in a fog

It's a wet and foggy day. You don't want to be outside: not at all! Even the walk to the barn in the morning seems sloppy and uninspiring.







The garage cats are a little reclusive today and I have to think it has something to do with yesterday's visit by the strange bird (likely that darn Cooper Hawk). Normally, Stop Sign comes out to greet me, or at least greet the dish of food I bring with me. Today, she hovers in the back, near her little ones.






Or am I imagining this more cautious behavior? Maybe she doesn't like the wet slush and the damp air any more than we do. I am terribly inept at reading cat expressions and behaviors.

Breakfast. Ed is a tad exasperated with my morning photo. Can you tell?






I had wanted to zip through farmhouse cleaning and go out for one last run on skis before the snow gets too soupy and thin, but as we drive out to the park, we decide against it. It's just so damp and unpleasant and there are plenty of bare spots along the trail.





Our next stop is very indoorsy: we are to work with my mom and her new cell phone. This is a bit of a leap for her. While she has been very comfortable with computers, smart phones or even mobile flip phones have not been part of her daily life. The learning curve is significant. You don't realize it until you break down the steps of usage. Strange screens appear on a regular basis. You have to figure out how to get yourself out of unintended pickles and perturbations. The finger motions - taps, swipes -- they're all new stuff.

She makes great progress. Indeed, unless something very strange happens (not impossible with smart phones), she should be set!

In our remaining time there, we put up countless framed pictures on her apartment walls. She loves looking at the kids and great grandkids and she has plenty of them now decorating her living space.






On our way home, Ed and I again consider our outdoor options. None of them seem grand. Not even slightly grand. It's so foggy! Slushy! Wet! Even the ice fishermen are on the retreat (from the lesser lake)!






No matter. We have stuff to do at the farmhouse. One dead car to recharge. One robot vacuum cleaner to set loose upstairs. One dinner to cook for the young family!






Winter Sunday dinners... Warm, comforting. People say there's a game on right now. I understand the lure of an exciting match in the thick of the winter season. But for me, that meal around a kitchen table is about as exciting as anything I'd want to watch on the big screen. One child tells a story, the other shows off his growing appreciation for mush -- what could be more thrilling than that?






"If my big sister gets two macarons for dessert, might I at least have one? No? Bummer..."






Maybe next year, Sparrow. Maybe next year.