- it would be weird without it there. Like a gaping hole. Besides, it has a vent and a light for late night cooking! And the little machine takes up precious counter space.
We should put the little one into the broken big one!
Laughter at midnight is a good thing.
Early in the morning, I get a call that my mom needs help as she is once again under medical care. I leave a sleeping Ed and take her to her home, stopping at various places to do some trivial errands. Things are okay, just in need of a little attention. As I drive back to the farmette and listen to the lovely music on the radio, I think Ed type thoughts -- one button and the heat in the car comes on. Another -- you have music. Amazing!
I call Ed as I pull into the driveway. It's nearly 11, but the guy is still asleep. I tend to the animals, filling Stop Sign's dish with lots of cat food. Ed has constructed a little cave of a place for her for the winter. We're hoping she'll take to it, though we don't really know where she hangs out at night. And here's a worry: she is petite as always, but she is getting a very fat belly. Are we going to get kittens along with the first snow? We had toyed with trapping her to get her neutered, but she is a distrustful cat and not at all acclimated to life among humans. We decided not to spook her just yet and now here she is, walking around with a fat belly.
It's noon. Ed's up. We have breakfast. It's a cool but sunny day. We'll take it!
Our afternoon is a little different: in watching the weather patterns, I thought today might be a good day to take a hike with Snowdrop. She and I have gone to the Arboretum in previous Falls, but we have never gone beyond the vast meadows here, leading her to one day complain that we've never hiked in a forest.
Today, I corral Ed to the effort: we pick up the excited little girl at school and head for the woods.
The "meadow" that we cross has a grand collection of maples...
This is all fine and well, but the girl is most interested in reaching the forest.
And we do and it's quite lovely! So much to study!
So much to admire!
When she is ready to turn back, I suggest a pause for a snack. She is thrilled that I have packed a blanket and a few cookies, nuts and pieces of fruit.
(A playful pause...)
Our Arboretum is a beautiful and vast space. We limit our explorations today so that Snowdrop isn't too overwhelmed by it.
She needs her book time and her play time as much as she needs to set foot in that forest. Today, we have time for both.
