January days

In many ways, having a January birthday is a good thing: when winter seems long and holiday merriment has fizzled, you have this day that's all yours to look forward to! If you're Wisconsin's child, you probably have some story of horror to tell -- born on the slickest, coldest day ever! (That was my younger daughter's tale... until Snowdrop was born and then she had competition.) But, too, you are forever at the mercy of nature's grip. Today, for example, a snow storm continues to rage in Chicago where my daughter, the one with a birthday today, lives. You learn to shrug your shoulders and say -- see what I have to put up with? -- and then continue with your celebrations.

May your celebrations be joyful and grand, little girl of mine! And save some merriment for when I next see you in the windy city! (Soon!)

Here, at the farmette, the big snow all fell last night. It wasn't a monster snow, but enough for Ed to take out the power blower today. I shovel the little paths, he goes after the grand stuff, including the rather long driveway.

But before we start in on snow removal, I head out to the barn to check on the cheepers. They are, of course, all locked up still. And somewhat huddled. The imprint of losing one to a predator stays with the survivors for a while, we've learnt. Too, it's cold out there!

I fill their dishes, check on the water and then turn my attention to snow matters. (So pretty in the early morning light!)






I have an unusual day before me. First of all, Ed volunteers, on his own, to go to the clinic to check on his hearing (which has sort of disappeared in some significant fashion in the last few weeks). Now, you'd think this was a real about face for him: a visit to the clinic! But it isn't really. It's almost a preventive step to keep his hearing in tact. You go in, your ear gets examined, you leave with instructions. It tells you nothing abut the state of your health. (Which, again, is perfect, according to him.) I volunteer to drive him over and so after breakfast...






... we set out. It's a tricky juggling act, because I am also on my way to see Snowdrop (assuming, correctly, that Sparrow is napping). Their mom is out of town and I want to give the dad a break from watching the two kids round the clock for several days now.

(bath time, play time, and outdoor time -- we can fit it all!)
















As I tell her I have to go retrieve Ed, she asks if she can go to lunch with us. Where? The farmhouse! What? Pancakes! And why not....






Afterward, Ed rests, she and I continue to play.


 


It's good to spend this quiet time with her at the farmette. She is still not 100% out of the woods with a hovering bug and we can slow down and read (and read and read) when she shows signs of wearing out.

The sun is lovely... oh so good to have its splendid brightness in her play spaces!






In the late afternoon I drive Snowdrop home...


(hey! Sparrow is up! How are you, little guy? Happy? I'm not surprised!)


 



... and I think about how clever we, humans have been in creating warm spaces for ourselves in these coldest months. How resilient and forward looking. How nonchalant now in the face of raging storms and plummeting temperatures. I look around me and see nothing but pretty, nonthreatening winter landscapes. It really is a beautiful day, birthday, winter day, January 19th kind of day here in our wintry Upper Midwest!

(farmette at midday)