I would say that this day is as close to an average February day as they get. Frozen ground, a light cloud cover that eventually fades to give us that cornflower blue sky.
(Morning: still a tad cloudy, but with bright contours and a promise of better light)
You begin to imagine spring: what would it be like to have the crab apple in bloom, to see the willow fill out with its pale green leaves...
We aren't at the cusp of spring -- I'm not that easily deceived! -- but we are moving along at a good clip and that natural progression feels good. It's as it should be. A day of February calm.
(My morning animal feeding becomes more interesting as the kittens become increasingly used to the routines. They are beginning to understand who butters their bread.)
Breakfast. I call Ed down -- it's now or never! In a few minutes Sparrow will be here!
Ed -- are you done (with the photo) yet?
No... Let's try again.
Better.
Indeed, the little guy does come moments later. We've flipped the schedule somewhat and so this week, Tuesday is his farmhouse day. Is he happy about it?
He's Sparrow, isn't he?
Feeding: the smile lingers...
... at least until he finds himself confronted with carrots.
Sparrow is a quiet guy, but he has good control of his body. Still, wanting to go somewhere and getting there are, unfortunately, not the same thing!
In the afternoon, I pick up Snowdrop.
(Jacket on...)
(Jacket off...)
After our ritual reading time, we play.
She has an idea. She always has an idea: Gogs, we're taking a trip!
We'd just read a book where someone feels compelled to take a necessary journey, so I ask her -- Is it a necessary journey?
No, it's a fun and beautiful journey.
Okay then! Fasten your seat-belts! We will be flying over the ocean!
No, not over the ocean, over one hill and 16 pieces of grass.
And in a few minutes:
Holy smoke! We just landed in a beautiful place!
And in that beautiful place I lose her to a story which she spins now for herself. I retreat to sip a coffee with frothy milk while she tells her tale.
Later, I drive the little one home. And the icy mix comes down and we are in the middle of a winter storm once more. There will be another winter storm tomorrow. And the next day.
Perhaps there is no such thing as a typical February day. From calm to storm. From sunshine to ice. But just remember, after February comes March. And soon after, blossoms and willow leaves.
(Morning: still a tad cloudy, but with bright contours and a promise of better light)
You begin to imagine spring: what would it be like to have the crab apple in bloom, to see the willow fill out with its pale green leaves...
We aren't at the cusp of spring -- I'm not that easily deceived! -- but we are moving along at a good clip and that natural progression feels good. It's as it should be. A day of February calm.
(My morning animal feeding becomes more interesting as the kittens become increasingly used to the routines. They are beginning to understand who butters their bread.)
Breakfast. I call Ed down -- it's now or never! In a few minutes Sparrow will be here!
Ed -- are you done (with the photo) yet?
No... Let's try again.
Better.
Indeed, the little guy does come moments later. We've flipped the schedule somewhat and so this week, Tuesday is his farmhouse day. Is he happy about it?
He's Sparrow, isn't he?
Feeding: the smile lingers...
... at least until he finds himself confronted with carrots.
Sparrow is a quiet guy, but he has good control of his body. Still, wanting to go somewhere and getting there are, unfortunately, not the same thing!
In the afternoon, I pick up Snowdrop.
(Jacket on...)
(Jacket off...)
After our ritual reading time, we play.
She has an idea. She always has an idea: Gogs, we're taking a trip!
We'd just read a book where someone feels compelled to take a necessary journey, so I ask her -- Is it a necessary journey?
No, it's a fun and beautiful journey.
Okay then! Fasten your seat-belts! We will be flying over the ocean!
No, not over the ocean, over one hill and 16 pieces of grass.
And in a few minutes:
Holy smoke! We just landed in a beautiful place!
And in that beautiful place I lose her to a story which she spins now for herself. I retreat to sip a coffee with frothy milk while she tells her tale.
Later, I drive the little one home. And the icy mix comes down and we are in the middle of a winter storm once more. There will be another winter storm tomorrow. And the next day.
Perhaps there is no such thing as a typical February day. From calm to storm. From sunshine to ice. But just remember, after February comes March. And soon after, blossoms and willow leaves.
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