Morning cold. Frost on the window, furnace working for longer spells now, as if it were February instead of mid November.
But once again the sun is out and though the ground is getting that crunchy firm feel to it, I don't really mind. The farmette is bright and beautiful. Even now, in a month that typically doesn't really present itself well.
Sparrow comes for a morning of play here. He is bundled of course and it strikes me that it would be fitting to sit him down next to a polar bear.
Okay okay okay, not for long. It's pleasantly warm in the farmhouse.
Oops! Without that jacket to stiffen him up, he loses his balance a bit...
Now here are strong arms to keep him upright! Breakfast. In the front room.
It stays cold in the morning and it stays cold in the afternoon when I pick up Snowdrop. The little girl initially doesn't notice, doesn't care. She made a kite. She wants to see it soar in some form of a mini flight.
At the farmette, she runs like the dickens down the path to the barn. The cheepers are convinced she's there to get them food. They fly to be first in line.
This is when she gets cold. Me, I had beat her to it a long time ago.
We retreat to the farmhouse.
("Playing" Jingle Bells...)
It's storybook ballet day and hard as it is to get her to stop her game, dance class pulls her like a magnet. We arrive only 45 seconds late!
Today's story is about Thanksgiving. The kids are good Pilgrims who discover a new settlement in America, sow seeds on it and have themselves a first feast. True, much is left out in the retelling of it and what she hears, does leave Snowdrop puzzled (I see her hand shoot up to inquire about how it is that they discovered a new colony in America), but in the end she is one happy little Pilgrim, with a tutu underneath her starched white apron.
Evening. I cook up a pot of soup that Ed and I will dip into for the next few days. The cheepers sleep, the lights on the porch look twice as bright on this crisp cold night. Winter came early this year. That's okay: so long as it leaves early too and has plenty of sunshine sprinkled throughout.
But once again the sun is out and though the ground is getting that crunchy firm feel to it, I don't really mind. The farmette is bright and beautiful. Even now, in a month that typically doesn't really present itself well.
Sparrow comes for a morning of play here. He is bundled of course and it strikes me that it would be fitting to sit him down next to a polar bear.
Okay okay okay, not for long. It's pleasantly warm in the farmhouse.
Oops! Without that jacket to stiffen him up, he loses his balance a bit...
Now here are strong arms to keep him upright! Breakfast. In the front room.
It stays cold in the morning and it stays cold in the afternoon when I pick up Snowdrop. The little girl initially doesn't notice, doesn't care. She made a kite. She wants to see it soar in some form of a mini flight.
At the farmette, she runs like the dickens down the path to the barn. The cheepers are convinced she's there to get them food. They fly to be first in line.
This is when she gets cold. Me, I had beat her to it a long time ago.
We retreat to the farmhouse.
("Playing" Jingle Bells...)
It's storybook ballet day and hard as it is to get her to stop her game, dance class pulls her like a magnet. We arrive only 45 seconds late!
Today's story is about Thanksgiving. The kids are good Pilgrims who discover a new settlement in America, sow seeds on it and have themselves a first feast. True, much is left out in the retelling of it and what she hears, does leave Snowdrop puzzled (I see her hand shoot up to inquire about how it is that they discovered a new colony in America), but in the end she is one happy little Pilgrim, with a tutu underneath her starched white apron.
Evening. I cook up a pot of soup that Ed and I will dip into for the next few days. The cheepers sleep, the lights on the porch look twice as bright on this crisp cold night. Winter came early this year. That's okay: so long as it leaves early too and has plenty of sunshine sprinkled throughout.
